Maria’s body stilled again, her eyes searching, blinking, adjusting to the dimmer light. And then finding, to her genuine surprise, that she was standing in an actualcorridor, carved smooth and square out of the mountain’s solid stone. It was just as wide and tall as any of the hallways in Warmisham House, and the light came from a series of intricate wrought-ironlamps, embedded at regular intervals into the seamless stone walls.
Maria couldn’t stop staring, first at the lamps, and then at the perfectly smooth walls, and then at what looked like adoorup to the right, carved tall and square into the stone wall. And good gods, Orc Mountain wasn’t supposed to look like ahouse, it was supposed to be a vermin-infestedhovel, a black hole of violence and disease anddeath—
She shot an uncertain glance toward the huge orc, who was now looming in the corridor up ahead, and glowering back toward her.Waitingfor her, Maria’s scrambled thoughts noted, and she jerked a nod, and hurried to catch up again.
The orc grunted, a sound that might have almost been approving, if not for the still-furious scowl on his harsh face. But this time, to Maria’s vague surprise, he wasn’t aiming his scowl at her, but instead at —another orc. Yes, another orc, jogging straight down the corridor toward them, his full attention clearly fixed upon —her.
And without at all meaning to, Maria felt herself edging backwards, behind the massive bulk of her orc. Or rather, thefirstorc, and that wasall— but even so, it somehow seemed as though he’d angled his huge body before her too, almost entirely hiding her from this new orc’s view.
“Simon!” the new orc exclaimed, skidding to a halt before them. “You’ve brought home awoman!”
Maria could see her orc —Simon? — further stiffening, but he didn’t make to move away from her, or indeed offer any kind of introduction. A blatant discourtesy that the new orc seemed wholly undaunted by, as he peered around Simon’s shoulder to flash Maria a wide, sharp-toothed smile.
“Greetings, new Skai woman,” the orc said, with a fluid little bow. “Welcome to our mountain. I am Baldr of Clan Grisk, left hand to our captain.”
Maria blinked back at this —Baldrorc, who unlike her orc was fully dressed in a proper tunic and trousers, with no obvious adornments in his own long black braid. And while still massive, he was noticeably smaller than her orc — thanSimon— and he looked younger, too, his grey-green face smooth and symmetrical, his visible scars far less severe.
Baldr kept smiling as Maria inspected him, his dark eyes eager and expectant in the lamplight. As though he was waiting for her tospeak, and good gods, orcs weren’t supposed to be polite, or friendly, and why couldn’t shethink—
“Um, hello, Baldr,” Maria finally croaked, around Simon’s huge shoulder. “I’m Maria. From Preia. Very happy to meet you.”
She was still speaking with her father’s accent, and she was counting on the fact that no one but her parents had ever called her Maria. And indeed, there wasn’t even a trace of suspicion from this Baldr, but only another genial smile, another flourishing little bow.
“I am happy to meet you also, Maria,” Baldr said, and she belatedly noticed that his own voice was also faintly accented, with a distinctive melodious lilt. “It has been many moons since a Skai has brought a mate to our mountain.”
Wait, amate? Simon’s hulking shoulders seemed to hunch higher, and he glowered down at Baldr, his clawed hand fidgeting at his sword-hilt. “Nomate,” he growled. “Woman whowishesfor mate.”
Baldr’s glance at Simon’s face was surprisingly warm, perhaps almost teasing. “Ach, I can smell,” he said lightly. “You must needs finish fulfilling her wish, ach, brother? Mayhap you shall take her to the Skai wing now, and I shall send for food, and oil, and a hot bath?”
He shot another encouraging smile at Maria as he spoke, and then, if she wasn’t mistaken, he actuallywinkedup at Simon. A gesture that Simon instantly returned with a ghastly frown, as one clawed hand rattled the sword at his side, and the other snapped up to rub at his visibly grinding jaw.
“I said,no mate,” he hissed at Baldr, his voice deep, bitter. “Woman seek tosell. Totrick. To playgame.”
Baldr’s smile faltered, his brows furrowing as he glanced back at Maria — and for a choked, stilted instant, she felt almost —guilty. Ashamed. Regretful, somehow, for falsely raising this cheerful orc’s hopes on his bad-tempered brother’s behalf. And truly, this was allridiculous, orcs werenotsupposed to be kind, they werenotsupposed tolive in houses, and most importantly, this Simon orcloathedher. Didn’t he?
“But your scent is strong upon her, brother,” Baldr said to Simon, and his dark eyes looked troubled now, perhaps even pained. “And hers upon you. And I can smell your —”
He didn’t finish, darting another furtive glance at Maria — and suddenly Maria found she couldn’t even meet his eyes, her own gaze dropping to the floor. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, butrevenge.
“Need meeting,” Simon’s deep voice rumbled. “Now. With Captain. Drafli. Nattfarr. Silfast and Olarr. John-Ka. Mayhap mates also.”
If Baldr gave a reply, Maria didn’t hear it — and when she looked up again, he was already jogging away, while Simon glared after him, his clawed hand still rubbing at his sharp jaw. Which, Maria distantly noted, was shadowed with thick blackstubble. And for an instant, there was a compulsive,completelyirrational urge to reach up, to trace her finger against it —
But thankfully Simon stalked off again, striding with long, silent steps down the corridor, and Maria belatedly followed, dragging in deep breaths, and forcing herself to actually take note of the mountain around her. This area seemed to be a main thoroughfare, with regular square-cut openings in the walls, and occasionally it broke into yet more corridors, twisting away into darkness. None of the adjoining rooms or corridors were illuminated, but she could sometimes hear deep murmurs from within, speaking in what must have been the orcs’ foreign, unintelligible black-tongue.
“Here,” Simon’s gravelly voice snapped, and when Maria blinked toward him, he’d stopped outside one of the doors in the wall, jerking his dark head toward it. “In.”
Maria hesitated, and shot a wary glance at the room beyond him. This one was lined with more of the wrought-iron lamps, and in their flickering light, she could see what appeared to be a propermeeting-room. With a large low table occupying the bulk of it, a shelf of neatly organized books and papers off to the left, and a small fire merrily crackling in a grate on the opposite wall.
It was again surprisingly welcoming, not at all the sort of place one would expect to find inOrc Mountain— and when Maria shot a helpless, searching glance up toward Simon’s watching eyes, it was almost as though he could again seeintoher, reading her thoughts as they passed.
“You ken you finddumphere, ach?” he hissed, his lip curling. “Orcs are nobeasts. Go. Sit.”
Maria winced, but jerked a nod, and made to step inside — but that meant she had to pass very close by Simon’s hulking form, still looming in the doorway. And as she did so — curseallthe gods above — her hand somehow, unaccountably, brushed against Simon’sthigh. His hot, solid, muscle-wrapped thigh, straining against the fabric of his trousers…
She yanked her hand away, far too late — but suddenly, somethingcaughtit. Clamping tight around her wrist, holding her there, tense, close.
Simon’shand.
