I grit my teeth.
"The slaves in Zlosa are split. It wasn't that long ago that everyone started to whisper about troll caverns and some human queen who came to save us all. Those rumors became legends overnight when she succeeded at getting a few dozen women to escape."
The room around me is quiet, but a man to the left of El Lobo continues.
“I am called Tomás. And he's right. You see, against all reason and logic, when we heard about that human queen, many of us believed she would send someone to help. We think that someone is you."
I take a few deep breaths, considering. These men have proven their willingness to share themselves with me.
To this point, what has kept my mouth sealed has been the possibility that they will kill me, and Melisa will be left alone. There's no existence where I can let that happen.
But... Eneko returns soon. We need to leave, and the king and queen had tasked me with the challenge to bring back as many humans as possible.
Even more so, I want that. I want Abet and Nicolás to see Enduvida and feel freedom away from tall trees and endless chopping.
"I was born sixty-three summers ago, but my people age very differently from yours. I was young when my old king destroyed half of our lands, but I still managed to save my family from the lava that rushed through the valley. I come here now, knowing that Zlosa will soon be destroyed."
The silence that descends is felt in the depths of my bones.
"I've personally witnessed how they treat you, and I've worked until my bones ache to help as many survive as possible. I will help fight that all of you will break free from this life."
For a minute,the silence persists. And then one of the men shakes his hand.
"Then we agree. We riot."
Riot.
In my head, I see mattocks, axes, and whips turned against the giants. I see the mighty force of men capable of fighting back against a monstrous enemy.
"The stories about trolls were untrue, weren't they?" El Lobo asks hesitantly.
I huff a bitter laugh. "We are strong, but we are not needlessly cruel. Not anymore. And we never ate your kind.”
Rodrigo comes forward and claps his hand on my shoulder as if we had somehow become friends. As if he'd never said any of the awful things I'd heard him say about Melisa.
"When exactly do you intend on rioting?" I ask.
The men look up at me, but Rodrigo pulls up one of the floorboards and pulls out a stained length of cloth. Slowly, he spreads it on the ground to reveal a map etched across the graying color with soot.
“The plan is next week. The giants have killed so many of us that they aren't watching as closely. They think our spirit has died."
One man snickers, then pulls out a bottle of something strong-smelling and takes a swig.
“Por la libertad,”?5he whisper-shouts.
The others repeat the chant in hushed tones.
When the small bottle is passed to me, I smell it and take a drink, ignoring the uncomfortable burn in the back of my throat.
"How does this start?" I ask.
One of the men with a long, scrawny face grins, revealing several missing teeth. "With fire."
"For the last year, we've been storing animal fat and stealing cloth. In another location, we have two dozen barrels ready to be lit up. We can start putting them at the gates, holding them in the slave pens, but lately, we’ve had a new development.”
“Go on," I start.
Several of them glance between each other, but it is El Lobo who clears his throat.