Page 107 of Wrath of the Fae Queen
My eyes scan over them, then their cell. Their skin is clean, like they have regular opportunities for a bath, though orcs have water magic and could easily use it to wash. There are no signs of starvation or torture on their bodies; all their scars are old. Most telling are the subtle luxuries of their cell. It appears to be three times the size of my own, with proper pallet beds, furs and cushions.Two are playing a card game, and there is also evidence of dice and a board with stones.
A puka draws our attention as it bursts through the bars on the window, running down the wall and into the lap of the whittling orc. It wears a vest with a little pack sewn into it, and the men pull out the biscuits and small cakes smuggled into it. Huge smiles split their faces as they dig into them.
This is Sasha’s work.She is taking care of these orcs.
Her kindness and compassion for her people knows no bounds.
I gawk at them in confusion for a long time as they laugh and make jokes about her needing to send in a creature large enough to carry a bottle of spirits to them. Then I rememberthe sorrowful comment she made about Titania locking up her bodyguards and closest friends in the dungeons. The heartache and guilt that plagues her while she lives in luxury and they are imprisoned.
One orc glances at me and rolls his eyes. “Why is it that Spring fae always look at us like we are about to go mad and tear their throats out with our teeth for the sheer fun of it?”
Another shrugs. “A few rogue tribes decide to lose their shit and drink the blood of high fae during the wars, and now everyone thinks we orcs are mindless beasts.”
“Those fucking tribes were doing that sort of shit before the war,” grumbles the third, who hadn’t spoken yet. “They just got so much worse when their leashes were removed.”
“Do you want a biscuit?” The orc still hovering near the bars holds one out through a gap. I cannot decide if he is being friendly or trying to lure me closer.
Before I can reply, bangs and crashes echo down the hall as a series of gates are opened, then slammed shut. The orcs hide their cookies behind their backs like a bunch of children not wanting their sneaky prize confiscated. I finally manage to stand. I will face whatever is coming for me on my feet.
Jasper and Rainier materialize around the corner with two women flanking them. When Jasper puts his key into the lock on my cell, the orcs pull out their biscuits again and continue munching.
“Are you sure you don’t want the biscuit?” that same orc asks again. “What about you, Jasper? Rainier? Fancy some sugar?”
Jasper scans my body up and down, cataloging my every injury. That steely blue gaze flicks to the orcs, then back to me. “You have made friends. Good.”
Rainier’s thick brow furrows as I sway on my feet. He places his hands on my shoulders to steady me. “How are you feeling?”
“Like an entire herd of bovine trampled me,” I reply.
“There isn’t much time.” Jasper motions for me to sit on the pallet, then squats before me so our eyes are level. “I have brought healers, including Rainier, who are going to do their best to rapidly restore you to health, and give you a potion to replenish your magic. Keep the fact that you have your powers back hidden, unless you absolutely need to use them. It will destroy my cover, since I am meant to poison you again, but that is a sacrifice I am willing to make to ensure your safety.”
He lets the unspoken hang between us: if I use my magic, he will have no way of knowing that he has been discovered until they attack him.
Rainier runs a hand through his white hair as he glances at the two women hovering behind him. “I am not as skilled as my mother, but better than most. Unfortunately, it is difficult to find loyal healers in the palace right now.”
Jasper holds out a vial and I gulp down the bitter potion. My reservoir of magic winks back into existence, the block upon it dissipating, but it is still near empty. My bond with Aldrin flares bright. A maelstrom of panic and angst slams right into me, like stepping out into a blizzard. Warmth suddenly wraps around me as his soul tugs mine close. I sigh with contentment down the bond.
Dear heart, did they hurt you? Have they?—
He is unable to speak the words, but brutal images of torture flash into my mind anyway. A violent shiver runs down his spine and ghosts over mine.
No. No, they haven’t touched me…I wince as pain radiates through his forearm from a jarring blow, then realize his sword is held before him, blocking the downward swing of another blade. There is a crush of fae all around him, screaming and fighting, drenched in blood.Aldrin! Are you in the middle of another battle?
It never ended,he grunts, flaring magic into his weapon to slice it clean through the armor and flesh of the enemy’s belly.Gods. I’m going to do everything I can to get you out of there. I am so sorry I failed to protect you. To anticipate this.His stomach twists and I can’t bear it.
How could we have known she could do this? Do not blame yourself and do not worry for me when you are in the middle of a literal fight for your life!I practically shriek back at him.
We are retreating,he admits.And none of these commoners are a match for me.He cuts down another with ease and I almost believe him.
A sharp sting in my hand pulls me back to my physical body, followed by a radiating heat so intense it is almost painful. Jasper’s hand glows with white light where it covers mine as he transfers his raw power into me.
“Won’t—won’t you need it?” I gasp.
“Don’t you worry about me. Besides, the healers need to draw on your magic just as much as theirs, so you need it more than I do.” Jasper stands. It looks like he wants to say so much more, but he merely gives me a curt nod, then turns to the orcs. “Is there anything you boys need?”
“A stroll through the gardens would be nice,” one snickers.
“How about some of those hallucinogenic mushrooms your nymphs love to smoke? I’m fucking bored.” The one standing at the bars slaps Jasper on the shoulder, laughing.
