Half my mouth quirks up. So timid.
I caress the bond with my thoughts, encouraging her as gently as I can muster.
I've been called away to a meeting. I will come to you after.
There's a pause and then a strong burst,A meeting? What meeting?
At that moment, sound from outside the cottage filters in—the sound of footfalls on soft snow crunch and buzz in my ears. Not a few moments later, another head pops into the cottage before swiftly shutting the door.
Some men incline their heads to the newcomer. I can make out his thick, gray hair and stocky build. He has the same wirystrength that most men who work in the yards have, but he has a slight haunch. Not to mention, he limps when he walks.
He takes his place next to a few other men, not acknowledging us as the door opens again. Two more men filter in.
Still, we wait in silence.
It takes several more men entering the room—to the point of bursting—for someone to finally speak. Nine slaves are gathered around me when Rodrigo returns to the center of the building.
"You all asked to meet the new slave, so we've brought him," he says in the human tongue, voice low.
A flint stone sparks, lighting the end of a well-oiled rope. They hold up the simple lantern in front of me, trying to show my face.
I am still in my human form, but I tower over them.
"You're a godsdamned tree,” one of the men says under his breath. “Are you sure you have no giant blood?”
“Yes,” I grumble.
A few others nod, but the man with gray hair narrows his eyes.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, but I still don’t understand. Why do you want to help us?" he asks.
I purse my lips.
My father taught me about duty—that's a fine answer. But it runs deeper than that. These men don't need to know the sweetness of matehood and how I long for the songs that mine and Melisa’s crystals will sing back in Enduvida.
They also do not need to know what I feel when small hands wrap around my fingers, relying on me for food and comfort. Daughters that I’ve only met recently. The innocent beings who need me to get out of here and have a better life.
These things are more precious than all the gems and gold in Enduvida, but there is something that is the culmination of all—something invaluable. I have found a purpose.
They say you tend to solve your problems by helping others solve theirs. I supposed that was much of what it was like for me to move on from one attitude to another.
Looking at the men in front of me, I meet their eyes, hoping they see the determination behind my lack of words.
"I believe in the cause of the humans. Staying in Zlosa a second longer than necessary is a mistake for all of us. I also believe the giants should pay for everything they have done," I say at last.
A few of the men begin to murmur. I feel the weight of their judgment as they watch me.
"Yes, he's not one of us. He merely looks it," Rodrigo says, answering a comment I didn’t quite catch.
"Then you must be a troll, disguised somehow," the gray-haired man says.
I angle my body toward him. "A troll on giant land would be executed immediately."
"Rasa is your name, no?" he says, speaking in the common tongue with a thick accent.
I nod.
"They call meEl Lobo,?4" he continues. “Yes, that is my real name. When I use it in front of you, I trust you with my life. You could take such a name and blab it to the giants, and I'd be hoisted up in front of the slave pens with a pike up my ass."