Elle frowned up at the minotaur. He glared back, snorting. “You’re not going to tell me anything I want to know, are you?”
“Would you expect otherwise?” she replied.
He grinned, a big toothy grin with wide slab-shaped teeth, like a picket fence in his mouth. “No, I wouldn’t, not from someone with your reputation. But not my problem either way. I just carry out the laws, I don’t make ’em. If you’re real lucky, Lady Argiala might take pity on you. In the meanwhile, I got a jail cell with your name on it.”
The chief snapped his fingers, and the doors behind her swung open. Two burly centaurs clomped in, different than the ones who’d brought her in, and as they surrounded her chair, she stood up.
“They’ll be looking for me,” she said.
“You’re likely to cause some trouble,” said the chief, “but until then, you’re still less trouble in a cell. Take her to number 37,” he said, nodding to the centaurs on either side of her. “But be nice with her. She’s a celebrity.”
Elle glared up at each of them, growling, and then smartly turned around. “Lead the way, boys,” she said. She peered back over her shoulder. “And don’t think I won’t get an interview out of you yet,” she said.
The minotaur laughed, a loud guffaw that shook the room. “I don’t doubt you will.”
* * *
The guards led her through the door she’d suspected was the entrance to the jail cells, and into a hallway that forked once. They turned, leading her down the second row, and started down the cells. Peering into each, most were centaurs, although one had a satyr, and another held a young human man. Most looked up at her with surprise, although a few didn’t look up at all.
They stopped at an empty cell on the left side. A young centauress, likely still a teenager, lay on the floor in the next cell looking up at her sadly. She wore no clothes, but her long, curly blond hair covered her chest. The guards ushered Elle into the cell, and then took her handcuffs off. She rubbed her wrists as they slammed the iron-barred door shut behind her.
The cell was — well, it was a cell. A toilet in the corner, a sink for washing her hands, and a human-sized cot for a bed, bolted to the cement floor, quite different from the mattress the girl in the next cell over was laying on.
Elle sat down on the cot, looking at the girl. She looked back at Elle.
“What are you in for?” said Elle.
“Ohhh…” said the girl, frowning and biting her lip.
Elle winced, not quite sure how to respond to that. “Have they treated you well in here?”
“Oh, yes, always, of course,” said the girl, her eyes growing big and round.
“What’s your name?” said Elle.
“I’m — ” She looked down. “I’m — nobody,” she said.
Elle shook her head. “You’re somebody,” she said. “What’s your name?”
“I guess — I’m still Jenna,” she said, parsing each syllable as if it was new and a little distasteful.
“Why are you in jail, Jenna?” said Elle.
The girl didn’t look up.
Elle inched off the bed, and slid on the floor on her knees over to the bars between their cells. “Jenna,” she said softly, “why are you in here?”
The girl breathed hard for a moment, then spoke softly. “I made a mistake,” she said.
“What was your mistake?”
“I just — I had to know, you know?” she said.
“Know what?” said Elle.
“I — when I came here, I knew I wasn’t supposed to talk without permission,” said Jenna. “It was part of the deal. They gave me everything. And all I had to do was follow instructions.”
“Jenna, who’s they?” said Elle. “What did you do? What was the deal?”
“The Master and Mistress,” she said in a hushed voice. “They — they helped me. Us. All of us. So many of us.”
“Jenna, what did they do?” said Elle gently.
“I — I spent so much time on the street,” she said. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I couldn’t kick it. I should never have let them down.”
“What’s it, Jenna? Tell me your story. What happened to you?”
The girl paused for a moment, thinking about it, and then began to speak slowly. “I never had a lot of money,” she said. “I grew up in a bad part of Brooklyn. No dad. Mom worked all the time. And I was always in with bad people. I don’t think I was ever not part of the drugs there. The first time I smoked a joint I didn’t even have tits yet. I made it to my high school graduation, but I don’t know how. I was high as a kite on heroin the day I got my diploma. I lost it a few hours after I got it, never saw it again.”
She took a deep breath. “They found me. Master and Mistress did, laying on my ass with a bag of heroin in an alley, drunk and high at the same time. Told me they could cure me of every addiction. Change my brain chemistry, they said, by turning me into this. And they did.”
Elle nodded.
“I came here sober for the first time in my life. They gave me a life. I was a centaur, drug-free, a place of my own, and every one of the boys was looking at me. And all I had to do in exchange was listen. A few rules. Easy.” She shook her head, looking down. “Easy peasy.”
Elle put her hands on the bars. “Jenna, what did you do? Why are you in here?”
The words were barely a whisper. “Mom, she — she was sick. I knew it, when I came here. Sick bad. Cancer. The day I left for the Island, she went into the hospital. I wondered and wondered, for weeks, and finally I couldn’t wonder anymore. All I did was call home, just a few minutes, make sure she was okay.” She breathed, and looked up, her eyes filling with tears. “She’s okay. Surgery’s done. She’s in remission.”
“Jenna, why are you in here?” said Elle again, softly.
“I broke the rules. They gave me this and it wasn’t enough,” said the girl. “It should’ve been. But I only have one more year, and when the Mistress asks if I learned my lesson, I’m gonna tell her yes’m, I learned it good.” She patted her barrel. “This is worth any price. This body keeps me off the drugs. Gives me a chance at being something more than just a druggy. They gave me this, and I owe them everything for it.”
Elle’s fists were in tight, small balls. “They don’t have the right to take away your family,” she said.
“Sssh!” said Jenna, hissing loudly. “They’ll hear you! You should be listening too. The Master and Mistress only mean what’s best for us.” She turned away, scowling, and stared up at the ceiling. “Thank you, my Lord and Lady, for my chance, and I am so sorry for my transgressions against you! Thank you, my Lord and Lady, for my chance — ” And she continued to chant, ignoring Elle.
Elle took a deep breath, shaking her head, and turned away from the girl’s cell. She felt sorry for the poor brainwashed girl, but at least for the moment, there was nothing she could do.