8. Sloane

Chapter 8

Sloane

The object Zephyr dropped on the table is a pocket knife, and I stifle a laugh of pure joy. It's surprisingly light and compact, and small enough to easily hide on my body if I can figure out a way to secure it.

"Where in the hell did you find this, my little dragon friend?"

I push a small button on the side that cycles through its options, my excitement building with each discovery. This thing isn't just any pocket knife. It's an alien, multi-tool pocket knife on steroids.

There's a switchblade, of course, that's wickedly sharp. But that's just the beginning.

I find a miniature flashlight that's so bright it makes me squint, and something that looks like a laser cutter. To test it out, I point the laser beam at a solid metal sculpture on the side table; it slices it in half like it's cutting through butter.

Oops.

Another push of the button brings a holographic image to life. It's a small, three-dimensional map of the room around me. I head to the window and point the tool into the distance. I'm rewarded with a 3D map of a section of the kingdom. Looks like I have a map now.

There's a device that looks like a tiny tentacle, writhing as if it's alive, which I can probably use to unlock the door. And something else that looks like a bottle opener, but probably has some other purpose.

This isn't just a multi-tool pocket knife, it's a get-out-of-jail-free card. I just need to wait for the right time to use it.

Thank you, Zephyr.

Just as I'm about to test the next feature, I hear the telltale sound of a key in the lock followed by a knock. Panicked, I throw the sculpture pieces into the wardrobe and shove the multi-tool under my pillow, smoothing out the fabric just as the door opens.

I turn to face whoever's entering, praying they didn't see me hide something, and find myself face-to-face with an older orc male. He looks strikingly similar to Dexari, although there's a bit of gray in his black hair and a few more years and battle scars etched into his features. But they must be related. The family resemblance is undeniable.

He looks at me with a piercing gaze that makes me squirm. "I am Denari," he says, his voice deep and authoritative. "Dexari's father, former king of Ari, and current Elder."

Despite the respect he's probably due, I bring out my signature snark. "Charmed, I'm sure. I'm Sloane, Dexari's prisoner."

Denari's eyebrow quirks up when I don't use his son's title, but I catch a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Indeed."

"What's an elder?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me. "Is that what older orcs are called?"

"Not quite," he says. "The Council of Elders are a select group of mature leaders who advise the current king. We provide wisdom and guidance based on our collective years of experience."

I nod, processing this. "Can you overrule the king if he makes a bad decision?"

"Not typically. An orc king's rule is absolute. Yet, I do have significant sway when it comes to my son." Denari watches me carefully, and I get the sense he's weighing my worth, calculating how I might fit into whatever plan he's brewing. "Do you have foot coverings?"

"I don't know. Let me check." I root around in the wardrobe, careful not to expose the broken sculpture, and find a pair of slippers to wear. They're too long for my small feet, although I can walk in them.

He holds out his arm, a gesture that seems oddly gentleman-like considering I'm a prisoner. "Walk with me," he says, although it's not really a request.

I get the feeling that this walk isn't about stretching my legs. Denari's presence suggests there's more going on.

Should I play along? Maybe.

After all, it's not every day a girl gets a guided palace tour from a former orc king, and this will be an excellent opportunity to scope out my eventual escape route.