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“Azmar.” I grasp his forearm to stop him, then immediately release it, unsure if such an action breaks protocol. When I have his attention, I gesture to Perg. “Could I speak with him a few minutes? Please? He’s the one who found me.”
Azmar’s topaz eyes look toward Perg before lifting to the clock. “I know. Can you find your way?”
I pull the map from my pocket. “Always do.”
His lip makes the slightest quirk, though for how serious he is, I might have imagined it. “Be careful.”
I nod. He hesitates, glances to Perg, then continues down to Engineering.
Crossing the road, I call out, “Perg!”
He stops and looks to either side, and I chuckle at his confusion. I hurry, gritting my teeth each time I step with my left foot. He must catch the movement from his periphery, for he turns abruptly toward me. To my delight, he grins.
“Lark.” His grin fades as he takes in my face. “You’re still not well.”
“Not well looking, perhaps, but well enough.” I take a second to catch my breath.
He glances at my leg. “Well enough,” he repeats. “I’m sorry for what they did.”
The memory takes me aback—that and his concern for me. I glance at his wagon. “Where are you going?”
“I’m a stone layer.” He says it like it’s the most menial and unimportant job in Cagmar. “Taking this down to Deccor housing.”
“That isn’t near Engineering, is it?”
He tilts his head. “Close. Why are you ... Oh, Azmar.”
I start walking, and Perg follows, kindly slowing his step to keep pace with me. “I’m taking a rest from physical labors and helping him today.”
Perg’s eyes are a very human shade of hazel, but they regard me suspiciously. “You can read?”
“And write, and do arithmetic.” Growing up, I’d never realized what a privilege that was.
“But you’re human.” He winces. “I mean, not that all humans should be ... Well, they are—”
“It’s all right.”
Perg releases an audible sigh at my dismissal. He shifts the handle of the wagon to his other hand as we walk. “I’m glad you’re all right, anyway.”
I smile at him, and he turns away, avoiding my gaze. We walk in silence a ways, though it isn’t an uncomfortable one. A few trolls throw hard looks my way, but as I reach the corridor leading to the lower levels, I realize more than half of them are for Perg.
It’s one thing to be human, but is it worse to be both? Yet Perg is not thelowestcaste, only near so.
Thinking of his past honesty, I say, “Might I ask you ... a personal question?”
Perg runs a thumb over his pronounced canines. “Who were my parents and why did they have the audacity to create me?”
I trip at his words. “I ... well, I would not ask it so ... bluntly.” Heat rises in my cheeks, making my bruises throb.
A sad yet mischievous half smirk, all too human, stretches his face. “My mother was trollis, actually. Most assume it’s the other way around. But it’s no love story, if that’s what you’re hoping for.” The smile fades, flattening his expression. “I don’t know everything. Some drunken revelry, mistakes, and there I was. Half human, without a bloodstone pairing.”
“I’m ... sorry.” I’m unsure how to respond. “Bloodstone pairing?”
“Trollis trade bloodstones to mate.”
I stare up at him, considering. “Is marriage so easy?”
He lifts an eyebrow. “It’s ... Oh, you mean the human custom.”
