Aarti glanced around cautiously. Her knapsack felt particularly heavy, especially since she'd secured most of a bull in it. Even enchanted knapsacks had limits as she'd discovered.
The coast was clear. Euphemis and her little merry band had taken to shadowing her every movement lately. It probably had to do with the epic punishment Grandmother Hippolyta had rained down on their heads a few weeks earlier when Aarti had disappeared for a few hours. No one could find her, and Euphemis and her lackeys had supposedly been giving her sword lessons.
Aarti savored the thought for a long moment. Grandmother Hippolyta had enthused over her returning safe and sound, glossing over the exploring excuse that Aarti had offered with much pooh-poohing. The expressions on Euphemis and friends' face had been delightful. Aarti hadn't been punished at all while they'd had discipline detail for two weeks.
Those weeks had been heaven. Aarti had patronized the library and even ventured to the blacksmiths and tanners. She had never quite taken a step back and examined just how the island functioned as a whole. The whole process, refined over millennia, worked so seamlessly as to be nearly invisible.
Aarti also speculated privately that that was why some of the younger Amazons ventured out into the wider world periodically. While most returned, some didn't. She knew for a fact that some of those non-returners weren't off living new lives. The thought rattled her, and the fact that it did sparked a small flame of anger in her heart.
Aarti slipped out of corridor leading to the general living quarters. One of the few Amazons she considered a friend had helped her sew a giant pillow. Aarti had no idea what Dorcas thought she was going to do with a pillow that size, but she was wise enough not to ask.
Aarti ducked behind a column as two older Amazons walked by, discussing the current guard rotation. She frowned as she caught Euphemis' name. Surely the idiot wasn't slacking on her duties just to harass her? If anything, shouldn't she be trying to cozy up to her mother instead?
Aarti let out a soft, muffled sigh, freezing as the Amazons paused at the end of the corridor. After a few taut seconds, the Amazons continued on their way.
Aarti stood up and checked her surroundings again. Then she darted off.
*****
"I've brought you a new pillow," she announced, wrestling it out of her knapsack.
It was a thing of wonder to see the pillow emerge from the knapsack. She'd had her doubts when she'd talked to the leatherworkers, and they'd offered it up. The chief leatherworker had tossed it her way after she'd complained that her old knapsack couldn't hold much.
This one was older than her mother. The old chief had said that it was the definitive masterwork all the leatherworkers had to produce in order to reach master status. The fact that it was so old also bothered Aarti in a way she couldn't articulate. It still looked new and unused despite the abuse she'd put it through the last few days.
The pillow was the same satin as the old one. The Amazons had little use for the fabric but it kept getting shipped in in odd lots—a yard here, five yards there, an entire bolt randomly there. Aarti figured that whoever was the buyer at the time meant for the fabric to be used to a certain purpose but had never communicated that to the supercargoes who managed the wharves and airstrip. Instead, the fabric was tossed into the depths of the supplies warehouses where she'd discovered it.
Aarti was privately tickled that the pillow was done in swathes of green, purple and gold with random bits of red and blue scattered about. She'd guesstimated what the size of the original was and the fabric had been carefully pieced together to reach that size. Since it hadn't been properly stored, some of it had rotted and coming up with enough had been a headache, especially when one of the seamstresses had come up with several other ideas for the unused fabric.
"Now, isn't that nice?" The sleeping head cracked open its eyelids and turned in her direction. "Why, pray tell, are you bringing me a pillow?"
"Because that one needs washing," Aarti said, striding forward. The other two heads watched her curiously. She snatched the sodden pillow and replaced it with the new one. "It's not the prettiest, but it'll do until this thing is fixed."
Aarti walked away, dragging the pillow. She wasn't able to keep the disgust off her face at the wet sound it made. She steeled herself to not look back. There was more than likely a wet trail following her.
She propped the pillow against the cavern wall. Aarti couldn't risk leaving any signs that she'd been in the cavern. She had no clue who knew about the poor dog.
"So, it's just a pillow then?" The alert head snorted.
"No," Aarti replied. She picked up her knapsack and walked back to the dog. Stopping in front of the empty bowls, she reached in. "I don't know who is so evil to not feed their puppy, but you're mine now."
"Am I?" The hungry head asked, lip curling back.
"Yes," Aarti said with a nod. She pulled out a canteen and emptied it into the water dish. She frowned when it barely filled the bottom. "Well, I have more than one canteen."
The hungry head exchanged a baffled look with the alert one. Then they watched as Aarti pulled out cut after cut of beef and stuffed it into the food bowl. Much like the water, the food seemingly disappeared into the depths of the bowl. By the time Aarti had finished, the bowl was half full. She huffed and pulled out three more canteens.
"There! Just barely adequate," she announced a few minutes later.
"Food!" The hungry head barked and buried itself into the bowl.
The alert head rolled its eyes. It glanced at its sleeping compatriot and the bingeing one.
"Was there a reason for all this?" It finally asked.
"Of course, there's a reason," Aarti said. "It's called feeding one's dog. Obviously, whoever chained you up here is an evil person and I plan to beat some sense into them when I find them."
At her pronouncement, all three heads stared at her for a long moment. Then the middle one chuffed out a laugh and the other two went back to their previous activities.
"Do I get a name then? Like 'Fluffy' or 'Spot?'" The alert head yawned.
"You have a name. It's on the collar," Aarti said absently as she stashed her empty canteens. She made a mental note to bring more water the next time.
"Just checking," the alert head replied. "Change is always interesting."
Aarti smiled.
"I have a friend who says the same thing. Well, had. He died. A long time ago," she added. She turned her attention to the pillow.
She ignored the dog who had paused its various activities again to look at her. She wondered if she could find a saw of some sort to get the chains off.