The Scorpions don’t seem too fussed at my beastly ways, even if their impressions of me did matter. Which they don’t. Riall stares at my mouth like he’s wishing I’d tear into him the same way I attack a meal. Tarek puts more on my plate as soon as there’s room for it, and Curio adjusts himself in his seat…a lot. Especially when I get particularly vocal with my appreciation. They’re too easy to mess with. It almost takes the fun out of it. Almost. They think they’re subtle with their charms and lures, but I’ve set a few snares myself, and they’re too wrapped up in what’s happening between their legs to pay attention to what they’re walking into.
Typical.
I expect Curio to lead me back into the castle for whatever it is we’ll be doing together, but when he moves toward the kitchen door and then outside, I follow curiously. A cool breeze tickles my cheeks as we leave the confines of the castle. The sky is still gray, but the clouds are wispy and frail now instead of the threatening stacks of thunderheads that filled the sky before.
The world around us is wet. The storm stopped only a few hours ago. I can still taste it in the air. The scent of rain-kissed moss teases my nose, as do the deeper notes of wet stone and fertile soil. I recognize better the subtle hint of the tall needle-leaf trees on the breeze after spending so much time with them earlier today. The sun is still hiding, but the overall light of the day is dimmer, as though the bright orb is already in a downward arc, eager to meet the horizon so they can lie together for a while.
Curio says nothing as he leads me into the dense surrounding forest. I don’t question where we’re going, but I see the thin, worn path at our feet, indicating that wherever the destination is, it’s visited often. I study him as we go, prodding my instincts for a read on him. He’s quieter than I thought he’d be, based on how he interacted with me at the Bidding. It makes me wonder if I did something to make him act like this or if this is how he is when he’s home and comfortable. Just as soon as that curious thought enters my mind, I drop-kick it out.
I. Do. Not. Care.
Maybe if I repeat it enough, my wayward thoughts will finally catch on.
Up ahead, a building comes into view. It’s a fair size and made of the same gray rock as the castle. It’s one story, but the middle of the roof towers tall enough to be another story before pitching down to connect with the building on both sides. There are two large chimneys, one on each end of the peaked roof, and a faint stream of smoke slithers out of them before disappearing in the somber sky. Large barn-like doors make up the side of the building facing us, and I surmise that they probably keep animals inside. There’s definitely a stale unwashed fur smell to the place. However, it’s mixed with a distinct metallic scent that I can’t place. It’s not overpowering or horrible, just unusual.
Curio slides one of the huge doors open and gestures for me to enter the structure before him. When no animal pens appear or any noises come from inside, I suddenly find myself hesitant to step any closer. The interior is dark and dreary, and I can’t make out what this place is even in the light of one massive open door.
“If we wanted to hurt you, don’t you think we would have done it already?” Curio asks, and I twitch when the sonorous sound of his voice shatters the silence. His tone gives me the impression that he’s faintly entertained by my initial reluctance.
“You could have been luring me into a false sense of safety,” I counter, glaring into the murk to try and make out what’s on the other side of it. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” I add, absently rubbing where there should be a scar on my abdomen from the last time that very thing happened.
“Fair point,” Curio concedes, and he gives up on his supposed gallantry and steps into the building first.
I don’t immediately follow. The shriek of metal sliding angrily against stiff metal makes me jump again, and I swear at myself to get it together. In front of me, Curio muscles the other gigantic wood door open.
“I’ve been meaning to oil that,” he tells me, stepping back to reveal what’s behind him.
Light finally spills in, unveiling the building’s secrets, but I still have no idea what I’m looking at.
“What is this?” I ask as I take it all in, my curiosity coaxing me to step closer.
“My workshop,” he supplies, turning to take in the interior himself as though he’s also trying to see it for the first time. “I’m an armorer,” he explains, nodding to the metal table with nicks and hammer marks all over it.
Blackened tools hang on one wall, and two massive hearths with glowing fires simmering inside of them are situated on opposite ends of the building. Hulking animal hides hang from the ceiling, some of them in their natural state while others have been treated and now dawn the rich black color of shadows. I suppose that explains the animal smell. I stare in awe as I make sense of what I’m seeing, and then I slide my wide eyes to Curio’s hickory gaze.
“You make the armor for the Scorpions?” I ask, not even trying to hide my admiration.
I recall the three of them removing their onyx protective plates and defenses that first night in the tent. I had marveled at the luxurious craftsmanship then. That, and the fact that they didn’t require help to take it off. It fit each of them as though it had been poured over their bodies instead of painstakingly fit to every inch of them. I stare at Curio and try to picture him crafting something so stunning in this very workshop.
“And the weapons,” he adds, and I quickly go from impressed to downright reverent.
I picture that gorgeous little knife I nicked from Scorpius—I mean Tarek—when he asked for me to bathe him. Instantly, I want to ask for one, but I shut it down. What right do I have to make that kind of request? They’re already feeding me and giving me a room in their home. I need to tread lightly with how much I take. Each of them is pretending that there are no strings attached to any of these things I’ve been given, but it’s also been made clear to me that this world exists with plenty of gray to watch out for.
What will be the gray they ask of me in the end?
Curio strides further into his repository, oblivious to the turmoil of my thoughts. He shovels black crystalline rocks into one fire and then another, and I watch as they grow brighter and hotter instantly. The heat forcefully shoves the touch of the cool afternoon away, and I inch closer to the warmth. Corozean desert nights could get very cold, so it’s not like I don’t have experience with cooler temperatures. But something about the wet air here makes it feel as though the chill is sinking into my depths and declaring that I’ll never escape its clutches again.
“So what am I doing here?” I ask as I look around.
I have a feeling I’m looking at a whole lot of manual labor in my future. Hammering things, probably washing dirty pelts, cleaning tools maybe. I don’t look forward to it, but it’s better than the other ways I can be asked to pay for theirkindness.
Curio lifts a large bag of something that oddly resembles sand and drops it on the large metal table. I refuse to admire the way his muscles flex and strain as he picks up another sack and sets it next to the first. Nope. Doesn’t affect me. Not one little bit.
“I need to make a mold of your form,” he tells me, his eyes darting to mine for a moment before flashing away in search of something.
“Why?” I query as he strides over to a huge bucket, picking it up and placing it under a long tap that’s sticking out of the wall.
The knob squeaks as he turns it. Water suddenly sputters out of the mouth and begins to fill the bucket that’s big enough to bathe in.
