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She taps again—four times.Pa-pum, pa-pum. It reminds me of the sound of a heartbeat. So I tap the same number of times, in the same rhythm, and her smile brightens.
Once again, she taps the first series of sounds, and I mimic her. Then the second. Soon we’re tapping together in a regular rhythm. Ree-mee nods in satisfaction, pleased with my performance. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I guess I’m doing it well.
Now that I’m going with the beat, she changes her own tapping. She hits at half-notes, and moves her hand to a different part of the crate, making a new sound. Her tapping adds exciting flavor to whatever song we’re making, and once again I’m reminded of the older trolls playing drums, jamming to some tune that the rest of us couldn’t hear. She taps her other hand on the bars of her cage, adding a surprising metallic ring to the little band. So I bring in my own second hand, and once we have a rhythm going between us, I start riffing. I’m using all four fingers to make a fast-paced beat, my rings jangling when they collide, and now Ree-mee is grinning. All I want to do is keep making her smile like that.
“Stop making a racket back there,” Kugara calls from the front of the wagon. My hands still. Ree-mee looks up, and then back at me with a questioning look in her eyes.
I make a harsh cutting gesture across my throat. The smile drops from her face.
No more percussion band.
Silence falls again, and it’s ominous in the same way that arriving at our destination tomorrow feels ominous. Now that our fun game has ended, my gut is dreading it. What’s going to happen to her there? What will they do to her when she inevitably fights back?
I twist my rings around my fingers absently, trying not to imagine it in detail. I’ve acquired them one at a time since I joined the clan, to keep my coin close to me in a way that no one can steal it—unless they cut off my hands, of course. Rimi follows the motion with her eyes, cocking her head curiously as she studies them. I splay my fingers so she can get a better look, and a shy smile tilts up her mouth as the jewels reflect the light back at her.
Suddenly, I want to know everything about her, this strange human woman who feels music, who has such a sweet smile. Who is tiny Ree-mee? How did she get here? Where is she from?
I can’t ask her these questions, though, so I try to make up answers just by looking in her eyes. They’re bright gray, like a storm cloud, and I can’t help feeling like she’s foreign. Strange. Not just because she’s a human in trollkin lands, but because she’s otherworldly. Even in the human capital, she wouldn’t belong.
I wonder if she’s from far away, and that’s why she feared the crate so much. Did they ship her a long distance in one? I wish there was some way I could talk with her.
What would I say if I could?
* * *
Rimi
I think Lo’zar might be my only way out of here.
For some reason, he’s different than the others. He’s done his best to make me comfortable and fed. He could’ve taken advantage of me at the river, but he didn’t.
I keep wondering if he has some ulterior motive, some reason for treating me with kindness, when the other trollkin only see me as an animal. Perhaps he likes me, just enough to play a tap battle with me and decide it was worth stopping to bathe me.
The idea of escaping had never crossed my mind before because it had seemed utterly impossible. But out here in the wilderness, surrounded by jungle... My chance is calling to me. If I’m ever going to get out of this, the time would be right now, before we reach wherever we’re headed.
Lo’zar is the keystone. I need to convince him to free me.
I’m pretty sure the three trollkin are all mercenaries of some kind. Hired help, which could mean their loyalty doesn’t run too deep. And he definitely desires me. He’d been more than erect during our bathing excursion, and I couldn’t help the twinge of satisfaction I got from knowing I’d caused it. He is strangely attractive, I have to give him that—a whole wall of sleek muscle and thick arms. He tries to hide his interest with his cocky smile, but it’s there underneath.
And if that hard dick of his was any indication, there might even be more. An inkling of lust that maybe I can use for my own purposes.
That night when Lo’zar passes off some of his rations to me, I let my fingers linger on his just a moment longer than necessary. The hair on my arms rises at the skin contact. The first time I do it, his eyes jump up to mine, and there’s a curious look in them.
The second time I do it, they are less curious and more perplexed. The third time, he gets a knowing smile, and he arches an eyebrow at me dramatically. Shit—he knows what I’m trying to do. He says something I can’t understand, then laughs to himself, and passes me another piece of meat. This time, he takes all of my fingers between two of his, and gently tugs my hand towards him. Then, looking me right in the eyes, he says, “Ree-meekagez gizak, ganarr?”
I wish I could understand him. I just furrow my brow, and he sighs. Then he drops my fingers and passes me another piece of meat. He doesn’t take my hand again, but I can tell that he’s paying closer attention to me now, studying me. I wish I knew what he was thinking. I wish I could beg him to let me free.
Chapter5
Lo’zar
Isaw right away that she was trying to butter me up so I’d help her get out of there. But there’s a good reason I’ve never been caught working in this business as long as I have: I’m good at sniffing it out when something’s a little fishy.
Yet it does make me admire Ree-mee even more, knowing that she’s shrewd. She wants to escape, and I’m part of her scheme.
I try to tell her that she doesn’t need to offer herself to me in exchange for getting out of here. If I could speak her language, I’d say that I’ve already been formulating a plan after Kugara killed our jam session.
There are a few options, if I actually want to do this, which I’m still not sure that I do. I know that I can’t simply watch her get beaten or raped by whoever purchased her and ordered her shipped here. But that means defying Gusak, which would inevitably lead to getting my limbs cut off one at a time until I bleed to death—if I’m caught. Not my favorite way to go out.
