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This is why he’s the boss, of course. He’s the one constantly looking for opportunity and seizing it when it’s safe to do so. Rarely does he leave himself vulnerable or exposed.
“Thank you for trusting my judgment,” I say, pleased that he’s letting me off the hook so easy. He’s not one to punish when the circumstances are outside our control, but I thought he’d be more disappointed in me. He just nods, then lets out a guffaw when the orc in the pit lands a heavy blow.
As I turn to leave, I hear Gusak say, “Lo’zar, before you go. I have a new job for you to do.”
A new job, after I failed this one? I turn around and nod quickly, eager to make up for my mistake. “Sure, boss. Whatever you want.”
He picks up his mug of beer and swirls it around, finally sparing me a glance. “You might have seen my new acquisition on your way down.”
“The human?” I ask, shifting uncomfortably when I remember the small woman living in her own waste, and how quiet and terrified she was.
“We’re transporting her to a buyer. And you’ll be overseeing her.”
Overseeing her...? He can’t mean what I think he means. Tending to the human’s needs is Kugara’s job. Not that she’s put much effort into it so far.
If he’s giving me a newbie’s work, perhaps he’s not actually forgiven me for Attirex.
“O-oh. All right.” I must have to redeem myself to him. You get ahead in Gusak’s eyes by doing what he says and doing it well, without question. “Will do, boss.”
Gusak nods once, and I take my cue to leave. On my way back up stairs, I pass other trollkin making their way to their rooms, the bath, or the fire pit. I come to a stop in front of the cage with the human inside.
The woman is sleeping, a torn bit of leather partially covering her like a blanket. I wonder why Gusak has her, and who’s intending to buy her. I’m surprised, too. Smuggling goods is one thing, but smuggling humans?
I didn’t think that was the sort of work we did. My stomach roils just looking at her, curled up in a shivering ball.
I’m certainly not going to deal with that stink for an entire trip, so the first thing I do is find Kugara. “You’ve been letting that human live in her own filth?” I demand.
“What do you expect me to do?” She shoves a handful of nuts into her mouth, chewing loudly. “Cleaning and bathing humans is above my pay grade.”
How someone this lazy became part of a crime syndicate, I’ll never know. “Well, apparently it is exactly my pay grade,” I say. “Gusak’s moving her somewhere, and I’m taking over for you.” The least we could do is empty the human’s waste bucket.
Kugara shrugs. “She’s all yours. Good luck.”
Chapter2
Rimi
The next day, the trollkin with the purplish-blue skin, bright eyes, and swagger returns. Short, wild hair shoots out on top of his head and a huge, thick braid trails down his back. He gestures a lot with his hands when he talks, which are all decorated with jeweled rings, and his gold necklaces clink whenever he moves. Naturally, I can’t understand anything he’s saying. That’s how it’s been since I was put in this cage—the monsters constantly talking about me, throwing words in their strange language at me, and then growing angry when I don’t obey their commands.
This is hell, and I will never escape.
When this new trollkin opens my cage, I retreat as far into the back corner as I can. I’m not letting another one of those monsters get their grubby hands on me if I can help it. He uses a soothing voice as he reaches inside and grabs the edge of my chamber pot, then grimaces as he removes it. I think it’s the first time in a week that anyone’s bothered to empty it out.
Is he my new prison guard? Great. A new master to taunt me through the bars and feed me barely enough scraps to live on. He might not have the same hatred etched onto his face as the green female, but he’s dangerous all the same.
Later he brings the chamber pot back, and, with it, a thicker blanket. He holds it out to me, but I crawl even further back, pressing myself against the cold bars on the other side of the cage. Realizing I’m not going to budge, he drops the blanket near me and closes the door again, muttering something. Then he’s gone.
I let out a relieved breath. The less attention on me, the better. At first, when they put me in this cage, I fought. I rattled the bars and cried for help, hoping someone would take pity on me and let me out. But the monsters only shook my cage, sending me sprawling against the cold metal bars. They taunted me and threw food at me. Since then I strive to be as uninteresting as possible.
Sometimes, though, I consider making a ruckus again. Perhaps if I bit and kicked and tried to run for it, they would give up and kill me. That is, perhaps, my only chance of ever reaching freedom from this horrid, stinking, miserable place. If it meant this would end, I would happily let them slit my throat—but they seem more interested in keeping me just on the edge of life.
Often I wonder what they have planned for me. There must be some goal in all this, but I can’t fathom what that is besides torturing me.
Once I’m alone, I reach out for the blanket this latest prison guard has given me, only to find it’s soft and sturdy under my hands. I’m surprised I would be given something of this quality. It will surely keep me warm tonight. I don’t think I’ve felt warm in weeks—maybe even months. I truly have no concept of how long I was on that ship, or how long I’ve been trapped in this cage.
Now that my chamber pot isn’t overflowing anymore, I can smell the scent baked into the fabric when I wrap myself up in it. It’s just faintly musky, like someone uses it often. I wonder if it belongs to the trollkin who gave it to me. I inhale the smell again, because something about it is comforting, an emotion I haven’t experienced since this whole ordeal began. The scent reminds me of sunlight. Who knows how long it’s been since I felt sun on my skin? Before I was always outdoors, soaking in its warmth as I went on an afternoon horseback ride or swam in the lake nearby. Often it was to escape my parents’ bickering, but the sun’s warm rays also gave me life.
The scent of those blissful days in my nose, I fall asleep, and for the first time in a while I don’t cry.
