The ship is massive, easily three times the size of the train car that brought me to Concord City. But where the train was sleek silver and smooth, designed to look modern and refined, this vessel is something else entirely.
The hull is constructed from what looks like dark metal, but it’s not uniform or polished. It has hammered plates riveted together in overlapping sections that remind me of scales or armor. The surface is etched with intricate patterns that might be decorative or might serve some function I don’t understand.Swirling designs cover every visible panel, and while I don’t know what they are, I’ve seen similar designs in books about The Great War.
The ship sits low and wide, like it’s built for power rather than elegance. It looks like something that could tear through the sky faster than the jets I’ve read about. There are no visible wheels or landing gear that I can see. It simply hovers about a foot off the ground, humming with a deep, resonant sound I can feel in my chest.
Lady Frax’mo taps her screen again, and an entrance ramp lowers with a hiss of hydraulics, revealing warm golden light that spills from the interior. The metal groans slightly as the ramp settles into place, and I can see that even the ramp is covered with the same designs etched across the ship.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” I say, biting my tongue because I’m not sure if I should speak.
“She’s calledKaz’gara. It means Swift Thunder, in our ancient tongue,” she explains, gesturing toward the ramp, and I realize she’s inviting me aboard. Although I have a feeling if I decline this invitation, things will stop being so civil.
I hesitate for just a moment, looking back at The Grand Hotel looming behind us. Rose is somewhere in there. She could be standing on that stage right now, being bid on by men like the ones who wanted to buy me. Cedar and Jasmine too.
But as much as I hate it, there’s nothing I can do for them. My fate has already been decided. I take a deep breath and walk up the ramp, feeling like I’m walking into the unknown. Except when I get to the top of the ramp, I realize theunknownalso includes another orc.
“Find a seat and sit down,” he growls.
This orc resembles the savages I’ve seen in old books. He’s enormous. At least seven feet tall and built like he could uproot trees with his bare hands. His skin is darker than Lady Frax’mo’s, almost gray in places, and covered in thick, corded muscle. His arms are heavily scarred, pale lines that stand out against his skin like a map of past violence.
His attire definitely isn’t formal. It looks like battle armor made of the same dark, textured material as the ship’s hull, partially covered by a fur cloak. I’m not sure what kind of fur it is, but it’s too black to belong to any of the domesticated animals I’m familiar with.
I take a seat in the back of the ship. Lady Frax’mo boards the ship, says something to the orc pilot I can’t make out, and sits across from me. A few seconds later, the door closes with a hiss and the ship rises from the ground. It’s smoother than I expect it to be but not as smooth as the train. I grab my armrest when we get higher in the air.
“Are you afraid of flying?” Lady Frax’mo asks gently.
“Um, never flown before,” I admit.
“You have nothing to worry about. You’re more likely to be eaten by a bear than die in a crash,” she says, smiling slightly.
“You have bears in Uzrirgard?” I ask, hoping I’m pronouncing the name of her country correctly.
“Yes. Black bears. Brown bears. Even polar bears, near the ice caps up north,” she answers. “We’re hunters, so we respect our wildlife and never hunt them to extinction.”
“We don’t really have wildlife,” I say. “Not since The Salting.”
“With all the money humans have made from the Reparations Auction, they could have replenished all the soil in their country if they chose to,” she says. “Instead, they seem to prefer buying their food from other countries and expanding Concord City. One day, it’ll probably be as big as your entire country.”
All those years of rationed water. All those cactus fields. Beverly’s cracked hands. Abigail’s thin little arms. And it didn’t have to be that way. Rose and I didn’t even have to be sold.
I glance out the window, my stomach tightening when I realize we’re higher up now. But from here, I can see just how big Concord City really is. I’m not sure how many Troonas could fit in it, but it’s easily hundreds.
But I’ve got more to worry about than the size of a city I’ll probably never see again. The woman sitting across from me is my new owner, and I still don’t know why she bought me. She seems nice. I hope that’s not an illusion for my sake. If this is a nightmare, I’d rather know that so I can prepare for whatever horrible fate awaits me.
“Are you going to tell me why you bought me?” I ask meekly, trying to be respectful. “Or am I not allowed to ask questions like that?”
“You can ask anything you want.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “I bought you, but I will not be keeping you. You’re going to be a gift for King Lix’tuk.”
“A gift?” I ask, my eyes widening a little.
“Uzrirgard has been peaceful since The Great War, outside of the occasional skirmish at our borders. Peace is something that doesn’t align with our instincts. Our king has gotten old, lonely, and bored,” she explains. “You will keep him company in hisfinal days. He needs someone to talk to. Someone to keep his brilliant mind active. Based on your aptitude scores, you should suffice.”
“Wouldn’t an orc be a better… companion?” I ask, unsure what label to use.
“Of course,” she replies, raising a brow in a way that makes me feel foolish for asking. “But orcs cannot be given as gifts. Humans can, based on the Reparations Treaty, even if we rarely buy them anymore.”
“You rarely buy them?” I ask. “I thought you needed fertile women because of the virus humans released during The Great War.”
“Needed, yes. Past tense. It’s been two hundred years, Clover,” she says flatly. “We solved our fertility crisis long ago. So did the wolf shifters.”
