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Does she care about me? Why is she helping me? Why did she save my life?
My body is stiff with worry and paranoia when I take the bowl.
There is no telling whether or not I can trust her. She might be lying to me. I have no memories to corroborate anything she has said.
She might have been the one who wounded me, although how she would have gotten that right is beyond me.
She could even be trying to poison me now!
The food smells decadent to my hungry mouth and stomach, but I shake my head and hand the bowl back to her.
She looks at me with narrowed eyes.
“You should eat. It will help get your strength back up.” Her tone of voice is clipped. She clearly isn’t very happy that I am refusing her food.
Is that because she is trying to poison me?
“Who are you?” I ask her again. “And how can you live like this? And where am I, anyway?”
She throws her head back and laughs.
“You make it sound like I live in a ditch. You should see the human settlements. They’re not nearly as nice as this place. Although scratch that, there is no way I’m taking you close to the human settlement.”
“It isn’t exactly conducive to an easy life,” I reply as I eye the large pot on the hearth.
I am not sure it would be possible for a human woman to lift that pot. But surely she must be able to, both to clean out the hearth and to clean out the pot.
“Who said life would be easy?” she snaps.
She sets the bowl of food, a bowl of soup, I think, on the ground and starts to pace up and down in the small space.
“Listen, I didn’t even want to bring you here. Why are you insulting this place? I like it fine, thank you very much.”
“I’m sorry. But I need to know who you are. Maybe if I know who you are, I’d finally know what I need to do. Because if I don’t find out, I think I’m going to go crazy.”
Her eyes darken, and she lifts a hand, tugging the lobe of her left ear and biting her lip.
She is clearly uncertain about telling me who she is.
“Maybe,” I venture quietly. “If I know who you are, my memory will come back.”
6
AMARA
Ibite my lip as I consider how much to tell the orc.
He seems genuinely confused about where he is and who he is. He doesn’t seem to know much about himself beyond his own name.
But it could all be a ploy. It could be a ruse to get me to open up about myself and the other humans close by. He could just be doing this to form a plan of attack on us.
I may not be close to the people in the settlement, but I don’t want to put their lives at risk, either.
I may run with the wolves, but I’m not completely feral.
There is a look of stubborn consternation in the orc’s – Kian’s – eyes, and I sigh to myself.
He isn’t going to let this go,I tell myself. I turn to grab one of the two chairs in my house and drag it to the side of the bed.
