A dark thought crossed my mind: would that boy I’d met feel the same way? The stark difference in our upbringings made it clear he was the son of a rich family. We’d teamed up by pure chance, but I wondered if he’d just shrug and carry on with his own agenda if the rest of us got caught.
To be fair, we’re perfect strangers, I thought in an attempt to lift my increasingly gloomy spirits. I’d made it this far all on my own. It wasn’t like me to rely on others, I told myself.
Staying alert so as not to miss an opening, I nervously opened my mouth to speak. It wasn’t a good idea to act too confident in this scenario—especially not when dealing with someone with so much unwarranted ego. “What’s the point of kidnapping kids like us, Master? Do you plan to make us your followers, like all those children you have waiting on you?”
I asked them if they were planning to build a kingdom of children or what, my bad habit of teasing rearing its ugly head.
Perhaps confident they had the upper hand, the Master behind the curtain gave an amused laugh. “That’s not a bad idea. You’ve got good looks, Alan, and a voice and musical ability to match. It would be a waste to sell you off to another kingdom. Maybe I should grant your wish and turn you into my new favorite.”
That was when it all clicked into place. They were a human trafficker who sold orphans no one would miss to other countries—a petty crook.
After humming in thought, I answered in my usual fashion. “Actually, I’m good. My motto is that I’ll do whatever it takes to survive, but I have a few stipulations. One, I won’t kill. Two, I won’t abandon my friends. Three, selling my body is the absolute last resort. And I’m definitely not interested in giving myself to a man.”
Both the figure behind the veil and Marcus and Maurie stirred with surprise. The Master did indeed have a throaty voice, but it didn’t sound rough and deep like a man’s. Rather, it had a nasal quality to it.
I kept pushing. “Besides, Mr. Master. You’re not the real Master who runs Luwak Street, are you? This mansion is owned by the Maritime Merchants’ Guild. Merchants and nobles conduct various transactions on the premises during their evening parties. It’d be no surprise if the Master of Luwak Street was among them, but they never make public appearances. They’d certainly never reveal themselves to lowly children like us. Even someone who thinks like a kid can tell. You’re just some flunky.”
The rustling of clothes told me that the Master had sat up. I could sense a rage building. Nevertheless, I persisted—in the hopes of creating an opening. “Well, no surprise there. You’re pretty much engaging in petty villainy. I can’t imagine the real Master of Luwak Street would bother selling kids like us for a bit of small change.”
“Alan.” The voice behind the veil dropped an octave. “Very well. Why don’t I keep you by my side and discipline the insolence out of you? I’ll make it so you can never sass me again...and so you’ll call me ‘Master’ in a sweet voice and wag your little tail like the rest of these children.”
Before I could shoot back a resounding “No, thanks,” the men who had apprehended Marcus and Maurie started in my direction. Just as I saw my chance to make a break for it, however, the faint sound of a knock echoed through the room. It was so out of place that everyone turned their heads at once. The Master behind the curtain seemed both disgruntled and dubious at once, and a quiet voice called out to him from behind the door. It said that he had a visitor.
“A visitor?” He asked who it was, and the servant outside apologized before opening the door.
Our room was surrounded by a gang of thugs; I’d seen them when I was first shown inside. Outside the door, a new figure strode past the otherwise familiar sight.
The moment he arrived on the scene, everyone was spellbound—myself included, of course. He had an unparalleled sense of presence that was unaffected by the eerie lighting of the room. His hair was hidden under a dark cloth, so I couldn’t tell what color it was. Nevertheless, just one look from his vibrant, clear blue eyes was all it took to bring the whole room under his command.
Suddenly, he was the one in control—of our lives, of the Master behind the curtain, of everything. It all hinged on his words or a single flick of his finger.
I could have sworn I heard a small voice of awe within me. The man who had just entered the room had handsome features the likes of which were seldom seen. He was still in the process of growing, though, so that could always change. He was an adolescent boy, maybe two or three years older than us. Still, he had an aura unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Overwhelmed and mesmerized, I suddenly found myself wondering if, just maybe...
Then the original master of the room raised his voice, sounding irritated and somewhat panicked. “You’re the visitor? I don’t recall asking for you or inviting you.”
The boy simply observed the scene without saying a word. The servant who had led him here watched him in silence, hanging back at his side.
Enraged to see this stranger acting more the part of a “master” than himself, the man behind the curtain began to shout in a masculine voice. He ordered his thugs to apprehend the intruder, whoever he was, because he had no use for a boy that old. That was when it hit me; I was probably on the border myself. The Master behind the curtain had a predilection for kids around ten who had yet to hit puberty. That was why he only targeted young children.
Five different men in the room reached for the boy all at once. The next thing they knew, they were knocked flat on their backs as if they’d been blown backwards.
Everyone else blinked, unsure of what had happened, but I’d caught a glimpse of it. A red shadow had darted out from between Marcus and Maurie, circled in front of the boy, and sent the men flying in an instant.