Simon had seemed to catch sight of Bjorn at the same time Maria had, and beckoned him over with a purposeful wave. And to Maria’s vague surprise, Bjorn indeed crept toward them, his eyes darting suspiciously at the chaos all around.
“Here, little brother,” Simon said to Bjorn, once he was bobbing on his little feet before them. “I have brought you more to play with, ach?”
With that, Simon reached into his pocket, and pulled out another handful of little carvings. He’d been making them throughout their journey, Maria knew, mostly while she’d slept — and Bjorn snatched them away with gratifying eagerness, his dark eyes shining briefly on Simon’s face before he turned to scurry off again.
But then he hesitated, his gaze darting uncertainly back toward Simon. Almost as if he didn’t want to leave yet, and Maria didn’t miss that thoughtful, assessing look in Simon’s eyes. “You ken, little brother,” he said slowly, “that my Maria has much yet to learn of orcs, ach? Thus, for these next moons, I shall oft teach her our ways. Should you wish, I should welcome your help in this.”
Bjorn’s eyes betrayed another unmistakable flash of eagerness, before narrowing back to suspicion again. “You no need help teach,” he said flatly. “You knowall, Simon.”
Simon’s shrug was rueful, the warmth genuine in his eyes. “Ach, I know much,” he replied. “But I am grown orc, ach? It has been many summers since I was new to our ways. But you are young, and thus closer to all this — and thus, your teaching shall hold great worth, I ken.”
The suspicion had somewhat faded from Bjorn’s eyes, and Maria felt herself nodding, the smile tugging up her mouth. “I have alotleft to learn,” she informed Bjorn. “And Simon can beverybossy at times. Perhaps you’ll go a little easier on me?”
But Bjorn’s eyes had narrowed again, his clawed hands clutching tighter at his toys. “I no beeasy,” he said, voice flat. “You are no use, as you are. Why you no evenjigfor Simon yet?”
He jerked his sharp shoulder toward the drummers, his eyes imperious on Maria’s face, and it took all her willpower to choke down the bubbling surge of laughter. “Excellent point, Bjorn,” she said, her voice slightly wavering. “I know how much Simon enjoys my jigging.”
She couldn’t even look at Simon as she launched into her jig, bouncing up and down, following the drummers’ pulsing beat. Instead, she kept her eyes on Bjorn, who had crossed his arms over his little chest, and was watching with his mouth pursed. Almost as if assessing her.Judgingher.
And a glance up at Simon — who happened to be in the exact same pose, giving her the exact same look — was almost Maria’s undoing, and she had to pause for air, dragging in unsteady breaths. And thankfully Rosa strode up, her eyes alight, her blonde head already bobbing to the beat.
“You know how to jig, Maria!” she exclaimed. “You’ll teach us, right? Maybe Simon would like to learn too?”
She shot a hopeful, teasing look toward Simon, who instantly scowled back — but several of the other women had come over, too. And after an extremely belated round of introductions — the jewel-wearing one was Ella of Clan Grisk, and the plump, soft-spoken one was Stella, from Bautul — they followed along while Maria taught the steps, until they were all laughing too hard to continue.
“Did this suitably please you, Simon?” Maria asked him, once she’d tripped back to where he was still standing beside Bjorn. “And you, Bjorn?”
Bjorn gave a curt, commanding little nod before turning and wandering off again, back toward the mountain. While Simon’s eyes on Maria weren’t quite approving, but instead almost… warm. Affectionate.
“Ach, you ken I am always pleased with you,” he murmured. “Now come and bathe with me, ach?”
Maria certainly wasn’t about to refuse a bath, especially once Simon escorted her into the mountain, and down an unfamiliar passage to an entirely new room. One that smelled distinctly of sulphur, and boasted huge pools cut into the stone floor, all steaming with hot water.
“Good gods, Simon,” Maria gasped, as she slid down into the wonderful, all-encompassing heat, and Simon drew her close into his arms. “What else have you been hiding from me, all this time?”
There turned out to be quite a lot, Maria soon discovered, once she was freshly bathed and dressed, and Simon had begun escorting her on an impromptu tour of Orc Mountain. Showing her a kitchen, a large trading-post, multiple forges and shrines and common-rooms, and even alibrary, presided over by an ever-enthusiastic Rosa.
It was all highly intriguing, but even so, Maria felt herself relaxing as they crossed back into the familiar Skai wing, with its narrower, twisty corridors, its oddly comforting darkness. Almost as if, somehow, over these past weeks, it truly had become home.
And as they walked back into Simon’s familiar room, Maria’s throat felt strangely choked, her eyes blinking hard. Because not only was the room still exactly the same — still carefully neat, all the weapons still hanging, her chest still there on the bench — but there was also something new on the shelf. A new carved figure, standing close beside Simon’s father.
And when Maria stepped closer to look, there was another shock of recognition, because it washer. Tall and bare and surprisingly lovely, the curls twisting down her back in carefully carved spirals, her mouth flashing a wide, genuine grin.
Maria truly couldn’t seem to speak, and shot a stunned, helpless look toward Simon — to which he rubbed at the stubble on his jaw, and gave a too-casual shrug. “Wished to — remember you,” he said. “You are pretty human, ach?”
But that telltale redness was creeping up his neck, and it occurred to Maria that based on what she’d seen of his carvings for Bjorn, this must have taken him more than a few days. Gods, it had surely beenweeks, and had he been carving this all this time? Perhaps with the full expectation that she wouldleave?!
And without thinking, Maria hurled herself toward him, and threw her arms around his taut waist. Feeling him sag against her touch, his hands settling on her back, his heartbeat slowing under her ear.
“I love it,” she whispered. “And I loveyou, Simon.”
There was a hitched, twitching silence, a spasm of his fingers against her — and then he drew back, and cupped her face in both his warm hands. Just looking at her, his gaze intent, before he bent down, and pressed a soft, silken kiss to her waiting mouth.
“Wish to reward you,” he murmured, a predatory glint flaring in his eyes. “Before my kin. You shall welcome this, ach?”
A furious ripple of heat shot up Maria’s spine, and she silently, eagerly nodded — to which Simon grasped for the tunic she’d been wearing, and yanked it off over her head. Leaving her standing there in only her loincloth and dagger, while his glittering eyes flicked up, and down, and up again. Assessing.Approving.
And without another word, he shucked his own trousers, clasped Maria’s hand in his, and led her out into the corridor. Intopublic. Like this.
