Page 29 of Orc's Bargain


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TWELVE

RATHOK

Ireach into my armor. Pull out the bone token I’ve carried for over two centuries—the mark of my service, my authority, my identity as the Ledger Master’s enforcer. The sigils carved into its surface pulse with recognition, with obligation, with the chains that have bound me since the day I signed away my freedom.

The token is warm against my palm. It’s been part of me so long, I sometimes forget it’s there—this small piece of bone that defines everything I am. Without it, I’m not an enforcer. I’m not protected by the Master’s authority. I’m just another orc in a city that fears my kind.

Ivalys watches. Wondering.

I snap the token in half.

The break is clean. Final. Magic discharges in a flash of sickly yellow light—the contract that bound me, severing. Pain rips through my chest, the phantom agony of obligations torn loose. This token has been part of me for over two hundred years. Breaking it feels like breaking a bone.

“What are you doing?” Ivalys is on her feet, alarm sharpening her voice.

“Serving my contract.” I let the pieces fall to the floor. Watch them crumble, the magic draining from the bone until they’re just fragments, just dust, just the remnants of everything I used to be. “I told myself I had no choice because admitting I had a choice meant admitting what I chose. Every debt I collected. Every soul I claimed. Every family I destroyed.” My voice roughens. Cracks. “I chose that. Every time. And I’m done choosing it.”

She stares at me. At the broken token on the floor. At all those years of service I’ve just thrown away.

“You’ll die.” Her voice is quiet. “The Ledger Master won’t forgive this. You’ll be hunted. Erased.”

“Probably.”

“Then why?—“

“Because I won’t be his weapon against you.” The words tear out of me before I can stop them. “Because you challenged me when you should have begged. Because you demanded answers when anyone else would have surrendered. Because your voice cuts through the numbness I’ve carried so long, I forgot it wasn’t normal.” I step toward her. Can’t help it. The distance between us narrows to nothing, and I don’t try to stop it. “Because if I have to die, I’d rather die fighting beside you than live another day collecting for him.”

She opens her mouth to respond?—

The summons hits.

Pain explodes through my skull as the Ledger Master’s voice tears through the wards, through the walls, through every defense I’ve spent years building. It’s everywhere and nowhere, reverberating through bone, resonating in blood, shaking the foundations of the safe room itself.

“RATHOK GRIMSHAW.”The words burn themselves into the air, letters of fire hanging in the cramped space.“YOU ARECALLED. BRING THE WOMAN BEFORE DAWN OR FACE ERASURE.”

The message pulses once, twice, three times. Then fades, leaving afterimages seared into my vision.

Ivalys is pale. Her hand has found mine—I don’t know when, don’t know how, but her fingers are laced through my massive ones, the sigil on her palm pressed against my scarred skin.

“Dawn is six hours away.” My voice is rougher than I’d like. The summons took something out of me—energy, maybe, or the last remnants of the bond I just broke. “The city’s exits will be sealed. Every enforcer will be hunting us. We can’t run.”

“No running.” That stubbornness I’ve come to recognize, to admire, to?—

I shove the thought down.

“We will reach the Hall before dawn.” I tighten my grip on her hand. Can’t help it. “Before the Ledger Master finishes whatever he’s doing to your brother. You will speak the truth.”

“I barely know what this gift is.” Her voice wavers. Just for a moment. Just enough to show the fear beneath the fury. “But I’ll figure it out. I don’t have a choice.”

“You’ll learn.” I lift my other hand. Cup her face—finally, finally completing the gesture I’ve been too afraid to make. Her skin is warm beneath my palm, her pulse racing against my thumb. “Your mother figured it out. And you won’t be alone.”

She stares up at me. The gold flecks in her depths burn like stars.

“Do you trust me?” I ask.

She pauses long enough for doubt to creep in. Long enough for me to remember all the reasons she shouldn’t.

“I don’t have a choice.” Her voice is steady. “You’re the only one who knows the way.”