He stands and sighs. He grabs a set of pants and a top the dressmaker made me, hanging on a bar by the edge of the room and throws them to me.
“They’re keepsakes from those I’ve killed.”
I stare dumbfounded at the monster in my room. His room. His. I am nothing here. Nothing but property.
I quickly pull the clothing over my body but remain curled up in the corner. I stare down at my hands, thoughts empty. Numb.
I knew he was a warrior. Knew he had killed.Many. He’s killed many. But to hear him state it so plainly, to know he keeps pieces of those people in this room, here with me—I cannot even fathom it.
One strange thought pops into my mind, and I voice it before thinking. “What will you keep of me?” I whisper
I don’t know if he reacts because I’m not brave enough to look at his face. He doesn’t answer. I can feel the silence like a living thing, pulsing around us.
The answer is probably the coin I now keep under the pillow.
“I hope it never comes to that.” His voice is hollow.
Does he regret his kills? Or are they trophies to him?
“Please take the bed,” he says. “I will sleep on the floor.”
I sniff. “I don’t really intend to move right now.”
He huffs a bitter laugh. “I would leave you alone if I could.”
“Where do you go?”
He just told me he keeps random items that belonged to the people he kills. I don’t know how I conjure the bravery to keep asking questions.
I suppose, at least he has shown he does not have a desire to kill me.
Yet.
He shakes his head. “Not far from where you went today. You’re lucky it was me who found you first.”
I swallow.
“If I need to, I’ll remain here every night. Is that what you want?”
I shake my head quickly.
“Then, stop exploring on your own.” He stands suddenly. “Actually, let’s do a quick lesson. Since you’re not intent on sleeping yet.”
I swallow, unsure what he means. He rummages through one of the bins and comes out with a small white stone. Then, he squats down on the ground and begins drawing.
I lean forward to get a better view.
First, he draws a small circle. Then a few others without much of a pattern. Then, a large circle around all of it followed by an X on the outside of that. “This is the cascade,” he points to the first circle. “This is the sanctuary. And this is our community center.” He points to one circle then the next.
“And the big circle?”
“The drakai pit.” His words send flashes of claws and teeth through my mind. The massive void.
I frown. “It goes all the way around?—”
“The whole fortress, yes. You cannot get out of this mountain without passing over or through it.” He draws one line through the large circle. “There is one—one—walkway over it. It is constantly guarded by three Drak warriors. It is never unattended.”
I swallow.
