I tilted my head back, my mouth dry, my throat scratchy. Looking at the dark ceiling, I realized I couldn’t actually see where the room ended.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have taunted the human male so much. Perhaps I shouldn’t have pushed him to anger. I should have remained lying down and I should have made him think I was still wounded, that I was still robbed of my strength. Instead, I’d given in to my pride and ego.
I thought my father had long beat both those things out of me.
A humorless, dark laugh rose in my throat.
I needed to make a plan.
That much was clear.
Within moments, I knew what direction that plan was heading in. I think I’d always known, I just hadn’t wanted to give in to it.
The female.
Thesarkia.
The witch.
Logically, I knew that she was my best chance for escape. Despite what I’d told the humans’ leader, I knew the Dead Mountain was too far into the fog for my horde to reach. I couldn’t depend on Valavik or mydarukkarsto come. Nor did I want them to. It was too dangerous.
But the female…she could bend the fog to her will. I’d seen it, hadn’t I?
She had all the answers. Why I was here. What purpose I was supposed to serve. Where the Ghertun were. And most importantly, how to control the fog that had begun to plague our lands.
Though it would further wound my pride, I would need to appeal to her. I coulduseher. I already knew she felt shame and guilt for my being here. She’dapologizedto me.
I was a callous, cold bastard. And I would do whatever I could to protect myself and my horde. As such, I had no misgivings about using her for information, for playing upon those emotions to guide her towards freeing me.
Thus far, however, I had not been kind to her. That would need to change. Trust took time to build. But how long did I have left?
The next time she comes, I vowed quietly.
The next time she comes, I would put my plan into motion.
I only prayed to Kakkari that it wouldn’t be too late.
* * *
In the end,I didn’t need to wait long.
Later that night, I was jolted from sleep when I heard the door. My head felt cloudy from sleep and the loss of blood.
But when her scent reached me, it cleared most of the fog away and I straightened, my chains rattling behind me.
I caught a flash of her green eyes before she shut the door. Tonight, she wore a long shift dress, grey in color, that brushed the tops of her bare feet. It hid her form well, as baggy and loose as it was. She pressed her ear to the door, listening, and then she let out a soft sigh, turning towards me.
Another basin of water was cradled in one arm and she held a small torch in the other, which she perched in the holder along the wall.
Then she was drawing closer. She gasped when she saw the wound in my shoulder. The side of my face felt tender and hot from the spear strikes. And my abdomen felt tight and bruised, as if I’d been kicked, though I hadn’t been, at least when I was conscious.
But all of that flew out of my mind when she crouched before me.
Because when my eyes fastened on her face, when I saw the blue ring that lined her eye and a swollen, puffy lip, which had scabbed over in deep red blood, I growled. The chains rattled when I leaned towards her.
And I didn’t understand it, the rage that I felt coursing through me at the sight of her bruised face. I shouldn’t feel anything for thissarkia. She’d tricked me. She was thereasonI was here, chained and battered andcaged.
Only, there was no denying the fury I felt rising in my blood at the sight of her.
