Page 11 of The Goddesses' Gifts

“Fine, just don’t be a creep.” I sighed miserably and made just enough room for him to sit. He gave me a flat look. I gave it back to him. “These are clean linens. Wear clean clothes next time if you want to lay down.” Just because I was accustomed to sleeping on the ground didn’t mean I wanted dirt in bed when I had access to one.

He rolled his eyes and tugged the blanket off before settling his weight beside me. It took him a few moments to find a way to sit comfortably and reach my hips. Once situated, the warm pull of his current rolled across my abdomen.

We sat there in silence, the scent of earthy magic filling the room. I played with my light. Conjuring it and extinguishing it, to the apparent annoyance of my new friend. His scowl deepened with every flash. It also just so happened to give me a clear view of the dagger that rode on his hip. The sheath appeared in good condition and likely hugged the blade well enough I couldn’t just slip it out un-noticed. I had to try, though it would have to wait until he was about to leave.

Before long, I had difficulty keeping my eyes open, so I gave up on my game of irritate-the-elf. I was so warm and comfortable after who knows how long in the cold, damp dark. It was easy to forget to be on my guard, so I didn’t realize the soldier was leaning over me until his tongue was in my mouth. Startled into full consciousness, I bit down on the offending appendage and made a fumbling grab for the knife while he screamed in my face. He pulled away, leaving a bloody chunk of flesh in my mouth. I sat up and spat it in, what I hoped was, his face. There was a commotion of shuffling and unintelligible speech before the door slammed shut and locked.

I brought my light back with a big, bloody grin and examined the simple, serviceable knife I’d slipped under my thigh during the commotion. The tongueless elf probably wouldn’t notice its absence until after tending to his wound, so finding a good hiding spot was imperative. It would be tricky, though, in such sparse surroundings.

It wasn’t until I leapt out of bed to search for a hiding place that I noticed the mess he’d left behind. Blood soaked my tunic front, and large spatters trailed all the way to the door, though there was no sign of the tongue itself. I cursed and pulled the shirt off. It would be stupid to accidentally mark a hiding place with blood.

I rinsed the tunic and then used it as a washcloth to clean my face, chest, and arms. Even as a sponge bath the water was too cold for me. I was shivering by the time I got to actually search for a hiding place. Under the straw filled mattress was too obvious, same for the pillow. There were no nooks or cracks in the stone. Then it came to me. I got down on the cold floor and shimmied under the bed. My light lasted just long enough to let me jam it, halfway to the hilt, into the sturdy leg, hidden by the rest of the bed frame. They’d have to crawl under and look to find it.

I fumbled blind to pull the bloodied linens off the bed and find where I’d dropped the tunic by the drain. I rinsed it again before wringing it out and draping it over the footboard. Then I found my blanket and wrapped it around my shivering body before falling into the bare bed. The realization that someone else would be coming to deal with me soon started to settle heavy in my belly. No doubt the violence would draw Dulanzo’s attention.

In the silence, I thought furiously about what I ought to do. It was too soon to attempt escape. Lhoris wouldn’t be near enough to aid me, and I needed one more day of rest, at least. But should I take Zelfek’s advice seriously and just let Dulanzo do as he pleased? It wouldn’t be the first time I’d let a villain rut me as a means to an end, but this wasn’t quite the same thing. Back then I was the wolf in sheep’s clothing. I held all the cards and … it had been fun, honestly. But Dulanzo wanted the wolf. I couldn’t afford a setback in my recovery. Presenting him with the sheep instead might be the only practical solution. Would he injure me more or less?

Damn it, that would have been the right question to ask Zelfek yesterday.

I laid there, bundled up in the blanket and breathed. And waited.

And waited.

Keys jangled in the corridor, and I held my breath when the door opened. A red light shot to the ceiling and Dulanzo stepped into the room. They must have summoned him from his bedchamber. He was wearing dark, snug-fitting breeches and a gray lace-up cotton shirt, though his hair was still in an immaculate braid. There was an immaculately coiled bundle of rope in his hands and a gleeful smile on his face.

I swallowed hard but didn’t offer him more than a lethargic blink.

“You like to bite?” he asked.

“Not particularly,” I murmured. “But one shouldn’t put body parts that one wishes to keep in an unconscious person’s mouth.”

“Poor Avry,” Dulanzo shook his head, brows pinched in a mockery of empathy. “He drowned in his own blood, you know. He was just trying to help your baby.” He clucked his tongue at me.

“Last I checked that didn’t require his tongue in my mouth,” I grumbled. But this was good news. They probably wouldn’t realize he was missing a knife. “I thought I was supposed to be your pet, not Avry’s.”

“Get up,” Dulanzo demanded with a grin.

So I did, bringing the blanket with me. The stone floor felt colder than usual under my bare feet.

“Lose the blanket.”

It slid off my shoulders and the chill made my skin tighten to goosebump while I tossed the blanket on to the bed. I couldn’t resist crossing my arms and curling in against the cold.

His eyes dragged over my exposed flesh. “Do you think you can buy mercy with willingness?”

“No,” I shook my head and met his eyes for a pair of heartbeats before lowering them again. “But it’s been made abundantly clear that I’m not getting out of this room. Why waste energy I don’t have in fighting?”

Dulanzo sneered at me. “Weak,” he spat.

“No, just practical.” I shook my head and sighed, already regretting the words I was about to speak. “I’m all yours, Dulanzo.”

He frowned and returned to the door, opening it to murmur to someone in the hallway.

Had that guard been there earlier? I couldn’t recall hearing anyone before now. Surely they wouldn’t waste the energy to generate silence while just standing guard.

Dulanzo’s frown was still in place when he turned back to me. “Take the rest of your clothes off, then. Let me see what’s mine,” Dulanzo said in a concerningly neutral tone. Was he guarding his reactions?

I undid my pants buttons and slid them down my thighs, kicking them aside, careful to avoid any of Avry’s blood. Dulanzo circled around me, his eyes scorching up and down my form. I stared into the middle distance and tried to look bored. “I suppose you’re … adequate,” he grumbled.

---