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The other humans shudder at the mention of Barakrin,the shadowy country that is home to dark denizens and ruled by vampires. Though we have never fought openly with our neighbor, many of our people are terrified of them, maybe even more so than they were of the orcs to the south.
Quill shakes his malaise off sooner than the others and asks, “But wouldn’t we have recognized strangers in the villages before they could cause trouble?”
“Not necessarily,” Owen pipes up, surprising me. “Southern refugees have been going in caravans back home, passing through towns on their way. Anyone from those caravans could have set the fires, then left with their caravans the next day, none the wiser.”
“Let’s not forget about greed, either,” says Verrick, his brows furrowed deeper than usual. “Some of your friends and neighbors could have taken bribes to set the fires as well. Anyone could have been turned.”
I wince. That comment is inflammatory, and I can already see the outrage on the other humans’ faces. Bronwyn opens her mouth, fire in her eyes and anger in bearing, most likely to refute the statement, but I break in, my tone conciliatory, “We mean no disrespect toward your loved ones. But times have been desperate and foreign spies would be masters of exploitation. There could have been someone that felt they had no choice but to accept a bribe.”
“Then what do you expect us to do?” Quill snaps. “You’ve just told us that anyone could be the perpetrator. We’ve narrowed down no one and now must suspect everyone.”
“Not true,” I say. “We’ve ruled out the orcs.”
“Great,” the man replies sarcastically, “our overlords are safe. It would have been much easier if it were an orc. At least we would have known them by sight!”
Oh, odious, odious man. I open my mouth, ready to give him a tongue lashing, when Bronwyn surprises me by saying, “Shut up, Quill. You’re insulting both the regents and they are the ones trying to help us. Making wishes that our task was easier helps no one.”
The redhead looks around the tent and sighs, “Maybe we should take a break and reconvene tomorrow. Tempers are rising, and I doubt we will be constructive.”
Verrick nods, “Alright, we will spend another day in Aquilar, continuing our investigation. My orcs will start interviewing witnesses. Then we will move on to Kingsbury. We can’t stay here forever.”
Agreement echoes through the tent, and one by one everyone leaves until Verrick and I are alone. With a sigh, I lower myself into a chair, my frustration rising.
“He is right about one thing,” I say. “It will not be easy to find the individuals serving the greater whole, even if we are sure about the ultimate perpetrator.”
The big orc looks thoughtfully at the tent flap where everyone left. “Perhaps,” he responds. “But I am starting to have a theory.”
“Oh? Do share.”
He shakes his head. “Not yet. I want to be sure before I speak things aloud. One can never be too sure who might be listening.”
A reminder of the Cabal. They need to believe that I am following their plan and luring Verrick to Grimblton to be slaughtered. If they get any sign that I am playing them, who knows how their plans may evolve or even accelerate? Still, I wish we could speak freely, at least when we are alone. A silence totem would be useful.Oh well.
“Alright,” I reply. “Keep your own council for now. Shall we go to bed?” I give him a loaded look, one that reminds him we are meant to be playing at lovers.
“Of course,” he replies, kind of stiffly. “Let me douse the lumen crystals.”
“You can keep them on,” I tease lightly, rising and walking toward the bed, a little sashay in my hips. “I don’t mind.”
“I can see you perfectly in the darkness,” he says, snuffing out a crystal. “We do not need to risk others seeing your silhouette outside.”
“Can you?” I ask, intrigued. “Are all orcs so gifted?”
Verrick shakes his head. “Orcs can see better in the dark than humans, but my eyes are made for darkness deeper than a moonlit night.”
“From your non-orc parent?” I query.
He gives a curt nod.
“How fascinating. Who could have given you such dark-seeing eyes? Are the ogres of Perith your kin?” I ask innocently. “You are so big, after all.”
As he moves through the tent dousing lumen crystals, Verrick snorts, “Not likely.”
“But you have no markings of troll, nymph, or elf,” I reason. “And you seem too big to be of human-get, though I suppose that would explain your dislike of us.”
He glances up, his darks unreadable. “I do not dislike humans.”
I laugh at that. “Yes, you do.”
