THE NEXT MORNING, I REPORT to Lady Myren’s house once again.
Bazur drops me off with a grunt, saying he will be back again to collect me in the evening before stomping off in the snow. I sigh and try my best to put on a smile as I walk through the front door of Lady Myren’s home.
There is a buzz of chatter as I make my way inside, but all conversations cease when the door clicks shut behind me. Five other women from town are here. A few are around the same age as Myren, and the pregnant redhead from yesterday is closer to my age.
“Good morning,” I manage to say in a small voice. Lady Myren nods at me, turning back to her conversation with one of the women at the fireplace. She stirs something in a heavy metal kettle, the scent of peppermint and honey dancing in the air.
“Sit next to me, Kaethe.”
I look over to see the pregnant woman patting the bench next to her. I smile gratefully, removing my cloak and settling in beside her.
“I remember being new. It’s a small village, people like to talk, but their curiosity will wear off soon enough.”
Her blue eyes sparkle and her nose crinkles when she smiles.
“Thank you…” I trail off and she smiles even wider, a soft flush staining her cheeks.
“Oh goodness, where are my manners? My name is Jessica, I live next to the butcher’s.” She giggles softly. “Well, my mate is the butcher so that’s why I live there. It’s convenient for him. I used to help him in the shop but after about the third month I couldn’t stand the smell of raw meat.”
Her pale complexion begins to turn a little green, and she covers her mouth as if in danger of throwing up just thinking about it.
She said mate, not husband. That means she is with an orc. Of her own choosing? I have no reason to believe otherwise but still—I file this information away. Perhaps it will be helpful to me in the future.
“How long have you been with your mate?” I ask, trying to subtly gauge her age. Jessica has an openness about her that makes me believe I’ll finally learn some information about this place.
“Hmm…five years now? I came here when I was twenty. Pardak’s family took me in and well…one thing led to another as you can see.” She rubs her swollen stomach, love shining in her eyes.
My heart pangs. I never gave much thought to children and family. I was a late bloomer having been shipped off to the academy at sixteen. Sure, there were men and males in my classes, but I never paid them much mind. And they never paid much attention to me either. We were all so absorbed in our studies that by the time I left at twenty-three I felt behind other people my age and confused when it came to relationships.
Secretly, a small part of me always thought it was too late for me. Foolish, I know. I’m young with plenty of years ahead of me to find someone and settle down with. But seeing Jessica caress her stomach makes me long for that sort of connection.
But I won’t be finding it in this village.
Lady Myren brings over the hot liquid from the stove and instructs us on how to fill up the jars. The base of Frost Cough tonic is peppermint and honey, like I smelled earlier. I also smell a dash of ginger root as well. All good for soothing sore throats.
Jessica works beside me, carefully spooning the hot concoction into the labeled containers.
“Did your family come with you?” I ask and Jessica looks at me. A sad expression colors her features.
“Oh no, it was just me.” She doesn’t say anymore, and I don’t push. I understand too well that far off look in her eyes. I’ve glimpsed it in the mirror a hundred times.
We continue working in silence, but I notice Jessica begins to slow at her task. Her hand isn’t as steady and pouring spoonfuls of the elixir becomes a greater effort. Lady Myren notes it too, her eyes always watching us.
“Was there anyone else with you when you came here?” I ask Jessica, lowering my voice. A yawn sneaks up on her and she tries covering it with her hand.
“What do you mean?”
“When you were brought to this village, were any other humans with you? Do you know if they go somewhere else?” Jessica and I are off to the far side of the work bench. Hopefully no one else can overhear our conversation. I know I’m getting ahead of myself but I’m desperate for a lead.
“No, I was found alone. Usually—”
“Jessica,” Lady Myren’s voice interrupts. She walks over to us, throwing me a stern look. “I think it’s best you head home, before you fall asleep and burn yourself with the liquid.”
Jessica nods her head, yawning again, before rising to her feet.
“Yes, being this far along I hardly have any energy anymore.” Jessica smiles down at me. “It was wonderful to meet you, Kaethe. I hope we will get the chance to chat again.”
I smile and tell her I would like that. She quickly retrieves her cloak from the door and heads into the late morning sun. Lady Myren’s eyes pin me to my seat from across the room. A few of the other women cast curious looks at me but quickly turn back to their work.
“You are very inquisitive, Kaethe.” Her lips are pinched into a thin line, and I try my best to smile but can feel how brittle it is.
“My teachers at the academy said the same thing. It’s what advanced my studies.”
“But not here,” Lady Myren says, adding, “in this village inquisitiveness can be seen as nosiness.”
Our eyes lock and my body goes rigid. Godsdamn me I was too obvious with my questions. I overreached and aroused suspicion, which is going to make my life ten times harder than it already is. Lady Myren looks ready to say something else when the front door slams open.
I let out a sigh of relief, but it is short-lived when I hear Lady Myren call out to the visitor.
“Mornga, it’s been a while since you graced us all with your presence.”
“I’m not here for you, Myren, I’m here to see this new human.”
My skin prickles as I look up and lock eyes with Mornga. Her red stare is unblinking, assessing and frank, the way all dark elves stare. She stomps toward me and I grow more rigid in my seat.
“So, you are the alchemist the dark elves sent us?” she asks. Her long hair drapes around her like a midnight curtain. Her pale gray dress hugs her body and accentuates her slim frame. All elves have a similar build, tall with long limbs. Orcs are as well, but they are more muscular and stout. Only humans seem to come in a wide variety of shapes and sizes.
“Yes,” I say, trying to project confidence in my tone.
“Why have you come here?” Her scarlet gaze grows more severe. Perspiration begins to form on my brow and on my palms. I can’t be so nervous, surely she can smell it. With a calming breath, I formulate my reply.
“King Arkain wanted to demonstrate how serious he is about peace between the two realms. He sent me here in the hopes that—”
“You are lying.”
Breath is stolen from my lungs, my face on fire. The women around me freeze in the middle of their work. Lady Myren’s head snaps up. I’ve been found out. Any moment now she is going to get Bazur and he is going to send me off to Vorgak for execution.
“I . . .” I try formulating some sort of response. “No, it’s true.”
“Why would your king send us his alchemist? He had to have known how treacherous the journey here is?” She raises a brow. “Unless of course he wanted you dead.”
“No, no. King Arkain sent me here to find a way for our two kingdoms to learn from each other.”
“Learn what exactly? Alchemy and healing are not high priorities for King Vorgak.”
“He sent me here to learn something specific.” It is risky to admit this, but it is the only explanation I can think of that will make unsuspecting sense. Mornga waits for me to continue and I swallow. “The king is seeking an antidote for orcs’ teeth poison. He thought I would be the best candidate to send here because I am the most familiar with it. I have been searching for a cure for him for the last few years.”
Mornga purses her lips, as if tasting my answer.
“Then he sent you on a fool’s journey. There’s no cure for it. Orc’s blood carries the antipoison but it cannot be used as an antidote. We’ve tried,” Lady Myren says quietly. Mornga looks over her shoulder and nods. Something softens her red gaze, and her mouth cracks into a wide grin as she turns back to face me.
This answer has passed her test. For now.
“Zarod said you were adorable when you blushed,” Mornga says, as if that explains it all. “You can relax. My interrogation is over, for now at least.”
I nod, turning back to my task, trying to hide the trembling in my hands.
“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you,” Mornga says from across the room, “but Bazur has zero tolerance for spies. Even ones that blush adorably.”
Just like that, I am on edge again, my stomach flipping as I nod. Mornga and Lady Myren speak to each other in orcish. It’s disheartening to know everyone here can speak it except me. With time hopefully I can persuade someone to teach me, it’s too risky to ask for that now.
Mornga and Lady Myren stop chatting, and Mornga walks over to where I sit at the workbench. She takes the seat across from me and pours some of the elixir into a labeled jar.
“So, tell me about Myrkorvin.” Mornga doesn’t ask, she demands. There is an air about her that will not be questioned.
“It has changed a lot as of late. King Arkain took Princess Elvie as his wife and mate, she’s a light elf. He found her during the Night of a Hundred Faces.” Mornga chuckles and shakes her head.
“They still do that?”
I nod. “This was the first one held in quite some time. The bridge is open between the light and the dark elves, and the two people are united once more.” We are silent for a moment before I venture a question. “How long has it been since you were last in Myrkorvin?”
“Not since I was a child.” Mornga fills another glass jar, her red eyes focused solely on her task. “My mother was a she-elf noble and my father a displaced orc soldier. They met right after the end of the Orc Wars.”
I nod, not sure what to say. Her scarlet gaze lifts to me and she smiles slightly.
“It was quite scandalous, but mating bonds can’t be denied. No matter how illogical they seem at the time. My mother had me in secret, leaving her noble house once I was born, to live a quiet life with my father on the mountain.” Emotion lights a fire in her red eyes. “Dark elves live longer than orcs, so when my father passed, she went with him. I was around sixty at that time and flitted from place to place until I found my way here.”
There is a sadness to her words. Even with an immortal life, living through the death of a parent is never easy.
“I’m sorry,” I say gently.
“Don’t be.” Mornga’s smile is wistful. “I’m happy they had each other and had such a long life together. They couldn’t live without each other. I didn’t understand it then, but I do now.”
“Because of Zarod?” I ask, though the answer is obvious.
“Yes, because of Zarod. When it is time, I will go with him to join the Mother of the Mountain.”
Just like earlier with Jessica, something pangs in my chest. That look of love and adoration is so strong I have to turn away.
“Are there any more halflings like you?” I ask. Mornga shakes her head.
“No, in my one-hundred-and-fifty of being alive I’ve never met another half-dark elf, half-orc before. Humans and orcs are the more common pairings.” My unease at that knowledge doesn’t escape Mornga’s notice.
“Kaethe, you are safe here. Humans are safe here. Whatever stories you have been told about orcs don’t apply to the ones here. Not all the stories are true.”
I so desperately want to believe that, but I can’t let myself. I’m not here to change my outlook on orcs, I’m here to find my brother.
I smile weakly at her.
“Unfortunately, I know first-hand that some of those stories are true.”
