“Morak,” I said quickly. “I didn’t know. What is he to you?”
“My aunt’s son.”
I nodded and went back to my meal. When I noticed her gaze drifting again and again in the same direction, I followed it to Drak. He stood on the other side of the bonfire, laughing with the orcs who had trained in the meadow earlier.
“What about you? Is there anyone you’d want as a partner?” I asked cautiously. Her shoulders stiffened. “How about… Drak?” I whispered, unable to hide my excitement. I did love a bit of gossip.
Kalisha let out a low growl and glanced around to make sure no one had overheard me.
“I just met him today. He seems like a good orc. Why don’t you talk to him?”
She laughed—a sharp, humorless sound. “Talk to him? I am rak’er.”
She flexed her short fingers, eyes darkened with bitterness.
“And what does that change?”
In Ceilte, appearance was everything. Here, strength and skill mattered. Kalisha was strong, skilled, efficient—nothing about her hinted at weakness.
“I can’t fight,” she said at last.
“But you’re strong,” I pressed. “Why can’t you?”
Her gaze softened, tinged with sadness, and a tight knot formed in my chest. “It’s Okshai law.”
"That’s cruel."
"It’s survival," she corrected, resigned. "In Marukoksha, only the strong remain. Drak wouldn’t choose someone who can’t fight by his side."
I fell silent, seeing her through new eyes.
"He doesn't know what he's missing," I said sincerely, squeezing her hand.
Kalisha startled at the touch. Something in her yielded, and a brief smile appeared.
"Maka’ri, Fiona."
The connection was brief, but enough to soften her expression. Still, as I watched her cast another glance toward Drak, I made a decision. Kalisha was muscular and strong. If I, a fake orc, could learn to fight, she should be able to as well.
"I can teach you," I said. She stared, surprise flickering across her face. "The Ruk’hai trains me. If he teaches me, I can teach you."
Her smile wavered. "I can't."
"I am akra’yn," I insisted. "Malek won't say no."
She hesitated. "If he finds out..."
"He won’t," I smiled mischievously. "We can train in secret."
This time, the smile reached her eyes. "You would do that for me?"
"Of course. You helped me when I first arrived."
Kalisha wrapped me in a strong, unexpected hug. "You're a good brusak, Fiona. Strange, but good."
I couldn't help it; I let out a genuine laugh. "And you're the grumpiest."
She rolled her eyes.
