22. Yera

Chapter twenty-two

Yera

D ays! It has been days locked in this room, but it hasn't been entirely fruitless. A crude map sits on my small desk, marked with what I could recall about the castle layout and a list of everyone I have encountered and their descriptors and personalities.

The two orcs come by daily, trying to intimidate me and make me fearful of my inevitable meeting with the "Mother of Monsters." I've come to view our interactions as comical because of what is happening in their minds, so blatantly disconnected from what is portrayed. It's laughable.

The harpies stopped by as well. They still seem unhappy. Apparently, Dia, as they call her, still hasn't let them go home yet. Oddly enough, I'm feeling bad for everyone here. This person in charge has a fundamental moral issue on their hands.

I'm sitting in a cotton nightdress on my bed, stuffing my face with a breakfast sandwich. The flaky crust breaks off and dusts my bed with crumbs. I would avoid it under normal circumstances, but this room magically cleans itself, so I've become a bit of a slob.

I wipe the crumbs off my fingers and onto the floor, watching them fade into nothing when they hit the wood.

My closet replenishes itself as well. Each day, I take a skirt and shirt, and at the end of the day, it is cleaned and put back. Today, I grab a black tulle skirt and a white silk top. They are not my colors. I have a rich gold undertone that favors the autumn pallet more, but they remind me of Arrick.

My arms wrap over my stomach in a protective gesture when I think about him. I hope he's okay. Our hurried hook-up replays on a reel in my mind most nights. We were both so desperate for touch or distraction. We didn't get a chance to fully experience each other, to discover precisely what makes us both shiver with want.

I've spent every night here with my hand between my thighs, thinking of him, what we did and what I want to do to him. I inhale deeply, breathing in all the lust fogging my vision and clearing it on the exhale.

A hard rap on my door breaks my lusty thoughts as quickly as they come. I guess it's time for my daily orc visit. This time, however, I hear the metallic click of keys on the door handle.

I stand back, expanding the distance between myself and the door. The handle shakes a bit before the key slides into place and the lock on my end pops open.

The two orcs stand before me, looking as intimidating as usual, not knowing what I have discovered about them .

Shit, I forgot to hide my map. I hold my face still, willing my body not to glance over to the desk where the papers I compiled lay out, listing all the intel I've gathered in plain sight.

Instead, I glare at them head-on, not wavering. "Did you need something, orcs?" I say with acid in my tone. David's shoulders slump a bit before the other straightens and fixes me with a stern gaze.

"Dia has decided that she wants to speak with you today. If you play nice, she just might let you live," the other orc says teasingly.

"About fucking time. I've been bored as hell in here." They both shoot me an incredulous look. It's not untrue. I am bored and would rather know my fate than to be stuck in a cell where I can't help anyone.

"I'm surprised you're so willing to meet your fate, little human. The odds are not in your favor," David growls, but I decipher the silent conversation between the two. Neither is happy to be here; both are oddly concerned for me. Which I find terrifying and endearing simultaneously.

I suck in another breath, steadying my resolve. My hands run over the tulle skirt as if to straighten my appearance. Nodding confidently, I walk over to the towering orcs and pretend their height doesn't intimidate me. "Am I allowed to walk alone, or are you compelled to carry me again?" I say, rustling up every fiber of brat in my being.

Not David , I've come to call him, smirks at me and then bends down and slings me over his shoulder, as if the pace at which I would walk would be more inconvenient than carrying me.

His brawny muscles dig into my stomach, reminding me that breakfast was only minutes ago. I squirm, trying to find a position that doesn't threaten to bring my eggs back up.

"Stop wiggling!" Then he slaps my backside with enough force that it might have left a handprint on my ass for a day or two .

We walk down a maze of corridors.

Each turn, I try to find something worth remembering in the event of an escape. Unfortunately, by the ninth or tenth new hallway, all hope of imprinting a path or finding a pattern down the identical rock walkways becomes impossible.

I slump over the tight shoulder that holds me in place, giving in to helplessness. Watching the patterns in the granite floor blur as we hurry past makes the speckled stone seem more like the "Hidden Eye" poster on the wall of my fourth-grade classroom.

The orcs speak again, their mouths unmoving but their voices as clear as day.

I shouldn't have slapped her. That just felt dirty .

Yeah, I was wondering where that came from. It's not like you to be crude, even with a prisoner .

Our conversation with Dia has me all fucked in the head. How does she expect us to do her bidding when there is no endpoint? No genuine gratitude for our service, just threats .

I've been thinking the same thing all morning; I'm ready to live in the Deep Woods. Hiding but free . The giant creature holding me lets out a massive sigh, and I can feel his body slump under the press of my weight.

Oddly enough, I really do feel for these two. Their brutish exterior is indeed just that. Over these past few days, I've heard them off-handedly mention art, botany, and music to varying degrees. They are intelligent and deserve lives of their own.

Rage builds in the pit of my stomach. A churning wrath has been hiding in my depths since being forced into this land by those fucking wisps. Fear has wrapped a fist around my anger, forcing me to choose despair in my moments of weakness instead of a more helpful emotion, fury .

There will be no mercy for this Mother of Monsters. I know exactly what needs to be done.

The orcs haul me through a set of large copper double doors. The once continuous granite floor is now marble and obsidian tiles in a mosaic pattern.

Sound bounces off the walls of sharp polished stone as we walk through. This room is cavernous and empty.

The men push past another set of doors. This time, gilded and carved with intricate drawings I don't have time to make out before I'm hoisted off the orc's body onto my feet in the center of a marble and gold throne room.

There are only seconds to assess the room before my attention is called to the woman sitting on a raw gold throne carved into the rock-face, as if the carver stumbled upon a gold nugget in the marble and hastily crafted a throne from it.

The woman sitting atop is like nothing I have ever seen. From a distance, her skin radiates gold. Upon closer inspection, tattooed gold scales cover every inch of exposed flesh. The scale pattern is serpentine, which makes sense when her gold cobra eyes glance up at me.

The wildlife biologist in me has so many questions. She has distinctly reptilian features but is completely human otherwise.

She has long auburn hair, a narrow waist that gives way to round hips, and large breasts. If I'm going to be crude about my observation, this chick could make Jessica Rabbit jealous. She is hands down the most attractive woman I've seen. I blush, beside myself, staring up at her full golden lips. What the hell is wrong with me? I came to take this bitch down— ogle her .

She shifts on her throne, observing my assessing glances. Her eyes, like the eye of Sauron, scan me from head to toe. The refractive stained glass casts different colors onto her skin as the sunlight ebbs in and out with the onset of clouds.

"Come closer, girl. Let me get a good look at you." Without protest, I walk toward her like a ship to a lighthouse.

Up close, she is even more magnificent. I gulp, looking up at her like I'm a child. She referred to me as a "girl." I wonder if she finds me so little of a threat that she considers me a child. My feeble human body and lack of tangible power make me no match for the Mother of Monsters before me.

That's when I remember my plan. I straighten and lock eyes with the goddess. "Why exactly am I here?" I say to her incredulously, my face showing only boredom and lack of interest.

"My sweet human, you are the first piece of a plan set into place centuries ago." Her voice is saccharine, and her full lips crook into a smile that is anything but comforting.

I loose a deep breath and get to it. "Fantastic, but that doesn't exactly answer my question." My eyebrow raises, and I twist my face in a look of dissent. She shifts a bit in her seat again, this time in anger. She's unaccustomed to being addressed like this.

"Watch your tone, girl, or you won't be leaving this room alive." Venom stings her words, and seeing as how she is clearly part reptile, the inflection hits its intended mark. Instead of letting the tone strike and collapse my last thread of courage, I let it slough off me like a second skin. Her venom drops to the floor at my feet.

I take a step closer, hardening my features further. "I think I will. Actually,." I cross to her left side, forcing her face to follow me. "If you wanted me dead, you would have done it already." I pace now, back and forth like a caged beast before it attacks. "If you wanted to torture me, you wouldn't give me a comfortable room and food. From where I stand, you clearly need me alive and healthy, so let's cut the bullshit, and you tell me what you want." My voice is infused with the same level of insufferable sweetness.

Her jaw drops briefly before she picks it up and returns her face to passive amusement. "Well, aren't you an interesting little thing? We can do things your way." The large gold doors creek, and I whirl to see who is entering. The harpies walk in single-file and join the ranks of the orcs.

At first glance, this is a lineup for death and intimidation, but I know better. I turn back to the goddess. "Okay, so get on with it then, or will you make me guess? If it's already been centuries, why not stretch it out more?"

My frank words make the group behind me shift uncomfortably.

"I have been waiting for you, my little pet. Waiting for the Vaki of the Greenlands to find something so worth protecting. Something he would abandon his land and most of his power to come after. I spelled the wisps to grow in numbers; I needed them to bring something precious, something the Vaki couldn't resist, and to my good fortune, they brought you. Of course, dropping some of my monsters in his land also had the added benefit of making invasion that much easier."

Everything clicks into place. I take a moment to process the information, her entire plot lay bare to me. With a few more questions and honest answers, I can shatter this plan into pieces. "Okay, but why not do this earlier? You said, centuries in the making. Why not spell the wisps years ago?"

"Because my father ruled until thirty years ago, and he wanted domination. He just had no true vision for it." Crack.

"Oh, I see. How do you plan to gain control of the lands? I have seen no army."

"My lands are vast, with creatures that can cause havoc and destruction your small human mind couldn't even fathom. I also have loyal subjects." She gestures to the harpies and orcs behind me. "They can carry out my wishes in the coming invasion." Another crack .

"So why not torture me? I understand why you might need me alive, but why keep me in such comfort, if your only intention was to lure Arrick here?"

"We don't know what kind of ripple effect your death and torture might have. Everything here creates and redistributes energy. We don't encounter humans often, so we don't know what kind of energy release killing you would have. The only people who could kill you with no consequence would be the Vaki." She pauses. "You see my predicament." I do indeed. The final fissure in her plan, breaking it to a thousand pieces. I love how this woman just laid it all out. The arrogance! Her plan burst open for me to take apart. This is going to be too easy.

My face is set neutral, an expression you could almost describe as stoic if it weren't for my slightly cocked eyebrow. "So you're doing this because your daddy told you to?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Forgive my candor, your majesty." The statement is also slightly a question. "But what's the point? What exactly do you want to gain?"

"Dominion over all the lands, of course. Complete rule." Her voice is very matter-of-fact, like this is what everyone does and should want.

"Yes, but how do you intend to hold the land once it's conquered?" Time to dig in.

"I command underlings that will do my bidding for me." She gestures to the orcs and harpies. I glance back at them. Their sullen faces show no hint of displeasure with the current ruling conditions.

Turning back, I crook an eyebrow at her. "I don't think you do." She shifts in her seat, thoroughly irritated with my probing .

"Well, then, little human. How about you enlighten me?" She is all confidence. This is someone who has never been questioned and never had a trusted group of people to offer advice or collaboration. They follow her because she forces them. Coercion breeds discontent. Years of history classes have taught me that.

I inhale deeply, the depth of my breath reaching into the pit of my stomach. Strength gathers there, and it's not a supernatural manifestation. I'm pulling from my own tap, the steady stream of logic that makes up my entire self. I gather it like storm cells, like a low-pressure system churning, waiting for the right conditions, for the pulse of electricity to truly become powerful.

"First off, let's say you take the Greenlands over. Then you have to hold your seat of power. The five behind me—" I point at the creatures, looking at the queen obediently. "—they will bail on you the second they get far enough away." Shifting, I stare directly at all three harpies. "I could hear everything you were saying to each other. I know how unhappy you are." They shift nervously, giving away my observation in a single movement.

I turn back to the throne, ready to dig my heels in even deeper. "I've observed that you don't have a formal court. You don't have landowners who have a stake in your reign to create wealth for them. So you don't have any real backers. You might be able to invade for a week or two, but that will all fall apart when you don't have anyone truly on your side to hold the peace."

She is sitting forward in her seat now, almost attentively.

"On top of everything, what is the actual point? To control more people? From what I can tell, your people already don't like you, so a mass of people will rebel instantly, and some of your subjects might join them. It may have been your father's wish, but it doesn't have to be yours. You already found a way to get Vaki here and in a vulnerable position. That seems like something the man you've succeeded couldn't figure out in his lifetime. Why take something over when you have so much raw, untapped potential here? This whole plan doesn't make any sense. It's not logical!" My hand goes up in the air to punctuate my point and frustration.

She's just staring at me, wide-eyed. Part of me wonders if she is reconsidering killing me and dealing with the risk later. Her fingers thumb the arm of the gilded throne, considering. "You know, I could have you killed for speaking to me that way." I can feel the retort boil in my throat—and fuck it, why not? What do I have to lose at this point?

"Well, you already told me why I shouldn't be killed. If you want to intimidate in the future, I recommend not telling your captive that you can't kill them. It makes hostages better behaved."

She shakes her head at me, looking awed and irritated.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she giggles. Small bobs of her narrow shoulders are my first indication. Then, her whole body shakes. Her hand is pressed flat to her face. Soon, deep belly laughs echo in the cavernous room. Her gentle, pure laugh seems to startle the creatures behind me, causing them to laugh awkwardly in agreement.

The room booms with laughter, bouncing off the marble floors and stained-glass windows. I stand stone-faced, confused, as the room erupts with more sound.

The Mother of Monsters—Dia, I mean—steadies herself, wiping tears from her eyes and trying to catch her hitching breath.

"I'm sorry," she says, choking, still wiping the liquid from her flushed cheeks. "I just had many things and connections happen in my mind all at once, and it was laugh or cry, so I chose to laugh." Her hands flail a bit, emphasizing her point. "A small room is attached to this one. It's more suitable for what I have in mind. Would you mind moving in there so we can discuss this further?" I'm a little shocked, but I nod in the direction she gestures and follow. I guess I'm in it now.