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“No and yes. I’m glad you’re awake.”
“You need to rest.”
“Not yet.” He shook his head.
I place my hand on his forehead, he was burning hotter than ever, I brought his chin up and kissed him gently.
“Yeah, that’s fucking sweet and all.” A male entered the room, a dwarf, dressed in black leather and silver and looking like any low-level punk. “But we didn’t help you for nothing.”
Jaxon stood near the dirty grunge wall, another dwarf woman stood by the door holding a gun, and another woman, a blonde holding a recorder in her hands.
“He’s still recovering.” Kal stood over me like a guardian and I couldn’t love him more for it, but I told him to sit down. He himself was suffering and in need of medical attention for his leg and his exposure to the sea. I couldn’t have him try to take on these people in his condition.
“What do you want for helping me, my gracious hosts,” I replied scornfully.
“Never seen one of you up this close, most certainly not slumming it down here with us humans.” The punk kid grabbed a seat at the edge of the bed.
“Is this the part where you tell me how horrible I am for enslaving you and taking advantage of your need to have a safe place to live?”
“Yeah, actually, but since you said it.” He shrugged.
“No wonder you dwarves can’t wrestle back your realm, why don’t you speak plainly and tell me what you want.”
“What I want is my planet back. But I know you can’t give me that, so I’ll take your language instead. I want you to speak it, into that recorder, as many words as you can.”
I chuckled. “For what? Trying to impress us by creating a Rosetta Stone?”
“You know why. I’m sure your Stockholm boy there would appreciate it as well.”
I spoke only the words needed to watch his collar fall. Kal gasped and felt the space around his neck.
“Hey, I didn’t push record yet!” The blonde woman scoffed.
“I’m not giving you my language.”
The punk gestured to the woman with the gun, and Kal held out his hand as if that alone could catch the bullet.
“But I can give you something better,” I said, placing my hand over Kal’s.
The punk called his own guardian off. “Speak.”
“I can give you the high castle.”
Now he chuckled. “And this is the part where you talk about how powerful you are and how you can just let us in.”
“Yes, actually. I am the Prince of Jötun.”
“Oh, a big fish.”
“It’s true. And the man above me, the King of Jötun. I want him dead.”
“Bullshit. I can’t believe Jaxon is vouching for you. And we’re supposed to help you get your revenge cause you got outplayed by one of your own.”
“You think you’re the first, don’t you?” I said, smirking at this naïve boy. “Isn’t that how every generation thinks? That they are the first of their kind to do something great. Dwarven rebellions aren’t new. We squash them and we keep on living our lives far away from you scum. Now you can get angry all you like, but the opportunity I am presenting you is one you will never get again. What you do with it afterward is up to you.”
“How would this plan work?” He asked begrudgingly.
“I can tell you the weak points of the castle and how to disable some of its security. I can let your hacker walk right through the front door with this.” I held up Kal’s collar.
