Page 44 of The Orc's Captive Bride
‘I don’t understand.”
“Only the gods can open a portal.”
“The gods?” She gave him a dazed look. “Why would they bring me here?”
He gave a half shrug. “There is always a reason.”
“Does that mean you don’t know or that you aren’t saying?”
Amusement flickered across his face.
“Does it matter?”
“Will whoever brought me here send me home again?”
He studied her face for a moment.
“Is that truly what you want?”
Of course it was. Wasn’t it? She couldn’t help glancing towards the door where Khorrek stood guard, silent and watchful.
“Could you help me to do so?” she asked, avoiding the question.
“I cannot. The king’s will is absolute in Kel’Vara.”
“But?”
Because there was a ‘but.’ She could hear it in his voice.
Vorlag also glanced towards the door where Khorrek stood.
“But,” the old priest said carefully, “I can help you with this translation. Ensure you have the resources you need. The knowledge.” He paused. “And perhaps, in doing so, we might discover things the High King does not expect.”
It wasn’t a promise. Wasn’t even really hope.
But it was something.
“Then let’s get started.”
The work quickly consumed her. Within an hour, she had filled pages with notes, sketches, and theories about phonetic values and grammatical structures.
Vorlag proved to be exactly what he’d claimed—an advisor. He brought reference materials, answered questions about the cultural context of the Five Kingdoms, and provided insight into magical theory that made her head spin.
But he never directed her work. Never told her what to find.
He just… helped.
“This symbol here.” She pointed to the recurring character she’d noticed the previous evening. “It appears at the start of most sections. I thought it might be a header marker, but the placement is inconsistent.”
He leaned closer, squinting at the page. “May I?”
She nodded, and he touched the symbol with one gnarled finger, then frowned.
“What is it?”
“It’s older than I expected,” he murmured. “It’s a protection ward.”
“Protection from what?”
