Page 74 of Wed to the Orc Captive

“Sareet, drop it,” one of them muttered. “She’s becoming one of us.”

“Yeah. One of us.” She let go of my face. “I’m nice. I’ll even give you a knife. Each of us had to make one. Here. Now it’s easier than what we give children.” The blade dropped in front of me. It wasn’t steel; some kind of napped stone. “You’re in the bottom of the crucible. You climb to the top before the sun goes down and the creatures of the night come. That’s it. That’s all. You’re inside, and you get out.”

My voice still slithered. “What’s the knife for?”

Her smile was wicked. “For if you’re not fast enough.”

“Sareet!” Behind her, Khal’s cousin started to step forward, stopped.

The one in front of me clicked her tongue, straightened. “Larrakh is so worried about what her cousin will think. It took convincing to get her to help, didn’t it?” Her mouth sneered. “But she knows the truth, like I do. She knows it’s better to die with a knife in your hand than to live as prey.”

If those were the only options, I was well and truly screwed.

My hands were still tied, behind my back, the fingers losing feeling.

“The Drashik don’t raise weaklings. We don’t adopt them, either. You can decide, in the next few hours. Decide if you’re going to survive as Drashik, or if you’re going to die.”

My head still pounded. She walked away in front of me, and after a moment Khal’s cousin and the others— three more— behind her followed, other footsteps, a scuffling against stone. I wrenched myself up in time to see the last one scaling the wall, swift as a fish up a stream, a rope pulling up behind them. Cold air whipped down into the basin.

Their children did this.

Were they drugging and binding children in a pit?

Was that more or less brutal than letting someone grow up to be human?

The walls stretched, pitted and scratched and rough overhead. Cave mouths pocked the murk of the basin surrounding me. From what I remembered through this pounding headache, whatever night creatures my kidnappers had referenced would likely come from there.

I was not going to find another way out through a cave.

The blade Sareet had left was in front of me. I crawled to it, and managed to get it in my bound hands, start fumbling with the ropes. I was taking too long. While I struggled, the tether of Rowena’s magic snapped, and my fingers went numb.

Then finally I was free. I was free, surveying the rock in the morning murk, with only a knife.

There had to be somewhere that was an easier path, but my eyes were already struggling with only a few clouds. Some part of this would be blind luck.

I chose a piece of wall and tried.

My skirt tangled my legs, and my foot slipped on the fabric and I fell. I hissed, shaking an injured elbow. I was fine. This was no worse than falling at home. I’d fallen lots of times. I hiked up my skirt and figured out how to tie it girded up. Modest calves weren’t going to save me here, but my footing might.

I started again. I think I wasted too much time with the initial untying of my hands, and then with the skirt. I picked the same wall again, because I knew I could get partway up, but I reached a point where I couldn’t get my feet to reach, and my arms weren’t anywhere near strong enough to pull me. Could I cut a foothold with the knife? No, this was rock, and I had hours, not years. I retraced back down. The sun passed its zenith. I chose another wall.

I was thirsty.

They said they’d done this while it was raining. How? I was gasping for air and trying not to slip as it was. I lost a foothold and I hung, for a moment, by my arms. When my feet found a purchase and I could push to the ledge, my hand was bleeding.

Another wrong choice. Another dead end.

The sun sank. The world chilled. That pinprick of sky stained red.

Sounds started to stir in those caves. I climbed.

The next point without a foothold was thirty feet below the rim.

I tried retracing partway, but I couldn’t risk getting close enough to meet the jaws of whatever lurked below. I tried looking down, but my eyes found only murk. If I had orc vision, would I be able to find my way? How long had it been since I left Rowena’s? Would Grezha look for me? Would someone think to look here? No, I had to focus. I couldn’t count on some lucky rescue and wait until I was eaten by whatever lurked in that darkness. I reached out, feeling for something to grab.

I’d thought I was strong, in my village. I’d convinced myself by fetching and hauling and carrying, with survival and silence, but here I couldn’t pull myself up a rock. I couldn’t see two feet in front of my face. I couldn’t fight a monster in the dark.

I was weak.