This room proved to be small and quiet, with only a lone orc inside. The orc looked older than any others Maria had seen here so far, and he was thin and white-haired, sitting slumped on a rickety bed, and gazing blankly toward the opposite wall.
“Dufnall,” Simon said, his voice low. “What is amiss?”
The orc glanced up, his eyes cloudy and vague — but when he caught sight of Maria, he jolted, and edged further away on the bed. “Hungry,” he said mournfully. “Hunted rat to eat. But theystole.”
“Who stole?” Simon asked, again soft, surprisingly soothing. “You ken scents, or faces?”
“No,” the orc said, as his eyes caught on Maria again, and he slid further away. “Humanhere.”
“Ach, she no harm you,” Simon replied. “Skai orcs steal your rat? Brothers?”
“Brothers,” said the orc, his voice rising. “Young brothersalwayssteal rat!”
Simon visibly exhaled, and settled a heavy hand on Dufnall’s thin shoulder. “Peace, brother,” he said. “I soon bring new rat. Or you go to kitchen, and eat there. You remember this, ach?”
“Want tohunt,” Dufnall replied, with a doleful sigh. “Wantnewrat.”
Simon nodded and patted the orc’s shoulder, again with surprising gentleness, and then turned and stalked out the door. Dragging Maria after him into another new room, this one entirely empty, though she caught sight of a narrow little crevice at the back.
“Stay,” Simon ordered her, as he strode for the crevice, and slipped silently behind it. Vanishing for only a few moments before reappearing again, but now with fresh-lookingbloodon his mouth. And clutched in his hand — Maria shuddered — was indeed a dead, dripping-red rat.
“Oh, howvile,” Maria said, her stomach roiling — to which Simon snorted, and beckoned her after him back to Dufnall. Who crowed aloud at the sight of the new rat, and instantly began gnawing at it with thoroughly nauseating gusto.
After that, Simon thankfully washed up in the Skai bath, and then stalked into yet another room, this one with three younger-looking orcs wrestling on the floor inside. And after a loud, alarming bellow from Simon in black-tongue, the young orcs scuttled off past them into the corridor, heads bowed, shoulders hunched.
“Rat hunting,” Simon said flatly, by way of explanation. “A full day of this ought to teach them to better honour their elders, ach?”
And looking at the grim satisfaction in his eyes, Maria felt the odd, rising urge to throw her arms around him, perhaps to shove him up against the closest wall — but he was already striding out into the corridor again, where he soon proceeded to sniff out several more unnerving situations. Including an accusation of theft, a pair of orcs who were screaming at each other in black-tongue, and an irate trading-room porter who’d refused to serve a certain orc because, apparently, he’d snored too loudly the night before.
And finally, to Maria’s rising astonishment, was a cozy, fur-lined room, with two orcs inside. One of the orcs was again Drafli, now leaning against the nearest wall, frowning at Maria with his typical dislike — and the other orc was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room, holding two small objects in his fingers, and staring up at Maria with wide, fearful black eyes.
It was — alittleorc. With a smooth, unmarked grey face, and a neat braid winding over his shoulder. And in his hands — Maria studied them again, recognition dawning — were a pair of carved stone figures.Toys.
Simon spoke something to the little orc in black-tongue, his voice back to quiet and soothing — but those small, glittering eyes were still fixed to Maria, and tainted with unmistakable fear. “That is human,” he said, his voice high-pitched, his tiny claw pointing toward Maria. “It smell funny.”
Maria blinked, and beside her Simon actually nodded, his face perfectly impassive. “Ach, humans’ scent is no like orcs,” he said evenly. “This human is Maria. Maria, this is Bjorn, who is new to our mountain.”
Oh. The name sounded vaguely familiar, and wait,wait, this was the young orc whose father Simon hadkilledthe other day, good gods. And despite the sudden clutch in Maria’s belly, she drew in breath, and even managed a little smile down toward him.
“Hi there,” she said. “It’s so lovely to meet you. I like your toys.”
The fear in Bjorn’s eyes had given way to something more like suspicion, and he carefully slid the toys behind his back, out of Maria’s sight. “What good are you?” he asked her, his nose wrinkling. “What do you do here?”
Maria blinked again, but felt her mouth twitching up, her eyes glancing at Simon’s impassive face. “Well,” she said, “I mostly hang around Simon’s room, and eat his food, and pester him to entertain me. I also fight very badly.”
The small orc looked even more suspicious than before, his black brows furrowing. “This is no good. You do no else of use?”
Maria couldn’t help her smile this time, quick and true. “I can clean, I suppose. And, well” — she shot another swift glance at Simon — “I used to be able to do a decent jig, if that counts?”
Bjorn looked wholly unconvinced, so without further hesitation, Maria tapped out a beat with her foot, and then launched into a jig. It was one of the most ridiculous ones her father had taught her, consisting of much foot-stomping and arm-flailing — but it was also just as fun as she remembered. And even if both Simon and Drafli were looking at her like she’d grown two heads, that was surely amusement in Bjorn’s eyes, and perhaps even an upwards tug at the corner of his mouth.
“This is yet no real use,” he said thoughtfully. “But if this please Simon, mayhap it is enough for him to keep feeding you.”
The bubble of laughter escaped before Maria could help it, and she grinned at Simon beside her, at the unmistakable trace of warmth in his eyes. “Gods, I hope so,” she said lightly. “I’ll jig for you any time you like, Simon.”
Simon did smile at that, showing just a hint of sharp fang, and then he strode over to the little orc, fishing something out of his trouser pocket. “Here, little brother,” he said, handing it over, and Maria realized it was another carved figure, in the shape of a tiny orc. “I bring you more tomorrow, ach?”
Bjorn snatched away the figure with visible eagerness, and immediately set to playing again. And once Simon and Maria were back in the corridor, Maria couldn’t seem to stop her arm from circling around Simon’s waist, drawing him close. Needing to touch him, somehow, to bury her face in the warm, pulsing heat of his chest.
