Still, I don’t want them to take offense if I don’t eat it.
Since I don’t know how to ask for a spoon, I tilt the bowl directly into my mouth. The slop doesn’t taste like much, but the growling in my stomach eventually fades once the bowl is empty.
How much longer will Maddox be gone?
When I stand, so do the two women on either side of me, too quickly to be a coincidence. Are they concerned with keeping me safe . . . or keeping me here?
Turning toward the closest one, I force a smile. Her chin jerks back like I screamed, but then she gets closer. Too close. So close, I can smell the sweat on her skin and see each individual lash surrounding her black eyes.
“Do you mind?”
She catches my chin and forehead, prying my mouth open to stare down my throat. I try to pull back, but her grip is too bloody strong. She sticks her dirty fingers in my mouth, dragging them along my teeth.
I finally manage to extricate myself, stumbling back into a solid wall.
Not a wall.
It’s an Unseelie man with hair as white as mine whose bloated stomach distends over his worn trousers. The nails on his bare feet are as brown as the mud beneath them. Two othersemerge from the hole in the cliff, each more wrinkled than the one before.
Maddox said there were only three men in the whole clan.
Surely he didn’t meanthesemen. They’re soold.
Three women waddle out of the same cavern, their bellies round with pregnancy. They all kiss the same man on the cheek and then continue past me toward the women stripping the fur from some animal I cannot even begin to identify.
What is happening in this bizarre place?
“Where is Maddox?” I say to the woman who brought me food.
Please tell mesomeonespeaks my language.
All the question earns me are blank stares and scowls.
“My friend,” I try again, holding my hand above my head to indicate his impressive height. A few heads tilt, and those closest mutter under their breath before resuming what they had been doing when we arrived, as if I’m not standing in the middle of their village begging for help.
One of the men leans a skinny arm against the cliff, his gaze raking down to my own bare feet, which I’ve yet to wash.
The man sucks on his teeth and waggles his brows.
My stomach roils. He can take that look and choke on it. If he so much as touches me, I’ll knee him in the groin.
Where is Maddox?
What if they’ve stolen him from me?
What if they decide not to let him go?
And what if he’s a willing captive?
34
Maddox
“Females are terrifying.”
— Maddox Finch, An Observation
Raven traces a finger down my arm that has not been wounded, her smile warm and welcoming. “You are very brave to face a wolf on your own.”
