But no sooner had I reached for it than the wall I was facing lit up bright, with my own shadow cast in front of me…and a much larger shadow looming up from behind.
Reflexively, I rolled myself into a ball.Not only to make myself a smaller target, but to protect my head.’Cause I was about to be pounded with something a hell of a lot worse than a rock.
Footfalls scraped against the grit of the cavern floor, eerily soft.No doubt Gorgul’s tongue was eager to gloat.He was just making sure he was close enough to enjoy the full impact of his words.
I steeled myself against the fate that had been dogging me ever since Taruut, my protector, drew his last rattling breath…only to be baffled by the very human, very exasperated, veryfemalevoice that said, “What’re you playing at, Archie?It’s not as if there’s more than one way out of these caves, and you’ve gotta come out sometime.”
The sound registered first, and then it took my eyes a good, long moment to catch up.And not just because of the bright lantern light dazzling my vision.It was Bess, the meek and tearful girl I’d been chained to on my journey to the orc village.
But the woman standing before me now was anything but meek.And there was nary a tear to be wiped away.
“If you just did what the orcs said, things would be a whole lot easier.”
Bess stood with one hand on her hip and the other holding her lantern high—and she was dressed like an orc.I’d only ever seen her in rags, looking frail and battered.But now she was decked out in leather and fur.Her hair was a glossy mop that curled around her ears, and there was a determined set to her jaw.And while she wasn’t exactly armed, per se, there was a small eating knife strapped to her belt.She might not be able to fend off a marauding horde with the tiny thing…but it was a better weapon than the rock that just fell from my stupefied grasp.
My old traveling companion was the picture of success…aside from the symbol branded into her cheek.A trio of crossed spears.
I pitched my voice low and said, “Listen.You’ve got a knife.I’m sure there’ll be some kind of ceremonial blade around here somewhere—”
“Don’t be dumb.Quinn is fitter than either of us.If he couldn’t take down an orc, what makes you think we would stand half a chance?It sounds as if they need you.And for someone like you or me?Making yourself useful is the best way to stay alive.Besides,” she gestured vaguely to the world at large.“What’s out there for you, anyway?I saw when the guards dragged you into the slaver’s tent, after they passed you all around.But me?No one’s touched me since I got here.That’s more than you can say for the Wasteland.”
I searched for some flippant remark to deny it…but that night had been brutal.I’d seen boys die from less.
Then again, I’d almost succumbed to acough.So what did I know?
“I wouldn’t be so quick to trust the orcs,” I said.“There’s one in particular who’s got his eye on me.And not cause he thinks I’m pretty.”
“Then play up your bond with the shaman.”
“Haven’t you noticed?The shaman is dead.”
Bess narrowed her eyes, but didn’t dignify that remark with a response.“I heard the orcs say that an aging shaman should have his replacement trained and ready to go—but Taruut always said the time wasn’t right.And it’s not like anyone dared contradict him.Even if he was old as dirt.”
“Seems kinda morbid to train your own replacement.”
“Well, who else is supposed to do your funeral rites?They say another shaman is on his way.Show the new orc how useful you are and he’ll keep you around.And anyway, it’s not as if you’ll get too far outside wearingthat.”
The ragged clothes I’d been given in the slave tent were bad enough.Who knows what became of them?As I convalesced, they’d been swapped out for a slip of cloth around my hips that was little more than a scrap.
Despite the sorry state of my person—or perhaps because of it—I straightened my back and squared my shoulders.“All right,” I said.“Let’s do this.We’ll tell the orcs that Taruut has been using me as an assistant these past months, and I’m the best one to help the new guy settle in.”
Confidence is the whole secret behind selling yourself as something you’re not.State your case boldly, maintain eye contact, and never back down.I truly had spent plenty of time with Taruut, so I knew how the old man thought.I could do this.I could.And so I abandoned the rock, which frankly wasn't much of a weapon anyhow, and followed Bess out into the cavern where the Honor Guard readied itself for the new shaman's arrival.
Stepping into the light, I announced, “As you all know, Taruut has been acquainting me with the ways of the shaman—”
My posture was proud and my voice was sure, and my statement held the ring of truth.All in all, a promising start.
Though that didn't do me much good when a bored orcish guard shoved Bess aside, whacked me to the ground with the butt of his spear, threw me in irons…and dragged me away.
3
DROKO
I set out for the Red Hand Clan without so much as a word from my father.He was too busy smoothing out his new alliance with Farya’s clan to worry about a third son he’d likely never see again.My mother gave me several things: a feather from the shaft of her old battleaxe, a bit of carved horn from the buck I’d felled on my first hunt, and some final words of encouragement.
“Remember, my Little Fearless One…not so little anymore.You serve your clan.And there can be no higher purpose.”
It was her blessing to do whatever was necessary, even if it meant I had to sacrifice myself to protect my clan.This was more than just a mission for me—it was my undoing and chance at redemption all at once.
