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The orc lets out an irritated grunt, then releases me. Again I try to get my feet under me, to do everything in my power to escape this place where I’ll only find pain and death. This time, he lets me get up, but when I turn to run, he snaps something harsh in Trollkin and yanks me back.
I glare back at him, wiping the tears from my face. “What? I’m sorry I ate your eggs, okay? I am. But I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll?—“
He slaps a hand over my mouth and barks something angry. I think he wants me to shut up, so I do. I know how to obey, because it’s a well-practiced skill. And maybe if I’m compliant, he won’t kill me. All I have to do is live long enough to make a plan.
When he’s certain I won’t speak again, the orc withdraws his hand and snarls. “Yerzag ag kar gen.” As his eyes travel down my body, a more horrible thought enters my mind: What if he wants to use me? What if he plans to abuse me before he kills me? I haven’t heard of trollkin doing that before to humans, but?—
I hear the tromping of more feet. It can’t be. Not another one.
But it is, and this must be the worst day of my life.
This time, it’s an aqua-blue trollkin who enters the barn, with blue hair pulled up in a sloppy ponytail. He stops dead when he sees me.
Great. All chances of my being able to get out of this alive have flown out the window.
Han’zir
A human.
So that’s who ate all the eggs, is it? This little feather of a thing? She’s so small and thin, I could pick her up with one finger.
“Look what you found,” I tell Drazak, slapping him on the back. “Where was she?”
“Up in the loft,” he answers, never taking his eyes off of her. She’s glancing from side to side like a trapped deer. “Hiding in the hay.”
“Huh. How about that.” I lean over his shoulder and peer down at the little human. Her clothes are ratty and her skin is dirty and bruised, like she’s been through hell. Her sleeve is torn and under it is a large, bright red gash. Her messy hair is an ashy brown, and her hazel eyes are huge and bright.
I wonder where she came from and why she’s here now.
“What should we do with her?” I ask, leaving my orc’s side to circle around her. The woman shrinks back from me, her big eyes going as round as a rabbit’s before it runs.
“We turn her in, of course,” Drazak says without a second thought. “They’ll probably toss her in prison and torture her, or maybe put her in the stocks and cut off her hands...”
That all sounds very unpleasant for such an innocent creature as this one. I arch an eyebrow at him.
“This little human?” I ask. Her wary eye follows me as I finish my circle, never turning her back to me. “What has she done to deserve getting her hands cut off?”
Drazak snorts as if it’s the stupidest question of all time. “She’s a part of all this nonsense. Look.” He flicks the military badge on her chest, and the little thing skitters backwards. “Soldier. Who knows how many of our kind she’s killed out there?”
“Conscripted,” I point out. “Just like we almost were. Look at her clothes. This isn’t what a real soldier wears.” Only a few of us were spared from conscription, and growing food for soldiers’ rations was an essential enough job that we made it out. Many of our trollkin brothers and sisters have not been so lucky. “I don’t think she would hurt a fly, Drazak.”
“So what?” He crosses his arms and glares at me. “She’s the enemy, Han. It’s not up to us to decide what to do with her. We turn her in, let the authorities take care of it, and most importantly, keep our noses clean.”
We don’t notice until it’s too late that the woman has been creeping toward the wall, where she suddenly snatches a rake. Drazak jumps into action, and I’m certain she’s going to try to use the damn thing as a weapon, pointless as that would be. But nobody ever said humans were bright.
Before Drazak can grab her, she scurries away and starts raking the ground like her life depends on it. He pauses as she frantically gathers up stray straws of hay and chicken droppings, too baffled by what she’s doing to stop her. We both stare as she makes a little pile, then reaches for a pan off the wall and scoops it all in. Carrying the pan, she heads for the door, but I block her way. I can’t have her running off now, not when she’s acting in such a curious manner.
With a look of annoyance, she gestures for me to step to one side.
“Stop her,” Drazak snaps at me, but instead of doing what he asks—he should know better by now than to try to boss me around—I step out of the way and let her past. With a nod of appreciation, she dumps the pan out with the rest of the animal debris. Then she hurries back and picks up the rake again.
“What is she doing?” Drazak asks, his mouth slightly ajar.
“Helping, I think.” I study her as she rakes up more filth. “Fascinating behavior, isn’t it?”
She pauses in her raking, then leans the handle on the wall and climbs up the ladder to the hay loft. I follow along, hands tucked behind my back, interested to find out what this odd little creature will do next.
She lies down in the hay and, very dramatically, pretends to snore. It’s... adorable.
