Chapter 2

The next day, the trollkin with the purplish-blue skin, bright eyes, and swagger returns. Short, wild hair shoots out on top of his head and a huge, thick braid trails down his back. He gestures a lot with his hands when he talks, which are all decorated with jeweled rings, and his gold necklaces clink whenever he moves. Naturally, I can't understand anything he's saying. That's how it's been since I was put in this cage—the monsters constantly talking about me, throwing words in their strange language at me, and then growing angry when I don't obey their commands.

This is hell, and I will never escape.

When this new trollkin opens my cage, I retreat as far into the back corner as I can. I'm not letting another one of those monsters get their grubby hands on me if I can help it. He uses a soothing voice as he reaches inside and grabs the edge of my chamber pot, then grimaces as he removes it. I think it's the first time in a week that anyone's bothered to empty it out.

Is he my new prison guard? Great. A new master to taunt me through the bars and feed me barely enough scraps to live on. He might not have the same hatred etched onto his face as the green female, but he's dangerous all the same.

Later he brings the chamber pot back, and, with it, a thicker blanket. He holds it out to me, but I crawl even further back, pressing myself against the cold bars on the other side of the cage. Realizing I'm not going to budge, he drops the blanket near me and closes the door again, muttering something. Then he's gone.

I let out a relieved breath. The less attention on me, the better. At first, when they put me in this cage, I fought. I rattled the bars and cried for help, hoping someone would take pity on me and let me out. But the monsters only shook my cage, sending me sprawling against the cold metal bars. They taunted me and threw food at me. Since then I strive to be as uninteresting as possible.

Sometimes, though, I consider making a ruckus again. Perhaps if I bit and kicked and tried to run for it, they would give up and kill me. That is, perhaps, my only chance of ever reaching freedom from this horrid, stinking, miserable place. If it meant this would end, I would happily let them slit my throat—but they seem more interested in keeping me just on the edge of life.

Often I wonder what they have planned for me. There must be some goal in all this, but I can't fathom what that is besides torturing me.

Once I'm alone, I reach out for the blanket this latest prison guard has given me, only to find it's soft and sturdy under my hands. I'm surprised I would be given something of this quality. It will surely keep me warm tonight. I don't think I've felt warm in weeks—maybe even months. I truly have no concept of how long I was on that ship, or how long I've been trapped in this cage.

Now that my chamber pot isn't overflowing anymore, I can smell the scent baked into the fabric when I wrap myself up in it. It's just faintly musky, like someone uses it often. I wonder if it belongs to the trollkin who gave it to me. I inhale the smell again, because something about it is comforting, an emotion I haven't experienced since this whole ordeal began. The scent reminds me of sunlight. Who knows how long it's been since I felt sun on my skin? Before I was always outdoors, soaking in its warmth as I went on an afternoon horseback ride or swam in the lake nearby. Often it was to escape my parents' bickering, but the sun's warm rays also gave me life.

The scent of those blissful days in my nose, I fall asleep, and for the first time in a while I don't cry.

* * *

Unfortunately, this small spark of hope is quickly extinguished. Not only do I have a new overseer, but the trollkin are planning to move me.

When the wooden crate appears, I scream. It's uncontrollable. I can't be shoved in there again, I just can't. I will stop breathing until I choke. Every inch of my skin is pulling me away.

The trollkin from last night appears at the door to my cage, and again he uses his soothing voice on me, but I won't have it. I crawl into the very back corner of my cage, trying to stay as far from the crate as possible. He reaches in to grab me, and I lash and bite at him because I won't go. This time, I will fight to the death.

But I'm much smaller than he is, and when the creature's big hands wrap around my wrists, he drags me across the floor of the cage without much trouble. It looks like he wants to be here even less than I do. Then the mouth of the crate looms in front of me like a sea monster's great maw, and I scream and scream until there's no air left in my lungs. The female trollkin and my new prison guard work together to shove me into the crate and seal the top, so I'm trapped once more.

When the light goes out, I fall on my back and sob.

* * *