8. Abigail

8

ABIGAIL

I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't the forest grove I found behind the bathroom door. Gragash's low chuckle behind me made me snap my mouth shut, trying not to show my shock. Too late, of course.

The room looked huge, big enough that it had to be fake, but the illusion was so well crafted I couldn't spot the boundary between real and hologram. Discrete lighting guided the eye to the fixtures, and pleasant birdsong filled the air.

A waterfall tumbled down to the rocks next to a pool. Alien plants surrounded it, vines padding the edge, blossoms floating in the water. After the chaotic wreckage of the rest of the suite, it came as a complete surprise.

"You said you trashed everything," I said, stepping forward and running my fingers through the leaves of the nearest tree. Until I touched them, they looked real, but where I made contact, they shimmered and faded out of existence. Holograms this good were expensive to produce. I frowned, looking back at the orc. "You refused to accept any gifts."

Gragash growled, a strange combination of frustration and amusement. "I could claim that destroying something this beautiful would be evil, even if it is a false gift from my enemy. Maybe it's even true, but it's not why this room survived. It's simply hard to wreck. The hologram projectors are behind the walls, and the walls are solid ceramsteel. I did my best, to no effect."

Laughter bubbled up inside me at his earnest explanation. I did my best to control it. "It's too fake for you to break?"

Glower intensifying, he bared his tusks in a snarl. "You try punching a hologram, see how it works out for you."

There was just enough of a twinkle in his eye to show he wasn't entirely serious. "Besides, if I destroy everything Vaher gives me, I'm as much under his control as if I accept all the gifts. He'd just start sending me things he wants gone."

"You mean, like he sent you a journalist?"

Am I only alive because Gragash is petty? Not a cheerful thought, but the orc laughed and shook his head. "Little human, you are alive because I would rather gnaw off my arm than see you hurt. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew our fates were bound together."

Heat rose in my cheeks, and I had to look away. I mumbled an incoherent objection, but Gragash wasn't letting me get away with that.

"You may not believe in fate," he said, stepping forward and lifting me off my feet. "I know better. We'll not waste our time debating destiny or other questions better put to a priest. We have more valuable things to do."

I squirmed in his grip, though I knew I'd no chance to pull free. He didn't hold me for long, anyway—as soon as he finished speaking, he threw me.

My squeal of outrage and terror filled the room, and I flailed as I sailed through the air. A moment later, I hit the pool at the waterfall's base with a stinging splash. Warm water closed over me and I thrashed my way back to the surface, spluttering and glaring.

"I'll get you for that, you fucker." My outraged shout might have been more convincing if I didn't look like a drowned rat, but Gragash wouldn't have taken my threat any more seriously. He was already in the air, leaping into the pool with all the style and elegance of a brick thrown through a window.

Waves from his impact crashed over me, leaving me spluttering again. Folding my arms, I glared at him when he resurfaced, but found it an impossible expression to hold. A smile tugged at my lips and after a few seconds of struggling to suppress it, I gave up. Gragash grinned back at me, unrepentant.

"I'm serious about getting my revenge," I warned him.

"You would disappoint me if you weren't," the orc said. "Not that I'll make it easy for you. Now relax, little human. This is our haven, and I will not tolerate serious talk here."

The temptation to ask ‘Or what?' was strong, and my blush returned to full force at the thought of what his answer might be. I shook off the idea—I didn't want to provoke him, no matter how much fun his response might be. He was right. We had an oasis of peace and calm here, which we should treasure. Even so, I couldn't quite leave the serious topics alone.

"Why do you go along with Vaher's bullshit? I mean, if you tried to escape, you might not make it, but you'd have a chance?"

He sighed and grimaced, answering in a lower tone. "Because it's not just me. Vaher has my kin, and their comfort rests on my behavior. If I go too far, he will sell them to the worst buyers he can find, or just kill them outright. I am not even certain they are still alive. Vaher shows me recorded messages. Recordings are easy to fake."

As soon as he mentioned his kin, I felt an icy stab into my heart. This wasn't a better topic, obviously, and I should have kept my mouth shut. But since I'd already fucked up, at least I could do to something to help.

Raising my hand above the water, palm up, I opened my media library and scrolled back through the images I'd captured until I got to the orcs kept in the hold below. The picture hung above my hand, a shimmering hologram, and I rotated it to show Gragash what I'd seen.

"I took this just before they caught me," I said. Gragash stared as I played the few seconds I'd captured, and a smile spread over his face. With the gentlest touch I'd felt from him yet, he took my hand and lifted it, looking into the hologram image.

"Jarchess," he said, voice so low it was a whisper. "My sister. Yes, that is them. My clan, still alive and together. Still aboard this ship."

Bending, he planted a delicate kiss on my palm. "Thank you, Abigail. You have given me a gift of great value, and I shall not forget that."

My face heated. "It's not that valuable, they're still prisoners and?—"

He looked up and met my gaze, silencing me. "They are alive," he repeated. "Together, and in reach. I had almost given up hope."