Page 6 of Keeping the Human's Heart

“She wants to sleep here,” I call down to Drazak. The woman’s eyes open, and she curls up tighter in the hay, laying her claim on it.

“What?” He frowns deeply. “She can’t do that. Not in my barn. She’s human.”

I drop down the ladder, and she follows me. Once on the ground she rakes again, gesturing at it and then at us, trying her hardest to communicate. The little human is offering a trade.

“I think she wants to work.” I tilt my head. “She’ll do chores if we let her sleep here.”

The girl claps her hands in front of her and blinks the widest, saddest, sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. For a moment, I’m enraptured by them.

“No,” hisses Drazak. “No way.”

“Aww, why not?” I lean forward, supporting my hands on my knees while I inspect her closely. The human shrinks back. “You said you wanted a dog, didn’t you?”

“You can’t be serious.” He lets out a moan of anguish and drags his palm down his face, like he’s trying to rub the frustration out of his skin.

“When am I not serious?” I ask cheekily. “She can take care of the chickens. Keep away those pesky coyotes.”

“We can’t be harboring a human!” Drazak lets out an agitated breath. “Plain and simple. What if we got caught?”

I stand back up. “Well, what if we’re not caught? Then we get this cute human pet who sleeps in a barn like a goat.”

Drazak shakes his head in disbelief. “Cute?”

I gesture at her. “You know. Like a baby fawn. Stupid, weak, endearing.” His eyes follow my hand, taking in the demure creature in front of us. “You’re considering this,” I say, taunting. “You don’t want that sweet little neck of hers snapped in half at the gallows, do you?”

With one last displeased snarl, Drazak turns on his heel and stomps out of the barn. I know then that I’ve won.

I grin down at the human and point at the ladder. “All right,” I tell her. “You can stay there.” I mime sleeping. “And in exchange, you’ll do whatever I tell you. Okay?” I mime sweeping again.

She nods eagerly, the sides of her big mouth pulling up in a smile. It sends a very strange tingle down my spine.

I lead her over to the ladder, and she comes along eagerly behind me. “You go to bed now,” I tell her, gesturing at the loft. She nods agreeably and clambers up, disappearing into the hay.

We may have just found ourselves a very good dog.

Esme

They’re letting me stay.

The two big trollkin are letting me stay in exchange for... well, I’m not sure. I can’t sweep the barn floor forever, but there are plenty of other things I can do if they let me. I can chop wood, cook meals, clean, and everything else I did around the master’s home. I’m good at making myself useful, because being useful is how you stay out of harm’s way. Even if my wound hasn’t healed yet, I can still work.

When the teal-blue troll returns the next morning to summon me—the one with the friendly, curious eyes—I follow him out of the barn into the fields. He tells me important-sounding things that I can’t understand while we pass down rows of vegetables. Leaves slide through his fingers as we walk by, and I get the sense just by watching him that he’s connected to these plants, and they reach out to him as if they know him.

He leads me all the way back to the clay house on the far other end of the farm, with its strapped leather roof. It’s all very strange to me, this place, how foreign it is while also feeling like somewhere I’ve been before.

We stop behind the house near what looks like a well. The huge trollkin picks up a bucket, then cranks a handle. Sliding the bucket in the hooks, he gestures for me to take over. So I do, cranking and cranking until the bucket reaches the bottom of the well. I fill it, then crank some more to bring it back up to the top. The troll gives a nod of approval and urges me to follow him.

I take the bucket and do as he says, because this is my ticket out of here. If I can convince these guys to trust me, I can sneak out food a little at a time and build up what supplies I might need to make a getaway. Perhaps if I go back the way I came and head south, maybe I could return to the King’s lands and find somewhere safe to hide, somewhere I won’t be turned in for desertion. Maybe by then the war will be over, and we’ll have either won or lost.

The troll points me to a big trough and mimes dumping the water in, so I obey. Then he leads me back to the well.

Again and again, I fill the bucket and empty it into the tub while the troll watches me. His eyes are a deep orange, almost red, and his tusks are much larger than the orc’s. I wonder about them, these two strange trollkin living out here, working the land the way humans do.

The gash in my arm tears open and leaks as I crank and crank, but I need to show him I can do this, that I can be useful. Then maybe they’ll let me sleep in the barn and eat their leftovers until I’m well enough that I can leave.

When the big tub is nearly full, the troll finally stops me, shooing off the last bucket of water. I fall to my knees, not realizing how much my muscles ached until right now. I’ve been operating off of pure rush and now it’s catching up to me. The troll isn’t paying attention as he works on lighting some logs under the iron tub. Eventually the kindling catches, and a small fire starts.

The door to the house flies open, and the big orc stomps out. When he sees me, his eyes narrow like I’m a farm animal he found defecating on his floor. Then his gaze travels down to where I’m clutching my arm.

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