Nero slithers to a stop at the base of the mountains, at the entrance of the pass, and I slide off his back, my legs numb from so much riding. When I stumble and nearly fall, his arms are there to catch me, making sure I’m okay, his fingers lingering until he releases me.
“Thank you,” I murmur, stomping some feeling back into my feet.
“Of course,parum anguis,” he replies.
When he doesn’t reach out for me again, I smile and thread my fingers with his. His hands are twice as large as mine, dwarfing them, but the cool warmth his provides makes me want to be wrapped in his coils again.
Bracken straightens, his eyes hard, and somehow, I notice the look first. Zetros is busy stretching and drinking some of the saltwater he collected in a canteen. Grimus is digging through his pack for something. Nero is so focused on me, he’s not looking anywhere else, but Bracken? He’s sniffing the air.
I see the moment his eyes widen. “Protect her,” he hisses.
There are no questions, no demand to know what’s wrong. One moment, they are all doing their own thing, and the next, I find myself in the center of them. Nero keeps hold of me, his eyes sharp, his coils circling our little group as an extra form of protection. I don’t like that he’ll be the first one in danger should something attack, but he seems intent on being there. Bracken, Zetros, and Grimus are around me a moment later, their bodies blocking me in like a wall.
The orcs appear seconds later…or what I am guessing are orcs, since Grim mentioned them.
At first, there’s only one. He steps into the low light, his skin green, even in the shadows. He’s wearing armor over impressive muscles. Large teeth sprout from his bottom lip and curl over his top. His hair is braided down his spine, and he’s carrying a large club. The moment he steps out, more follow, until we’re surrounded by orcs.
Grimus shoulders Bracken. “Do your thing, fey.”
I see the panic on Bracken’s face, and suddenly, I know he lied about having a deal with the orcs. I can’t blame him, but I’m still annoyed that he got us into this position with no way out.
“About that…” He has a shit-eating grin on his face when he looks at Grimus.
Grimus’ eyes flare in anger, but he doesn’t speak of it right now. “You better have a plan.”
We’re surrounded by orcs, at least a dozen of them, and they are all large in nature. Though our group is growing, I don’t think we can fight them all, but I don’t underestimate my monsters. I understand, however, that if we kill them, the orc king will certainly never let us pass peacefully. Even if they are monsters, that seems obvious, especially after the stories Grim told me last night to help me fall asleep. He fears the orc warriors, but the king? Grimus spoke of him in hushed, respectful tones, and that is enough to make me afraid.
Bracken steps forward, his arms open in placation. “Ballow, friend, it’s been a long time.” The orc Bracken addresses is one of the bigger ones. He’s wearing a necklace made of bones—they look human. “Think you could pull some strings and get us through?”
“The last time I saw you,” Ballow responds, “you were running away after insulting my bride.”
“I didn’t know she was your bride,” Bracken defends. “I thought she was your brother.”
Ballow snarls and goes to step forward, but Grimus stomps his hoof, making the orc pause.
“Now’s a good time to do something,” Grimus rumbles at Bracken.
Bracken laughs, and without missing a beat, shoves Grimus forward, sending the orcs into defense mode. They swarm, and Grimus snarls at Bracken.
“This was your plan?” he snarls. “Throw me at them?”
Bracken narrowly avoids the club that nearly knocks him out. “I didn’t think that far ahead, okay?”
“Don’t hurt them!” I exclaim when Nero rises up, prepared to strike. “Lift me.”
Nero does so without question. His strong arms circle my thighs, and he lifts me high so that all the orcs can see. Too many of them blink in confusion, as if they hadn’t noticed me in the center. My monsters did a good job of protecting me.
“We request an audience with the orc king,” I say, making sure they are all looking at me, even though I’m making this up as I go.
Ballow steps forward, his face twisted in a snarl. “And who are you to request such an audience?”
“I am the hunt.” I don’t know how much weight it will carry, but when their mouths go slack, I can only assume it carries something. I can imagine that no hunt has made it this far, and here I am with a group of monsters, seeking an audience with their king for safe passage. I thought Bracken would be the one to do it, but it looks like it’ll be up to me.
“The hunts never make it this far,” Ballow argues, his eyes narrowed.
“And yet here I am.” My words are full of confidence, not because they need to be but because I’m putting on a show. If I appear strong, like I made it here because of that strength, perhaps it’ll go a long way with the orcs. “Do you agree to an audience?”
Ballow glances at the others. “Fine. Let the king disembowel you.” He glares at Bracken. “Perhaps he’ll give me the pleasure of taking care of the fey myself.”
