Had I actually thought the room was too isolated?It hardly seemed that way now.If fact, it struck me as the perfect place to see if the human was anywhere near as pliant as he claimed to be….
But instead of unfastening the ties, he slipped his fingers into a hidden pocket.“I look at things with a different perspective than anyone else who answers to you.All the guards underestimate me—which I suspect might come in handy.”He drew out a tightly-rolled slip of parchment.“I’m surprisingly resourceful, see?You ask—and I deliver.”
He held onto the scroll more firmly than I expected, which forced our fingertips to brush together as I took it.That meager bit of contact was enough to tease me with how his human skin might feel…but when I opened the scroll, I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.The thing was covered in inscrutable symbols.
“What is this supposed to be?”I demanded.
Archie was taken aback.“You’re the shaman—I thought you’d have ‘eyes to see’!”
The scroll curled over my hand, determined to roll itself up again.I spread it with my fingers and scanned the markings.The leadpoint figures were not proper letters, only a series of hatches and dots, almost like someone had used the parchment to clean up metal filings that had left their impression on the hide.I slapped the scroll down onto the meditation cushion and held it mostly open.“Are you saying you can’t read it?”I asked Archie.
The human’s cheeks went pink, as did the tips of his ears.“It’s not like any kind of writing I’ve ever seen.I just figured it was how orcs wrote.”
I let go with a sigh.The scroll snapped shut.“Orcs write the same as humans do.Just without all those useless little squiggles and swoops.”
“Well, damn.”Archie planted his hands on his hips and scowled at the scroll.“I’d been looking forward to your gratitude all day.”
Did all humans take failure so lightly?Had I ever delivered such a disappointment to my garrison commander, he would’ve had me whipped.Probably.If I weren’t the chieftain’s son, anyhow.“A slave should not expect gratitude.”The words were hardly convincing, as mostly I was considering the cant of his hip.My voice sounded thick.
And Archie heard it, too.His eyes twinkled.“Expectation and anticipation are two entirely different things.”He dragged a finger through the traces of stew in the bowl and sucked the tip, never dropping my gaze.When I didn’t break eye contact, he smiled around his finger—wicked, and full of promise—and eased forward with a suggestive sway of the hips.
But before either of us could take the conversation any further, we were interrupted by a sharp knock.I flinched back as Kof called through the stone door that the chieftain was here.I glanced at Archie as the door rolled open, but now all trace of mischief was gone from his eyes.An undisguised look of nervousness passed between us as we prepared to face Ul-Rott.
10
ARCHIE
In all my time here in the shaman’s cave of the Red Hand Clan, Ul-Rott the Spinecrusher had never taken it upon himself to darken the doorstep.Not while I was conscious, anyhow.Not even once Taruut’s honor guard finally discovered the ancient shaman had breathed his last mysterious prophecy.
Droko still had two more days to find the crypt.But orcs didn’t strike me as being particularly patient, and I wouldn’t be surprised to learn the chieftain had come to step up the pace.
We found Ul-Rott and his entourage at the entrance of the cave system, where the cavern was cluttered with carvings and bones, statues and trinkets.I refrained from mentioning the fact that it looked like a stall in a two-bit bazaar that specialized in selling novelties to superstitious tourists.I was smart enough to know when a bit of levity would go over well…but also when I was better off keeping my mouth shut.
As the honor guard stooped and groveled, Ul-Rott took in the chamber with a look of cool assessment.While I’d presumed I didn’t much care about whatever it was the orcs found so impressive, when I took stock of Ul-Rott…I realized that notion might not be entirely true.Certainly, there were bigger orcs in the room, and they were decked out in heavier armor and carrying much larger swords.But the chieftain had a magnetism—apresence—that no amount of weaponry could replace.
His face was craggy and his eyes were sharp.Strong brow, strong jaw, strong everything.His skin was the muted green of old moss, with a speckling of pebble-colored flecks scattered across his cheekbones.His hair was the greyed black of a tarnished blade, pulled back in a wiry tail.And the chains around his broad neck, forged in gold, were heavy enough to sink a small ship.
Ul-Rott took stock of the room as if the tourist trap ambiance wasn’t lost on him, and said, “So.Is this where you work your healing magic?”
He’d said the last few words as if they were patently ridiculous.Droko didn’t rise to the bait.In fact, he just narrowed his eyes at the chieftain’s skepticism, and the tension in the room went thick.
Either he was baiting the chieftain…or he truly didn’t know better than to suggest treating someone in the entryway.
“Forgive me, Droko the Sage,” I groveled like a well-trained slave, “but I haven’t finished clearing out theinfirmaryyet—I didn’t realize we’d be receiving such an esteemed visitor.”
The chieftain’s gaze skimmed over me, and he spoke to Droko as if I had no more mind than one of the dozens of bird skulls rattling around.“Humans.Strange little things.But surprisingly useful…once you train them up.”
But then I realized he wasn’t referring to me—at least not entirely—but another human standing there in the pack, a head shorter than the musclebound orcish guards.The man was all in leather—an elaborate, strappy affair with a whip hanging from the belt—and around his neck was a gold chain nearly as heavy as the chieftain’s.His hair hung to his shoulders in glossy, dark waves, and a short goatee framed lips just this side of pretty.But it was his expression that struck me most of all, the look of fierce intensity he was giving me, as if he was trying to get my attention without the orcs being any the wiser….
I’ll be damned.The guy in the fancy leather was Quinn.
Well…didn’theclean up nice?
But now wasn't the time for reunions.
Ul-Rott shifted his shoulders uneasily and said, “Let’s get this over with.I’m none too fond of skulking around inside the earth like a bunch of goblins—unnatural, if you ask me.No light.No breeze.And it stinks like a clutch of eggs forgotten in the larder.Lead the way, Archie.”
I started as he said my name.
