Page 61 of Orc's Forbidden Claim

Its horns are little nubs right at the thick hairline. The nose… by all that’s ever been holy, that nose. It’s small, but a perfect duplicate of Visidion’s. It blinks then its lips curl into a smile almost immediately followed by a belch so loud it seems to echo in the room. Rosalind and Visidion chuckle but all I can do is stare with my eyes wide and my heart soaring.

“Thank you for helping get Rosalind here,” Visidion says.

“Huh? Oh, I… I didn’t do anything,” I say, not looking away. I can’t look away. This little newborn holds full sway over my attention.

“You helped,” he says, placing one hand against his chest. “And I am grateful.”

“Saylor, I’d like to introduce you to T’vori,” Rosalind says.

“What a beautiful name,” I say.

“It means ‘creator’ in your language, or close enough,” Visidion says.

“Creator,” I whisper as the baby twists and turns until Rosalind replaces it on her breast. “Uhm, I… is it…”

“A boy,” Rosalind says. “Impossible to tell at this age, don’t feel bad.”

I nod because I don’t have any words. The feelings I’m experiencing are more than anything I’ve ever had in my life. It feels like waves of emotions are crashing together in my chest that I can’t define or make sense of, but the one thing that they coalesce into is clear.

Hope. There is hope.

42

KHIARA

Hood of my cloak pulled low, I slip along the outer edge of the city. The air is heavy with an acrid smell. The crevasse that opened in the middle of the city is the source of the odor. Smoke rises from the burning lifeblood of Tajss, filling the air with its heavy scent. The very nature of the cavern that contains our home also traps the smoke and the smell. Though it rises to the ceiling, there is not enough venting for it to escape in the volume it is emitting.

Most of the people are still gathered at the Shaman’s exhortation. I am sure he is extolling the virtues of his great plan to end this world and usher in the next. Lying to my people for his gain. To keep control. Anger boils and burns in my veins as if my blood has blended with the blood of Tajss, becoming liquid fire, searing me from the inside out.

My father used to counsel Dilacs and me that we should be like the mountain. Patient and imperturbable. I was better at it then Dilacs was, but right now I’m struggling to attain the calm that comes with that mindset.

I put all my attention out. Scanning the shadows, and the alleys I pass, and remaining alert to every hint of danger. I keep one hand over the pouch at my side which contains the fungus. It will save Sek’su.

I’m doing this for a lizard. How the world has changed.

I have, effectively, betrayed my people, but in so doing, I am also on the path to saving them. Redeeming them from the shadow of the Shaman. If Dilacs had not fallen in love and found his dragoste, none of this would have happened. I would never have found my dragoste either. I can never return to life before Saylor. That was far from living, it barely qualified as existing, waiting for the end.

I reach the very edge, pressing close against a hovel. Peeking around the corner I can see the tunnel I want to exit through, but there are three guards on duty. One of them is dressed in the robes of a Maulavi which is new. The Shaman must realize he’s losing his grip on the populace. I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.

For now, it is a thing. That is all I know, but it is information, and I will get it to my Queen. She will know better than I how to make use of this knowledge. She will know if it bodes well or ill for our ultimate goal to overthrow him and reclaim her throne.

But first, I must get past them. Which is problem enough for the moment.

My legs grow numb crouching and watching. Waiting. Looking for an opportunity that doesn’t come. The three guards do not once relax their vigilance. I could try one of the other exits to the city, but it won’t do any good. I am certain that every exit is being guarded like this.

My stomach grumbles with hunger. I cannot continue to sit here. Sek’su will not survive if I don’t get this medicine back to him. The stupid lizard healers may think they’ve stopped the poison, but I know they are wrong. I’ve seen it before. Soon he will awaken and say he feels better. He’ll be alert and will seem like he is, but that will pass. He will collapse again, and the poison will then fill his heart and lungs, and he will die.

There has to be another way. I look around thinking. Finally, a possibility comes. I stand, but my legs have gone to sleep, making it difficult to move quietly. I rub my thighs, encouraging blood to return, keeping one eye on the guards. Feeling comes in painfully but I’m able to slip away from their searching eyes.

The streets remain empty. The Shaman must be on a roll, keeping the Urr’ki convinced that doom is the only way forward. I don’t know how long I have before he will be done, and the people will return to the ruin of their lives. The one thing I do know is, I need to be gone before that happens.

Slipping into a building that was once a smithy, but is now a hovel at best, I pause to let my eyes adjust to the low light. As I hoped, there are bits and pieces left behind that haven’t been scavenged as of yet.

I quickly dig through the clutter. Tajss provide, please. My one idea to escape without trying to fight three guards hinges on finding what I need. Broken tools, remnants of weapons, shards of steel and iron, but not the one thing I need.

Growling with anger, I toss aside the broken hilt of a sword and move to the forge. There is a lump in the cold ash. I grab the poker and stir the ashes and there it is. One anyway. I pluck it out and shake the ash away.

The claws fit onto my hand but the strap that binds them is missing. The points are dull but should still be workable, though they won’t be easy to use. I need another one for my other hand. Frowning, I dig around. The other part of the set should be here somewhere. Unless someone else already found it.

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