by Megg Jensen
“I’m not an orc,” Alyna reminded him. “They distrust me as much as they distrust you.”
“You’re wrong,” Ademar said. “The orcs know you’ve been integral to all of the victories we’ve had since the xarlug attacked. They will listen to you.” He rested a hand on her arm. “Please, Alyna. Do it for—”
She shrugged his hand off. “Don’t you dare say do it for Vron.”
Ademar looked down. “I—I’m sorry. I know how hard it is.”
“No, you don’t. Tace is still alive. You have no idea how hard it is.”
A strange look flittered across Ademar’s face, but just as quickly his expression returned to normal.
Alyna huffed. “Fine, I’ll do it, but then I’m leaving. I’m not going with them to Inab. There’s nothing there for me.”
“Thank you so much.” Ademar offered her a pathetic smile. “I hope we run into each other again someday, then.”
At the moment, Alyna couldn’t think of a worse fate. Her heart and soul were yanking her away from this human and these orcs. She needed time to regroup before she could even consider purposely seeing any of them again.
“Yes,” she said. It was the best she could do. “Well then, off you go, Ademar. Find Tace. Tell her I said goodbye.”
“I will. Thank you, Alyna. For everything. You’ve been an indispensable part of the team.” Ademar ran off toward his tent.
Not liking this one bit, Alyna sought out Vitagut. She found him sitting next to a fire pit.
“What do you want me to tell them?” she asked bluntly. She was tired and would say whatever it took to earn her leave.
His dark eyes were as hard as obsidian. “What would Tace have said?”
Alyna couldn’t help but chuckle. “She would have yelled orders at them, basically giving them no choice. I’m firm, but I’m not much for ultimatums.”
“Perhaps we should do it together? Maybe between the two of us, we can convince them this is for the best.”
“Is it?” Alyna raised an eyebrow.
“I believe so. Take a look at Agitar. How long will it take them to rebuild? And do they even have the resources?”
Alyna followed his gaze to the ruined city, now a pile of rubble and ash. Very little of it was even recognizable.
“I will stand with you,” she said, attempting to keep the weariness out of her voice. “But then I am returning to my own home.”
“I understand. There are too many bad memories here. This place is cursed. I appreciate you taking the time to do this before you leave, unlike Tace and Ademar.” He rolled his eyes.
“Don’t worry about those two,” Alyna said. “They’ll be back just when you need them. They’re good at that.”
Vitagut laughed. “I just hope that when we leave, the curse stays here and doesn’t follow us. I hope never to need their help.”
“I agree. It would be best if none of us saw the other again. So let’s get on with this, shall we? Where do you want to do it?”
“I think it would be appropriate to speak next to the burial mound. We can remind them of what they’ve lost, while giving them a chance to say goodbye. I think the symbolism is perfect, don’t you?”
Alyna nodded. She, too, wanted to say goodbye one last time. Perhaps if she was standing in front of a hundred orcs, she could keep her composure better than if she was alone.
“I’ll send my orcs to round everyone up.” Vitagut tilted his head toward the silken tent on the western edge of the encampment, and his face took on a look of disgust. “How about them? Will you talk to the elves after we’ve told the orcs our intentions?”
“I will.” Alyna had to admit she was curious about them, particularly the strange human staying in the head healer’s tent. Something about him was very familiar, but Alyna couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “What would you like me to say to them?”
“Tell them to go home. We have no need of their kind in Inab.”
Alyna forced down her contempt for this orc. Many orcs held themselves above the other races. That was why she’d hidden her true race when she’d first come here to speak with Dalgron.
It didn’t take long for Vitagut’s followers to spread the word, and soon the entire encampment had gathered beside the burial mound. Alyna stood before them with Vitagut, pointedly not looking toward the mound itself. Vron was in there, the dirt covering his dead shell. She had been determined to live a life without attachment—she’d made that clear to Vron many times—but now she had to admit to herself that she’d failed. She’d loved Vron. And now that he was gone, she had no idea how to move on without him.
“Orcs of Agitar,” Vitagut intoned, “I have spoken with those who have led you so bravely through the trials you’ve endured. You’ve lost your homes, your loved ones, and your livelihood. I came here to offer myself as king, but I see you need so much more than a figurehead. You need new homes, a place where you can rebuild your lives. In Inab, we have shelter, food, and clean water. I invite all of you to travel there with me.”
Chatter started before Vitagut had even finished his little speech. The orcs looked around, as if unsure whether they should listen to this newcomer.
Vitagut nudged Alyna with his elbow.
She cleared her throat and stood up straighter, feeling quite small next to him. “Your leaders have either left or died,” she said, trying to make her voice carry. “But I urge all of you to consider Vitagut’s offer. Agitar is in rubble. Rebuilding might cost you your lives… if it is even possible. I advise you to take yourselves to Inab. Say goodbye to those you lost, and begin anew. It is the best choice you can make.”
She hoped her words resonated with them. To her they felt wooden, even though she meant them. For herself as much as anyone.
Say goodbye to those you lost, and begin anew.
She turned and walked to the burial mound, her heart heavy. She rested her palm gently on the dirt, finally allowing the feelings to flow. This would be the last time she would be near Vron. Deep inside, she knew she could never pass this way again.
A tear slipped from her eye and rolled down her cheek. This was it. The end to the story that had begun with a vision.
Suddenly, a strange warmth coursed through her veins, then hit her with the force of a thousand stones, throwing her backward to the ground.
Before her eyes, the burial mound began to crack and crumble, accompanied by the wailing of hundreds of ghostly voices.
Chapter 16
Ghrol and Kazrack cowered behind Maysant as the ghosts of the orcs they’d only just buried floated above them, their spectral forms undulating in the afternoon light. And just when Maysant thought her brother was finally acting like an adult, he lost it.
“I wish I had left with Mother,” Kazrack whined.
For once, though, she couldn’t blame him. Her heart beat fast in her chest, and her mouth went dry with fear.
But she wouldn’t cower. She stood tall, squaring her shoulders, prepared to do whatever it took to survive.
The ghosts swirled above them like wisps of smoke from a dying fire.
“What is this?” Vitagut said. He unsheathed his sword from his hip and, without a hint of fear or hesitation, struck out at the nearest ghost. His sword passed right through it.
The ghost turned slowly, its cold eyes focusing on him.
Now the huge orc showed fear. He stumbled backward, his face contorted in confusion. He dropped to his knees, his sword clattering to the ground, as the ghost crept closer. “No,” he said, barely above a whisper.
Maysant wanted to draw her bow, but her arms were frozen at her sides. She wanted to believe this was some trick of the apparitions, but she knew it was sheer terror that was paralyzing her.
The ghost descended toward Vitagut, who slipped closer to the ground until he was lying on his back, his arms on his chest. “Please don’t,” he practically blubbered. “Let me be.”
The birds had ceased to chirp; the squirrels no longer chittered. The lig
ht breeze stilled, bringing the tall prairie grass to sharp attention. Everything, it seemed, was focused on Vitagut.
“Leave this place. It no longer belongs to you,” the ghost hissed.
Then it turned, floated back up to its brethren, and coalesced with the other spirits in a misty cloud that floated away before settling above the prairie like a shroud.
Vitagut nervously wiped his damp face with a sleeve, then scrambled to his feet. He helped Alyna up. “What matter of monster was that?” he asked.
“Just another reason why we must all leave.” Alyna brushed off her dress. “There is nothing for us here.”
Vitagut rubbed his arms. “How can we leave now, knowing some malevolent force is taking over the ruins of Agitar? It was one thing to leave it to the prairie. It’s another to run away when evil has reared its ugly head once more.”
Maysant stepped closer to the two, eager to be a part of the conversation. She would be damned if she’d continue to sit on the side.
“I want to be of help,” she announced.
The orc and faun looked at her, surprised.
“What can you do?” Vitagut asked.
“I have my bow,” Maysant said, immediately realizing how ridiculous it sounded. If Vitagut’s sword didn’t leave a mark on the ghost, what could her bow do?
Surprisingly, Vitagut smiled at her. “Your bow may not be of use to us, but I will partner with anyone who wishes to stay and fight. We must rid Agitar of these ghosts. I don’t know how, but the more minds we have working on it, the sooner we will have a solid plan.”
Alyna threw her arms in the air. “What can be done? Over and over again, we are beset by supernatural beings out to destroy us.”
“And every time, you have defeated them,” Vitagut said. “That is why you are standing here today.”
“No, Tace beat them.” Alyna looked around. “And I don’t see her anywhere. Do you? The last time she left us, Vron died. My lover. Her brother. She only returned at the last moment to clean up the battle we were handily losing.”
Vitagut tapped his chin. “I thought a dragon won the last battle, not Tace.”
Alyna rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows that dragon was here because of Tace. She’s the only one who knows how to communicate with them. She carries one on her shoulder everywhere she goes.”
“Then why don’t we ask Tace for her advice?” Maysant asked.
Vitagut leaned down close to Maysant’s ear, his voice low. “This isn’t common knowledge, but Tace is gone. It may not have been of her own volition.”
Maysant threw her hand over her mouth to avoid gasping aloud. “Has anyone gone after her? Maybe I—”
“No. Ademar has followed her trail. Let him handle it. If she left alone, he will find her. If others have taken her, he will bring her back.” Vitagut patted Maysant’s shoulder as if she were a child.
Maysant backed away, pulling herself up to her full height. Granted, that wasn’t much taller than she was to begin with. Still, she wanted them to see her as an equal.
“What is the next step, then?” she asked.
“These ghosts want us gone,” Vitagut said. “They were orcs not long ago, but they belong to the world of the dead. Agitar belongs to the living.”
“Not any longer,” said Alyna. “Aren’t you the one who just asked everyone to leave?”
Vitagut glared. “As I said, that was before these specters emerged. I can’t just leave them here. What if they head east toward Inab and the other orc cities?”
“And what if they don’t? They appear to be perfectly content here.”
Maysant turned away from the argument and studied the cloud of ghosts. She had to squint to differentiate one ghost from another. The assembled orcs were doing the same—some watching with curiosity, others with fear, but most with weary resignation, even defeat. They had been through so much already.
One brave orc had apparently had enough. With a grimace, he pulled a spear from his back, aimed, cocked his arm back, and let the spear fly. Its sharp tip sailed through three ghosts before arcing downward, then passed through another four ghosts on its way to the prairie. None of them were harmed in the least.
The orc ran to retrieve his spear. As he bent to pick it up, the seven ghosts his spear had passed through floated lazily to his position. He looked up in terror.
“Vitagut!” Maysant said, slapping him on the arm.
His argument with Alyna ceased.
“What’s going on?” Vitagut demanded.
But before Maysant could answer, the ghosts enveloped the spear-throwing orc in their mist.
He collapsed to the ground, dead.
Chapter 17
Tace came to, her mind numb, as if it were clouded by smoking salvia for days. Before even opening her eyes, she quickly checked her body for signs of pain, swelling, or confinement—and was surprised to find none of these.
She lifted her eyelids only slightly, just enough to see a blurry scene unfold. A hearth burning. Sparks bursting from a recently placed wooden log. A crude wooden chair sitting in the corner unoccupied.
“I see you are awake.” The voice was calm but gruff. “You may sit up. Break your fast with me. You must be starving. I suppose I hit you harder than I meant to. For that, I apologize.”
Tace opened her eyes all the way. An orc with a long beard and a big belly bustled about what appeared to be a humble one-room cabin. There were no windows. Tace assumed they were somewhere in the forest, but truly they could be anywhere.
Tace was confused. How could a single orc so easily drag her away from the encampment? Much less this orc? He looked old, soft… less than imposing.
A deep well of shame welled inside her. She’d let herself be distracted, staring at the moon like a lost child. She’d let down her guard.
A coo sounded from the corner, and Tace turned toward the sound. Raseri was in a cage hanging from the ceiling. Tace felt a sudden mixture of anger and relief. Her dragon was not a being to be held captive—but at least she was alive.
“Why did you steal me away?” she asked, turning her attention back to her captor.
The orc laughed, the bells woven into his long beard tinkling. “Don’t you want to know my name first?”
“No.” Tace’s bluntness hung heavy in the room.
His smile faded, and his eyes darkened. “Don’t think for one moment you’re in control here. Your strength won’t help you. Nor will your skills as an assassin. You are severely outpowered.”
Tace clenched her fists at her sides.
“Nor will your attitude,” he continued. “You must leave all of that outside if you are to learn anything useful.”
The orc took a bowl from a shelf, waddled to the fire, and dropped a large iron ladle into the cauldron that hung there. He pulled the ladle out and dropped a heaping spoonful of gruel into the bowl.
Despite herself, Tace’s mouth watered and her stomach growled. She wondered how long she’d been out. Judging by her hunger, at least a day. Which meant… she could be anywhere by now. In Doros. On the island of Esta to the east. And if magic was involved, she could even be on another continent.
“Would you like some?” the orc asked, holding the bowl out to her. “I promise, it’s not poisoned.” He dipped a spoon into the bowl and shoveled some of the gruel into his mouth. “Mmm, so good. You’ll like it. I promise.” His smile returned.
Tace knew she would need strength to survive whatever he planned to do her. An empty stomach would only make her weak. She took the warm bowl and raised a spoonful to her lips. As the gruel traveled down her throat and into her belly, she found herself feeling ravenous. Within moments, the bowl was empty.
He took the bowl from her hands. “I’m going to wash it now before the remnants harden. Why don’t you sit down in the chair and read a bit while I’m gone?” Without waiting for an answer, he walked out of the small cabin and closed the door behind him.
A clank confirmed Tace’s fear. He’d barred her i
n. There was no escape.
After stretching her rubbery legs, she went to Raseri’s cage and stuck a finger in, scratching the little dragon under the chin.
“Are you okay?” she asked her friend.
Raseri nodded her scaled head.
Tace fumbled with the metal cage, but it was locked.
“I’ll look for a key.”
A small cupboard sat in the corner. She flung the doors open, only to find another bowl, two plates, two cups, and a motley assortment of spoons. If there had been even one pointy knife, she might have been able to pick the lock on Raseri’s cage.
She scanned the rest of the room. There were no decorations on the wooden walls, no indication of friends, relation, or trade. There was barely even any furniture. There was little of note… other than the rug she’d slept on while passed out.
Tace smiled.
She lifted a corner of the sisal rug. Just as she’d suspected, a trap door was hidden underneath. She reached down for the metal handle, her hand slightly trembling.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Tace jumped backward. She’d been so focused on the trap door she hadn’t even heard the old orc come back in.
“What’s down there?” she asked.
The orc’s eyes darkened. “You will learn. But not today. You are not ready.”
“Ready for what?” Tace said between gritted teeth.
The orc motioned for Tace to come closer.
With hesitant steps, she advanced until she was standing just in front of him, eye to eye.
“You are here to learn how to defeat the darkness. I will teach you.”
“You?” Tace could barely contain her laughter. “What can you teach me?”
He lifted a hand, then cuffed her left ear. “I can’t teach you anything until you drop your attitude.”
Tace shook with anger, but she held back from retaliating. “I was doing just fine on my own fighting against whatever’s threatening my orcs. I most certainly didn’t need you to sneak up on me and spirit me away to Drothu knows where.”
