Amelia

Dexter was right about Dubak. When he came to the barn later that day he seemed agitated. He stood in the middle of the barn as he glared at us. “My daughter has informed me of your… agreement.” He growled. Bulak stood, a little timidly, beside him. “And has miraculously convinced me to go against my better judgment. . . But know this. If I hear even a whisper about an escape, your public execution will be held that day.” He glared at me and Dexter with his violet eyes. His crown covered his hair, but his short beard carried wispy strands of grey. “Am I understood?” He asked us. Dexter and I nodded. Dubak seemed satisfied with his authority over us and left. Bulak not so much.

She waited for Dubak to leave before speaking. “What part of confined to the barn did you not comprehend?” She asked as she stepped towards Dexter.

Dexter let out an annoyed sigh. “Based on my actions you can assume the whole thing.” Dexter retorted.

I slapped his arm again. “Can you please stop pretending that the orcs don’t matter?” I asked him. “You treat them like a problem to be solved and not people.” Dexter stared at me, clearly not able to argue against my reasoning. “You know very well you could have waited until the guards were told to leave before taking that information down to Shurkul.”

Dexter waved off my concern. “Greatness isn’t born from people being patient.” Dexter countered annoyedly. “Did the Wright brothers wait for calculations to prove their flying machine could work?” Bulak looked at him confused.

I scoffed at his retort. “Firstly, the Wright brothers had to be patient for the right wind conditions to actually fly their plane.” Dexter seemed to falter at that tidbit. “Secondly, you’re not achieving greatness by doing this, your reading from an instruction manual.”

Dexter clenched his teeth and seemed to think about my words. “Well, you could have at least told the guards to tell us it was for our own safety,” Dexter said, turning to Bulak. Bulak seemed taken aback by this accusation.

I stepped in between them and jabbed my finger on his chest. “Don’t try and blame this on her. She did what she thought was best for us. How was she supposed to know you’d somehow sneak away and run into Dubak?”

Dexter gritted his teeth at that statement. “You’re taking her side?” Dexter asked me, gesturing at Bulak.

I nodded as I gestured exasperatedly. “Considering she has legitimate reasons for her actions beyond petty ego-building, Yes” Dexter let out a slow sigh as he seemed to consider my words for a minute. I continued when he didn’t retaliate. “Can we move beyond our own desires and goals and focus on the bigger picture?” I asked him.

Dexter started rubbing his head, seeming to have an internal conversation. “Fine,” Dexter finally relented. “But can we agree that it’s better if all of us are informed about the current situation?” Dexter asked turning to Bulak. I turned to her as I found a hint of validity in Dexter’s question.

Bulak seemed to consider Dexter’s words for a minute. “Fine, but if I confine you to the barn you will stay there, understand?”

Dexter nodded. “So long as we’re provided with a reason,” Dexter confirmed.

Bulak nodded as she seemed satisfied. “Good,” Bulak said as she turned to leave. She seemed to hesitate at the door, then turned back. “You two should know something.” Dexter and I looked at her, concerned. “My father is not as forgiving of mistakes and offenses as I am. So tread carefully around him.”

Dexter nodded as he stared at Bulak. “We’ll be walking on eggshells,” Dexter vowed. Bulak nodded and left the barn. Dexter then turned to me. “For how long we’ll do that is the real question.”

I looked at him, exasperated. “Seriously?” I asked him. “He almost killed you and you want to antagonize him?”

Dexter shook his head. “I’m not going to antagonize him.” Dexter retorted. “I'm just not going to deliberately avoid a subject when I talk to him.” Dexter started walking to the array of tables.

I followed him. “Didn't that get you bitch-slapped by Bulak?”

Dexter hesitated for a second then nodded. “Not avoiding a subject with some restriction.” Dexter countered. “Either way this book is going to be a big help.” He said, lifting the book that had caused his little adventure. Dexter set the book on an open table. He turned back to the page he’d copied from earlier. “I was close in my first description of the metal.” He said, tracing his finger down the page. “I got the cooling effect on the metal backwards. With the process I remember, I'd have way too much carbon. . . It says here I'd be making something called pig iron.”

I stared at him then at the book he was reading from. “Where exactly did you get that book?” I asked him, looking at the page. It was filled with paragraphs and equations. It was descriptive yet concise, with tables describing variations of steel, and processes annotated with other page numbers.

Dexter flipped to a new page as he replied. “My dad had it when he went to college. He used it to verify the properties of metals when his professor made mistakes in the values he gave out and the answers that were true. The first volume focuses mostly on the metals while the second volume deals more with other materials. . . Basically, any physical metal or material that was invented before 1978 and their subsequent production processes.” He paused as he read the page. “He gave the books to me for good luck.” He began flipping through the pages again.

I looked at Dexter curiously. “So why didn't you immediately look for this book?” I asked.

Dexter stopped and looked up. “Because I didn’t remember that I packed it.” He replied a bit impatiently. He seemed to stop himself as he took a slow breath. He eventually continued in a calmer tone. “I had four boxes of books back there,” Dexter explained, pointing at his car. “I'd be hard-pressed to remember every single book I had in there.” He looked back down at the book. “Either way, we have it now and we can make the metals a lot faster. . . A lot less trial and error.” He suddenly jabbed his finger at the page. “This is the process we use. It's simple it's effective and we can still use the blast furnace.” I looked at the page. It was a description of something called the Bessemer process. Dexter’s mismatched eyes traced the surface of the page as he read. “I’ll need to make something to blow some air into the molten pig iron.” Dexter suddenly looked up at the door. “I also have to wait for the scribe to come and copy the information.” Dexter moved back to his binders and started writing something down, deliberately moving the pen slowly.

I followed him as I brought my mind to our original goals. “What happened to us trying to escape?” I asked him. “Where does this process fit into that plan?”

Dexter turned to me. “We need more light-weight metals and materials if we’re going to make anything that’ll get us out of here.” He replied calmly. “On top of that, we have no idea where we are or what route will get us out of here, let alone back to Earth. There are other tribes out there.” He went back to writing. “I know you're anxious to get out of here but if we don't plan it right we get killed.” He ripped the page out and held up a finger. “We have one shot. We need to make it count.” He started moving towards the door again.

I followed him. “Where are you going now?”

He held the page over his shoulder as he walked. “Back to the forge, I gotta give this diagram to Shurkul.” It was a basic diagram of the process he found before. “He’s undoubtedly still there. He and Urog made a complete mess of the place earlier.”

I stared at him. “Don’t tell me they started fighting again.”

Dexter stopped in his tracks, seemingly thinking. “It’s nothing you have to worry about,” Dexter said quickly, continuing his strides towards the door. “There might be a scribe dropping by tomorrow. You may need to help him find the pages to copy.”

I looked at him angrily. “I’m not a secretary,” I said, disgruntled.

Dexter stopped in front of the door and clenched his jaw. He stood there for a moment before letting out a sigh and turning to me. “I didn’t say that you were. But that doesn’t change the fact that he might need help finding the pages to copy.” He turned to the door. “And for whatever reason, the orcs don’t use the Arabic numerals.”

I stared at him. “What?” I asked. “Well, what do they use?”

Dexter shrugged. “I didn’t have time to ask,” Dexter replied. “I was too busy trying to get back to the barn.” He seemed to think for a minute. “You could probably ask the scribe when he gets here. I imagine he needs to know to write in their number system.” I thought about his words for a moment. “A new number system would certainly be interesting. Would it be like China, or would the Romans be more their speed? What if it was a combination of the two? What kind of system do they have?”

I let out a sigh as I nodded and looked up at Dexter. “I think I will.”

Dexter nodded as he pulled open the door. “I’ll be back shortly. We can finish organizing the boxes when we get back.” I turned back to the table of books. They had mostly been sorted into useful and non-useful piles. They were everything you could need for your first year of college. “Might as well get back to work.” I thought as I walked over and pulled out one of the textbooks.

I spent the rest of the day looking through more books. Like the others, they were marginally helpful, nothing like the Encyclopedia Dexter found, but they could be used to verify physical laws that we had no way of testing. I took careful note of where the equations were as they would likely be necessary for the future. The sun was starting to set when Dexter finally returned. “Did you and Shurkul formulate a plan for that steel process?” I asked as Dexter closed the door.

Dexter nodded as he let out an exhausted sigh and walked over. “Yep, but it's going to take a few weeks to build everything we need. Plus, we’ll need to modify the blast furnace to better pour into the apparatus.” I nodded. “But once we make this we can focus on inventing the electrical aspect of the engine. It'll take a while to make enough steel to build the chassis.”

I nodded. “It'll be best to get that out of the way quickly. We'll need lead and acid to start our first battery.”

Dexter pointed at me as he sat in a chair. “Garahk will have that.” He suddenly grinned as he leaned back slightly. “How likely is it that she’s trying to use alchemy to turn lead into gold?” He asked, stretching.

I laughed. “About as likely as her using bone charms to predict the future,” I replied jokingly.

Dexter laughed. “Maybe I should get my fortune read then. It might pass the time when the orcs get tired from working.” I nodded as I absentmindedly tapped the book I’d been reading. He looked over as he heard the tapping. “Find anything useful?” Dexter asked.

I looked down at the book in front of me. I had it open to a chapter on batteries. “Nothing beyond how each part interacts with another,” I replied, turning the page. “What about the scribe?” I asked, turning to him. “When is he supposed to arrive?”

Dexter leaned back as he let out another exhausted sigh. “The scribe should stop by around noon tomorrow,” Dexter replied, glancing at his watch. “You’ll be able to grill him on their number system then.” I nodded. “But for right now I think I’ll look through the Encyclopedia for anything else useful, then head to bed.”

I nodded as I watched Dexter stand and walk over to the table. “Let me knew if you need any help,” I called. Dexter gave me a thumbs-up as he reached the still open book and began reading. I turned back to my own book as I turned to a new second on circuits. “I can only imagine what else we can get out of that.”

I was reading one of the textbooks in the loft when a knock at the door alerted me to a visitor. I climbed down and rushed over, oversized shirt bouncing along. When I opened the door an orc carrying a scroll of parchment and a leather satchel greeted me. He was about average size for an orc, though decidedly less muscular. His black hair was pulled into a short ponytail. He sported a short goatee. His deep brown eyes darted quickly as he looked me up and down. He suddenly gestured with the roll of parchment in his hand. “I have been told there is information to catalog.” He said, holding up a scrawled note.

I took a second to take him in then nodded. “Yes, Shurkul needs some information copied. Though I’m sure he’s informed you on that already. My name’s Amelia.” I said, holding out my hand.

The orc looked at it for a second then extended his own. “Jolagh.” He said, shaking it. “I am inclined to say I find your customs fascinating.” I smirked slightly as he relinquished his grip. “I found it most interesting when I learned you visit the bathhouse almost daily.”

I grinned again as I nodded. “There’s kind of a reason behind that. But come on in, you must be anxious to begin.” I said, motioning him inside. Jolagh nodded as he stepped inside. He looked around at the mess of tables and boxes scattered about the barn. His eyes almost immediately locked onto the car.

He pointed with the note as he quickly walked over to it. “Is that what you are attempting to build?”

I nodded as I watched him stop and examine the vehicle, gently pressing his fingers on the windows and doors. “Yes, though the one we make won’t look anything like that. We’ll have to use wood or something for the outside.”

He turned to me, confused. “Why would you be required to do that?” He asked. “Snakhagr has plenty of metal. I do not see why you cannot make the outside out of metal as well.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that simple. That metal is special. It’s very difficult to make. Its properties mean it's lightweight and not going to cause complications with how the car supports itself. . . The book we have explains it better, but for right now Shurkul needs the entries on Steel and the Bessemer Process.”

Jolagh blinked and seemed to remember his original intentions. “Of course, of course,” He said, straightening and turning in place. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a pair of small spectacles. He slipped them on as he approached an open table. He chose one far away from the mess we’d manage to accumulate on some of the others. “Just direct me to the entries and I’ll be out of your way as quickly as possible,” He said as he sat down.

I nodded as I retrieved the book and brought it over to where he sat. “You’re much friendlier than the others,” I remarked. “Most of the orcs I met didn’t seem keen on handshakes.”

Jolagh nodded. “They have not been friendly to outsiders ever since. . . He was here.” His expression immediately changed, and I took it as a cue to change the subject matter.

I gently placed the book in front of him as I gave him a curious expression. “So why are you?” I asked

Jolagh hesitated for a moment as he appeared to consider the question, an air of solemnness around his expression. “Because I realize that while He did some terrible deeds it is not grounds to assume that all outsiders are that way. . . . Even if his actions killed our Chieftess.” I nodded grimly. Internally I was marveling at what sat before me. “An orc that's intellectually centered.” Jolagh continued, quickly trying to change the topic to something more upbeat. “We must learn how to identify such uncaring outsiders and deal with them according to their actions.”

I nodded again, taking a cue from his almost expression and looking at the book. I pointed at the entry on steel as I explained where to find what Shurkul had asked for. “So it’ll be these two pages, and another page further in the book.” Jolagh nodded, seeming happy to have avoided what must surely have been a grim subject. I turned to go back to reading and left him to copy the information. “Call me if you need help.” I moved to continue searching through the textbooks. “I might not have to interrogate him. If he’s as curious as I think, he’ll be asking me about the numbers in there.”

Jolagh worked for what must have been an hour before his curiosity broke. “Amelia.” He called out. I looked up from my book. He was turned to my table. “Would you mind answering a query I have?” He asked, pointing at the roll of parchment he was writing on.

I nodded and stood. “Sure,” I said, walking over. “What do you need?” I looked at his parchment, the text was beautifully copied. He’d copied the paragraphs, the tables, equation, and their spacing almost to a tee. The only discrepancy was the way the words were written on the page. He’d written in that old style of letters found in a lot of medieval books. It gave the information an aged and experienced look. He even mimicked the photo of steel ingots as best he could, using various colored inks. It was surprisingly satisfying to see the amount of work he’d put into this. He had finished the first page and was halfway through the second, stopping just as he finished one of the tables on alloys.

Jolagh’s finger was planted on one of the chemistry equations. “What are these symbols next to the letters?” Jolagh asked. He’d still copied the numbers, but the strokes were darker as if he was unsure about how to form the symbols with his quill. “I am unfamiliar with their purpose.”

I paused as I tried to come up with a way to explain what the Arabic numerals were. “They numbers. It’s how we count things.” I looked at him. He seemed to be processing my words, attempting to decide the meaning each of the numbers held. I created a follow-up question to try and help him understand. “How do the orcs count things? For instance, how would you write out fifteen?” Jolagh seemed to think for a minute. Then he pulled out a scrap piece of parchment and wrote “╲│” on it. I looked at the strokes. “Okay . . . What about twenty-three?” Jolagh looked down and wrote “╲╲╱╱╱”. “eighteen?” “╲│╱╱╱” I looked at the series of strokes. So far I couldn't see a pattern. “Write one to ten out for me.” Jolagh jotted down ten lines of various strokes. I looked at the lines as I saw a familiar structure. I finally saw a pattern. I smiled as I placed my hand on Jolagh’s shoulder. He looked up at me. “I think I need to introduce you to Arabic numerals,” I said, enthusiastically.

I let Jolagh finish copying the information on Steel and the Bessemer Process before I explained our number system. He listened with rapt attention and asked an occasional question. I used a box of blank index cards to show Jolagh the various speed and efficiency advantages of the numbers. I also learned more about their own number system. It was similar to the Roman method, but with an additional rule. They intersected three of their four numeral strokes to denote larger and larger numbers.

By the time Dexter joined us I was almost done explaining the mathematical advantage the Arabic system had over their system. “Hello,” he said, closing the door. “You must be the scribe they sent up,” Dexter said as he walked over and extended his hand. Dexter and Jolagh exchanged a brief introduction. “So, what’s all this?” Dexter asked, looking at the scrap parchment.

“That's their number system.” I replied, pointing to each symbol as I spoke. “╱ is one, │ is five, ╲ is ten, and it’s not on this list but a horizontal line is a hundred.”

Dexter stared at the list. “So it's like the Roman numerals?” Dexter asked.

I nodded. “But they intersect the lines to denote higher value number.” I clarified. “They multiply the original value of the single lines together. So a plus sign denotes five hundred.”

Dexter thought for a minute. “Sounds like an efficient system.” He remarked.

I nodded. “But it's terrible when you need a large complex number or need to do complex math.” I held up an index card showing a mathematical equation. “Still remember your integrals?”

Dexter nodded and stared at the card. “Forty-Five,” He said quickly. I nodded and held up another card, this one using the orcish numerals. Dexter immediately frowned as he stared at the card. “Thiiiirty. . . Six?” Dexter answered with uncertainty.

I grinned as I saw him struggle a bit. “See?” I asked. “It’s much harder to do.” I held up two new cards. “Now try and just read the numbers.”

Dexter turned to the card holding Arabic numerals. “Two Thousand, Five-Hundred, and Sixty-Four,” Dexter said, pointing. He then turned to the card holding the orcish numerals ‘─ ┼╲╲╲╱│’. “Jesus,” He remarked.

I grinned again. “Exactly. It’s impossible to represent numbers in the millions effectively.” I turned to Jolagh. “I can only imagine what your financial books look like.”

He nodded, his face slightly drained after spending the day learning this new number system. “Apprentices spend years understanding how to denote in books properly.”

I nodded as I piled the note cards away neatly. “But I taught you in the basics of the Arabic system in the span of a day. Just imagine how much easier everything could be if the orcs used this system.”

Jolagh let out a sigh as he nodded. “But It shall take time for the city to adopt this system.” Jolagh countered. “Even if we can convince Dubak and the public council of its efficiency.”

Dexter let out a thoughtful hum. “Bulak might be able to help with that.” Dexter finally said. Jolagh and I looked at him.”If we can convince her it’s to help build the car she might be able to convince Dubak to change the policy.”

Jolagh thought for a moment then shook his head. “You must still convince the public council. They are not likely to adopt an outsider’s method after what He did. You would need to do something grand to earn their favor.”

Dexter looked at Jolagh. “Just how many of them would I have to woo?” Dexter asked.

Jolagh thought for a moment. “A movement of that magnitude would require three of every four council members to agree. Meaning you would need to sway thirty-eight members as well as Dubak himself.”

Dexter thought for a minute. “If we want this to happen, we’ll have to plan this out more. . . . Did you finish copying the information?” He asked, turning to Jolagh. Jolagh nodded and gestured to one of the tables. Dexter glanced over and saw the small stack of parchment on top of it. “Good. Go ahead and get that down to Shurkul. I’ll explain the numbers to them tomorrow.” He stretched as he spoke. “It might be worth it to transcribe all your books. . . just to make it easier on yourself.”

Jolagh nodded as he began packing up. “I believe Amelia might be of help in this regard,” Jolagh said, closing his leather case.

I grinned as I nodded. “I might actually prefer that. It’s getting really boring just reading through our library of textbooks day in and day out. It’ll be good to do something else for a change.”

Dexter nodded and gave me a thumbs-up. “Sounds like a plan,” Dexter said. He turned to Jolagh. “It was nice to meet you and learn about your numerical system.” He said, extending his hand.

Jolagh took it and shook. “Likewise,” Jolagh replied. “And I shall see you tomorrow.” He said, pointing at me. He then waved goodbye as he left.

I turned to Dexter. “So, how’d it go down at the forge?” I asked him.

He let out a sigh as he rubbed his head. “We made some progress.” He replied “But it’ll still take a few weeks to make the converter. The issue is we want to make it big enough to do at least a few ingots at a time yet small enough so that we don’t use an unreasonable amount of metal. . . But I’m going to get some shut-eye. I just spent the last few hours digging some holes for the foundation and I am exhausted.”

I nodded. “Have a good night then,” I said. Dexter nodded as he waved my way and started heading to the loft. I watched him as I thought about turning in myself. “It’ll be good to get some sleep for tomorrow.”

Dexter

The next week passed in a blur. I spent a day teaching the forge about the Arabic numerals. Shurkul still seemed hesitant about my silence, but was still receptive to my lessons. I ended up hammering the metal alongside them, just to speed up the process of building the converter. We could get away with using brick and mortar for the support of the blast furnace, but the converter needed a method to pour which couldn’t be built on stone supports. Urog taught some of the apprentices how to make gears. They seemed to be fascinated by the various used Urog demonstrated. The converter was slowly coming together. Piece by piece each steampunk-esque part was riveted into place using the forge and a hole punch. I quickly learned what it felt like to have a hammer reverb back on the wielder. Whenever I got back to the barn in the afternoon, Amelia would be helping Jolagh transcribe books upon books of financial records. Amelia said Shel had tried to visit but had quickly left when she realized another orc was in the barn. I kind of felt bad not being able to encourage her. I’d just gotten back a week after Amelia had started helping with the books when a loud bellowing horn interrupted our conversation. Jolagh seemed to freeze. Amelia and I turned to him expectantly. “What was that?” I asked.

He seemed slightly nervous as he turned to me. “The public council horn.” He replied. “It’s only ever blown to summon the public for a meeting at the Great Hall.” I looked at him confused. Jolagh gestured insistently as he saw how unfazed we were. “It’s only ever done when a meeting must be held at that moment. The last time it was blown it’d been to discuss the escape of Him.” Amelia and I glanced at each other. Now we were on alert. I moved to exit the barn to see how the city was reacting to it. The sun glared down angrily at me as I stepped outside. The city seemed to have stopped its usual bustle to either close their windows and wait in their home, or to head to the giant Viking longhouse on top of the hill. I watched as people walked either into their homes or up the hill. All their faces were one of concern. Suddenly, three sets of guards approached the barn.

I turned to them as they approached. “What’s happening?” I asked them.

One of them stepped forward and pointed at the barn. “You are being confined to the barn for the foreseeable future.” He growled.

I looked at him and stifled a wave of annoyance. “Bulak said I’d get a reason for any more confinement,” I replied insistently.

The orcs looked at each other. Their leader spoke again. “It is for your own safety; a visitor may recognize you or your companion.” He then grabbed my arm firmly and directed me back into the barn. The door closed with a boom. Amelia and Jolagh were still standing there.

Amelia was the first to break the warry silence. “What’s going on out there?”

I thought for a moment then started moving towards the loft. Amelia and Jolagh followed. “People are either heading inside or heading to the Great Hall,” I said as I started to climb. “And apparently the city has a visitor. . . we’re confined here in case he recognizes either of us.” I continued as I moved towards the loft door overlooking the city. I placed my hand on the frame as I stared out at the city wall, the gate was open again. Jolagh stood beside me and Amelia was slightly behind. We watched as the streets started to empty and a new caravan moved down the road to the city. I squinted at the approaching crowd.

They seemed incredibly short compared to the orcs that had just filled the streets. “Elves,” Jolagh said solemnly. I glanced at him then back at the crowd. The best I could tell the tallest would barely rival Amelia’s height. A light seemed to glint off their bodies and reflect around the city. They were most definitely armored. As they got closer I could see more and more details. They’d be marching right past the barn. They carried a familiar color palette. Eventually, I started to make out a pattern, a very familiar floral pattern, emblazoned on their flag and on their cloaks. I turned to Amelia, wide-eyed.

She had her hands clasped over her mouth. “no.” she said softly. I gritted my teeth as I ran through the possibilities. “How THE FUCK did he find us?” I thought as I looked out again. I scanned the approaching crowd. Thankfully, I didn’t see any massive equines. I motioned for Amelia to back up. I slowly followed her deeper into the barn. Jolagh stayed at the door. “How?” She asked as tears started to well in her eyes.

I placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her. “Don’t know,” I said quickly. “But I have to get into that building,” I said, pointing up the hill. “And I promise you. . .” I said, putting both hands on her shoulders, directing her attention at me. “That I won’t let him find out where you are.” Amelia swallowed nervously as her tears started overflowing.

Suddenly Jolagh piped up. “That is the crest of the Baron of Nione. . . Baron Almar.” Amelia immediately clamped her hands over her mouth, letting out a timid squeak. Her expression just screamed terror. I felt a wave of anger swell. Jolagh noticed and turned to us. “Is he here for you?” He asked in a frantic whisper. I slowly turned to him and nodded. He put his hand on his head, seeming to process my words. “If you were enslaved under him. . . then why do you not have a slave bracelet?” He suddenly asked. “Why are you not grabbing your wrists in pain? They have an enchantment, a-a-a failsafe. . . any slave that leaves the borders of Adympia is put in agonizing pain.” Amelia started to tremble.

I quickly diverted her attention. “Because I removed it,” I said as I started to climb down from the loft and walk towards one of the tables.

Jolagh stared at me as I rummaged through my bucket of tools and gasped as I pulled the bracelets. “H-How?” He asked.

I pointed firmly towards the car. “I used the electricity from the battery and engine to melt whatever held this thing together,” I replied, pointing at the spot where the bracelet had split. Jolagh turned in place as he heard me speak. A wave of realization washed over me and I examined the bracelets again. It was the same piece of metal I had electrified earlier, but I was almost certain there was something else in there. “They must have some sort of tracker on it,” I gasped. I looked up at Amelia, trying to find a way to apologize. “I’m sorry. . . I-I should have just left them in the woods.” I said, panicked. I started to formulate a plan, one that could remedy this issue we were faced with. “If they can track it then it can’t stay here. Whatever they’re using will lead them right to us. I need to get rid of this.” I started searching the barn for anything I could use as a cloak. The stables still had some old supplies from the last occupants; rusty tools, hay, and old furs. I found what was probably an old and matted horse blanket in one of the stables. It smelled heavily of equines as I pulled it over my head and tried to fold it into a cloak. I grabbed some spare string out of the bucket and a knife and started to tie two parts of the blanket together, folding the cloak and piercing a hole where the furs met below my neck. “Remember that video. Remember that video.” I climbed back up to the loft, carrying the bracelets and wearing the makeshift cloak.

Jolagh turned to me. “Where are you going?” He asked. “We are not permitted to leave the barn.”

I started moving to the loft door leading to the hill, my heart racing with what I was planning to do. “I’m going to the Great Hall,” I replied softly, looking down at the guards outside the door below. “Are you going to try and stop me?” I asked, turning to Jolagh. He stood there for a second then shook his head. Amelia was still standing in the barn, a far off and panicked look in her eyes. “Amelia,” I called. She looked up at me. I gave her a stern expression. “Even if I have to fight them barehanded I won’t let them find you,” I said, pointing with the bracelet. “I’ll be back. Just wait here.” I looked out of the door again and up at the roof.

I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Amelia staring at me with her deep brown eyes. “Be careful.” She whispered.

I nodded sternly as I let out a calming breath. “Of course,” I affirmed. I then slipped the bracelets into my pocket and reached out to the edge of the roof. My hand couldn’t extend far enough. I repositioned myself, gripping the door frame tightly with my left hand and letting half my body hang along the barn wall. I reached again, this time the tips of my fingers grazed the edge. I tried again, planting my left foot on the very edge of the door and gripped the inside of the frame with my hand. I pulled myself as high as I could and stretched my arm out once more. This time my hand landed firmly on the roof. I let go of the inside of the door and slowly pulled myself up. I quickly placed my other hand beside the first and heaved myself up. My muscles groaned at the strain as I pulled my head over the lip. Once I was high enough, I brought my whole arm up onto the roof, first one then the other. I swung a leg up and hooked it onto a lower part of the roof. I used the foothold to roll my way onto the roof.

I crawled to my feet on the slanted wooden platform to catch my breath, my body panting at the exertion I had just performed. I looked back to check that the guards hadn’t noticed. Their attention was turned to the slowly growing thump thump thump of the approaching elves. Jolagh was leaning out the loft door, staring up at me with a concerned expression. I motioned him back inside and started making my way towards the back wall. The wood beneath me creaked slightly and I cringed as I tried to step more gently. When I finally got to the edge of the roof, I looked over. There were no guards stationed there, just a flat grassy platform. I turned and started to lower myself over the ledge, slowly lowering myself down until I was holding on with only my fingers. I felt my arms straining. The blanket was really weighing me down. I looked down as I hung there. I was now dangling over the edge of the roof. I still had a good five feet to drop. I felt my heart quicken as I remembered my adversity to heights. I clenched my eyes shut as a wave of nervousness washed over me. “This is going to hurt.” I thought.

I took one breath, feeling my fingers lock into a death grip. I took another breath, banishing my current position from my mind. I took one last breath as I forced myself to relax . . . and let go. I briefly felt weightless, the makeshift cloak billowing out as the air beneath is pushed it up and I pulled it down. I forced myself to concentrate as I tried to disperse my energy and land on my feet. My feet were the first to touch the ground, but I almost immediately fell over. A dull pain shot through my legs. I felt my heart quicken as the thoughts I had banished came rushing back and told me to panic. I let out a sharp grunt as I fell on my ass, the thoughts useless at this point as the danger was now passed. I froze, realizing how loud that might have been. I waited for a moment, listening for an approaching guard. Instead, I only heard the steadily growing Thump Thump Thump of the nearby elves. When none came I crawled to my feet and started making my way along the plateau, trying to avoid the sight of the guards. I pulled the makeshift cloak around me, covering my head with the fold and hiding my body within the rest of it. To anyone unaware, I could be just another orc. I took a deep breath of old horses as I slid down the plateau and found another road. I started to make my way towards the Great Hall, cloak brushing the ground lightly as I went.

I glanced behind me as I walked down the empty road, the glint of the army invisible over the plateau. I could still hear the steadily approaching Thump Thump THUMP of the elven army. I tapped my pocket. The hard metal of the bracelets could be felt through my jeans. “I wonder what kind of armor they have. If they can track these, it must be pretty advanced. Radio signals aren’t invented till well after hardened steel. These orcs might be centuries behind the elves. Hell, if Amelia and I were spat out in their area, they might be ahead of us. They might have figured out the multiverse or wormhole tech. Stop it. You don’t know enough to make assumptions yet. Just deal with the bracelets and gather intel. Interfere if necessary, but try to stay low. It’s better if they assume a signal malfunction.” I turned back to the road as I let out a nervous breath.

I spotted a group of straggling orcs making their way up the hill. I followed close behind, blending in as best I could as they made their way to the top of the hill. The longhouse became bigger and more menacing as I got closer. It was about as long as a football field. I looked down as I saw a door in the side of the building. There were two orcs holding it open. I pulled my hood down to better cover my face and slipped in with the crowd. I looked around as the light suddenly dimmed from the bright afternoon to the gloomy dark building. The Great Hall was a good description. The ceiling was towering over tables upon tables of orcs. There were two thrones in front of me, near replicas of each other with one of them slightly less. . . intense. There was a stairway to my left and pillars of wood running lengthwise down the building, one every ten yards or so. The pillars were wider than my shoulders and strengthened with a mortar base that came up to my knees. There were bands of spiked iron wrapped intermittently around the pillars. Large braziers were hanging from the ceiling, casting a dancing light about the wooden tables below. The smell of cooked food lingered as the mossy smell of orc continued to fill the room. Benches of thick wood carried countless orcs as they discussed amongst each other. There was a general rumble of conversation as more and more orcs filed in. I turned to the nearby stairway as I weighed my options. “I need to hide the bracelets.” I bowed my head and ducked towards the stairs as I tried to find a secluded area of the building. The stair spiraled upwards and I followed them.

None of the orcs took note as I ducked away. The sounds of hustle and bustle slowly faded as I climbed. I finally arrived on the second floor and stopped as I saw what was there. Various animal heads were protruding from the walls; boars, bears, wolves dear. There was even what looked to be a giant gopher near the end of the hall. Just about every forest creature you could think of was there. I pulled the bracelets from my pockets and thumbed them as I gazed around the hall. “Where's a good place to hide these?” I spotted an incredibly large boar head to my right. Small bands of iron were fitted intermittently around its tusks, much like the bands of iron on the pillars downstairs. “That’ll work.” I wrapped the bracelets around the base of the tusks, barely fitting it on before retreating back down the stairs. The sounds of hustle roared back to life as I descended the stairs. This time the sound was accompanied by the familiar thump thump thump of the approaching elves.

The orcs were starting to quiet as I rejoined the crowd. I looked around. Most of them were seated at the tables. Those that couldn’t find a place to sit were crowded along the outside wall. I turned as the Thump Thump Thump grew louder again and started emanating along the hall. I now saw that the tables in the center had been cleared, easily allowing a crowd to walk from one end of the building to another without fear of obstruction. I craned my neck slightly to see the far end of the hall. A set of towering doors were affixed to the end of the building, at least twenty feet tall and engraved with an intricate arboreal design. They were slowly bending inwards. I stood behind a pillar as the room finally fell silent. The army of elves marched in through the now open door, a steady THUMP THUMP THUMP marking their progress into the hall. I could see them clearly now. There had to have been at least a few dozen of them, completely covered in metal. Large spears stuck out above the orcs, glinting in the firey light. I could see scabbards strapped to their sides, no doubt carrying dangerous shortswords within. They wore green and beige cloaks over plated and colored armor. Their legs and feet were covered in shiny metal that rattled as they marched. Their entire heads were covered with strange knight-esque helmets. Their faceplates doubled as a kind of mask, contorted into an awfully personal expression yet uncaring of anger and contempt. Though it wasn’t as intimidating as I expected. The tallest amongst them barely came up to my shoulders, and he stood half a head over the others. Still, that didn’t take away from the masks, the lengths of sharpened metal strapped to each of their sides and the large spears they were carrying. I’m pretty sure any army with spears like those were ones to be recked with, regardless of their statue. “I wonder what those spears are capable of. What kind of tech do they have in there?”

I focused on the present as the army suddenly stopped. A hush fell over the hall. I glanced at the throne. Dubak was sitting alone on the larger of the two seats. I looked up as I finally noticed a large alcove behind him, spanning the upper part of the semi-circular wall. A group of about fifty orcs was sitting there, gazing with intent at the small group of elves. I turned back to the army as I let out a breath. “Take your time. Gather information and react. Once the elves leave this will be over.” The army in the middle of the room was parting, allowing someone in the center to step forward. I watched with rapt attention as another elf emerged from the crowd, this one without the helmet and face mask of the others. The elf looked shockingly human, yet completely alien. His eyes appeared to swell in sockets the size of golfballs. His cheekbones stood prominently on his face and gave him an oddly regal look. Pointed ears jutted out from the sides of his head and completed the look of mystical creature. His silvery blonde hair fell freely down his back and swayed back and forth as he walked. His dull brown eyes seemed cold and calculating, silently scanning the orcs around him as he marched forward. He stopped just in the center of the open space, facing the throne. A hush fell over the room as the footsteps of what was likely their leader echoed into silence. I let out a breath as I felt my heart pounding from nervousness. After another moment, the elf finally spoke. “You have something that belongs to us.” His voice was radically different from the orcs. It was as if he was trying to keep his tongue as flat as possible. “We have reason to believe that Almar’s little ‘canary’ is cowering in your city.”

Dubak stared at him. “And why should we believe you?” Dubak asked, shifting in his throne slightly. Their leader smirked reached into his cloak and pulled out a small device. It was a glass sphere ringed in silver. A needle spun wildly in the middle of it, causing a soft ringing sound to emanate from it. There was a murmur as the other orcs reacted to it. I could see movement in the darker corners of the hall. I had no idea what it was, but it must have been connected to the bracelet.

The elf smirked as he heard the whispers. “I take your company knows what this is?” He asked. “I’ve no idea what she’s done to her shackles but given its current erratic nature I’d say she’s in the building at this moment.” He paused to let his words sink in. Dubak seemed to clench his fist. My fingers rubbed against my palm nervously. “I know you orcs have no method of removing the shackles. . . and even if you did you wouldn’t use it on an outsider. . . . I’ll give you one chance. . . deliver her to us and we’ll leave peacefully. . . refuse and we’ll forcibly search the city.” I looked at Dubak. He sat there quietly seemed to be heavily considering his options. I focused on his eyes. They were as cold and as calculating as the elves’. “FUCK, he’s going to hand over Amelia.” I turned around scanned the crowd of orcs. I spotted Bulak sitting at a nearby table. I moved quickly and quietly to the empty seat beside her. Her eyes went wide as I sat with my back to the elf. I did my best to make sure the cloak still hid my features.

“What are you doing here?” She hissed, keeping her head turned to the elf. “I thought I confined you to the stables.”

I spoke quickly, I didn’t want Dubak to have the opportunity to say yes. “Tell your father Amelia has to stay,” I stated firmly. Bulak turned to me. “I’ll do anything you want when they’re gone just please convince him.”

Bulak scoffed and turned back to the elf. “My father can override any agreement given the right reason.” She stated plainly. I stared at her, she showed no expression. I glanced at Dubak. He was slowly raising his head.

I turned back and placed a hand firmly on her shoulder. She turned to me. “If he hands her over I’ll escape within the hour,” I growled firmly. Bulak stared at me. I turned and glanced at Dubak again. He seemed to be approaching a decision. I turned back. “Please,” I whispered. I looked at her pleadingly. We sat there for a minute, my heart pounding in my chest.

Then Bulak sighed and stood as Dubak stood and began his speech. Bulak quickly made her way towards the thrones as Dubak’s booming voice filled the halls. “You offer is generous. . . I, for one, despise any outsider that would dare cower in a city of orcs, and I hold the safety of my people in utmost priority.” Bulak emerged from the crowd and crossed the space to the throne giving Dubak pause. Bulak approached the throne and gestured Dubak close. Dubak leaned down to let her whisper in his ear. I couldn’t tell what she said to him, I couldn’t even see her mouth, but what she said seemed to sway him. After a moment Bulak turned and retreated back into the crowd. Dubak let out a low sigh then straightened slowly, looking at the elf. He was grinning smugly, confident in what the chief in front of him would do. After a minute Dubak continued his speech. “I am certain you believe to be in the right in this regard. My company is certainly aware of the capabilities of your enchanted items and I vehemently wish to avoid the ire of the baron to the west, but I must regrettably inform you that we have no such outsider here.” A murmur radiated through the crowd.

The elf’s eyes widened in confusion then he clenched his teeth. “Surely you don’t expect me to believe there’s not an outsider here?” The elf asked. “He’s got nothing to back that up.” “Even during that single march through your measly city, I heard whispers of our intentions for ‘the outsider’.” “Fuck.” I glanced at the orcs around me. They were starting to get restless. The metal-clad army in the center of the room appeared to sense it and I saw two of them lower the tips of there spears. I thought through the possible outcomes of his next interactions; speech, threats, actions, violence. One thing was certain, they weren’t likely to leave peacefully. They needed something to convince them to take other actions. I let out a calming sigh as I formulated and resigned myself to a plan.”Time to stick your neck out. Convince him you’re the only one here and he may leave.” I got up and moved back over to one of the pillars as the elf continued to speak. “Need I remind you what happened the last time you defied us? Your outsider friend, Leroy, was very helpful in our efforts to ensure your further cooperation with trade.” I glanced at the elf in the middle of the room before ducking out of his line of sight.”New information: name of mystery outsider.” I let out a calming sigh as I mentally fleshed out the details of my plan, using what I learned about them from observation or second-hand remarks.”If they’ll recognize me, I’ll just have to make myself unrecognizable.” I ran my hands through my hair and started to make it as wild as possible. What little of a beard I was starting to grow would be helpful in my efforts to be unrecognizable. I removed my glasses and my cloak, placing the two at the base of the pillar. I stepped out from behind the pillar and leaned on it as the elf continued speaking. My lack of glasses made most of the room look like a giant blur of shifting colors, but I could tell where the important people were. “I know your kind is still reeling from the death of your Chieftess, but must we also put them through your death?”

My eyes widened as I recognized the threat. “You’re not very smart, are you?” I asked in a raised voice. The blurs around me seemed to turn and stare.

The elf shaped blur in front of me sneered up towards the throne. “I thought your chief said you weren’t housing an outsider. So what does your company call this?” The elf blur asked, turning to the crowd blur.

I audibly laughed, causing the elf to turn to me. I squinted slightly to gain a modicum of insight into his reaction. “And not very good at listening,” I retorted. “He said they didn’t have the outsider you’re describing. If you haven’t noticed, I’m very far from a she or do elves not get beards here?” A small murmur of amusement rippled throughout the crowd.

The elf, on the other hand, did not seem to notice my jab and merely glared at me. “Then who are you?” The elf asked, stepping closer.

I continued to squint as I caught a few glimpses of anger within the blur that was his face. “Someone who’s curious about why your searching for this outsider,” I responded. “I’m kind of hoping you’re not in the business I suspect you’re into. Plus, it would be nice to see another one of my kind out here.”

The elf gritted his teeth for a moment then forced himself into a calmer demeanor. “So, you are the only outsider in the city?” The elf asked.

I nodded. “In the flesh and blood,” I replied, gesturing at myself. “Go ahead and take a nice long look. It’s the only one in these parts.

The elf let out a low growl. “And you don’t happen to know where Almar’s ‘canary’ cowers?”

I let out a breath. The name sounded almost like an insult. “No,” I replied coldly. I was disliking more and more.

The elf gave me a skeptical look. “Certainly you do not expect me to believe that. What are the odds that another outsider has managed to find his way onto Elardia?”

I shrugged nonchalantly, taking note of what he called the place. “I have no idea, but I know for sure I’m the only one in the city right now. If I wasn’t they’d have probably stuck me with them. Instead, I get to wallow in a barn all by my lonesome. It’s a really boring existence when you’re the only one of your kind in a new place. Reading the same selection of books over and over again gets really tedious really quickly.” I could see the elf’s massive eyelids narrow as he stared at me. I did my best to maintain a neutral expression to hide the anger I felt within. I didn’t need to cause an outburst right now. Anger was not an answer at this moment. Suddenly, the elf smirked and his mood seemed to shift.

The elf turned away, staring about as he indirectly asked a question. “I suppose then you would not be terribly bothered if you granted us permission to search your meager abode. If you have no attachment to Almar’s lost whore and you are not harboring her then you would have no reason to protest our search.” I felt my own eye twitch when the elf said ‘whore’. The smug arrogance he was displaying was really ticking off. I saw the corner of his mouth creep up as he turned to Dubak. “Then again, perhaps you are not the right person to ask. What say you, Chief of Gashur? Do my men have your blessing to enter this outsider’s residence? I am certain Almar would look favorably upon you if you found and returned his plaything.” I felt my body tense as the elf casually described Amelia like an object.

I bit my tongue slightly, trying to resist the urge to lash out. “Don’t say anything. Don’t say anything Don’t say-” “I don’t think I like the likes of you entering what has become my home. I’m sorry, Dubak, but even if you gave permission I’m going to have to give the elves a no in that regard. So, I’m just going to have to ask you to pack up your army and fuck off.” “Son of a bitch. I told you to shut it.”

The elf froze, clearly shocked at my gall. The room fell silent as the head elf turned back to me. “And why is that?” He asked, quietly. “Do you have something that you perhaps wish to conceal from us? Does the solitary outsider possess something he does not wish for us to discover?”

I let out a low growl, heart thumping in anger. “Because I know your type,” I countered angrily. The elf gritted his teeth. I felt my own fist clench as I wanted to lash out, but I restrained myself and instead chose to spit venom. “There are a great number of things I’d rather not let you have access to. My home is just one of those things. I have nothing to hide, but you have no claim on what is rightfully mine. I also don’t appreciate you talking about something like slavery so casually. I find the trade abhorrent and would rather its merchant be obliterated from the planet.” I stared at the elf angrily, then turned to his army. “I have just as little regard for those that use force to continue the atrocious trade. The lot of you are nothing but cowards and scoundrels that are not worth the dirt on the bottom of my shoe.” There was suddenly a flash of movement and I recoiled slightly as a knife materialized at my throat, pressed against my skin. I turned to see the lead elf glaring up at me, his large metal dagger level at my neck. I heard the dragging of tables and saw a few orcs rise. I felt a jolt of pain as the leader pressed slightly. A wave of unease washed over me before I quickly stifled it. I had clearly touched a nerve.

The elf continued to glare up at me as he held the knife. “You dare insult Almar’s army?” He asked through gritted teeth. “We would have you as well if it were not for the savages you cower behind.”

I stared at him for a second let out a huff of amusement. “As I said before,” I replied. More orcs were starting to rise, drawing weapons. “Not very smart.” I gestured at the orcs that were rising to their feet. From where I stood I could see half a dozen of them and I expected a lot of others were doing to the same out of my line of sight. “You’re threatening someone in the middle of a veritable army of orcs.” The elf suddenly stopped and glanced around. “You’re unarguably outnumbered and if you haven’t noticed, I’m not cowering behind anything. I know they hate me, but given your association with Him and the death of their Chieftess.” I leaned towards him, accentuating my stature over him, causing him to step back, as the dagger pressed into my neck. “Not dumb enough to kill in a situation like this apparently.” “I think they despise you. Outsider or not, they’d probably fight by my side if you dared draw my blood like this.” The elf continued to grit his teeth, glancing around at the slowly rising orcs. “So I suggest you stop your posturing and get this toothpick away from my throat. Hell, I pretty sure I could crush you under my thumb if it weren’t for all that armor you hide behind.” I felt my heart pounding in my chest. I was risking life and limb on this bluff and even I wasn’t sure about my words. I’d reached the point of fuck it though. I wasn’t about to let him bully his way into getting Amelia, no matter how much authority I actually had. The elf glanced around as he seemed to consider the situation before finally looking up at me. I put on my coldest expression I could muster as I met his gaze and silently dared him to act. The atmosphere seemed to weigh down on me as the hall was filled with silence, each side daring the other to make a move. I felt a warm drop slowly slide down my neck as the dagger against my throat held firm against my soft and vulnerable flesh. The elf’s expression suddenly shifted and I felt a waved of relief as he took a step back and slowly lowered the knife. I resisted the urge to rub the warm trail drawing its way down my neck as I held the leader’s gaze. I felt a wave of unease as he continued to stare at me.

He stood still for a moment before suddenly sheathing his knife turning to the army. “LASHUL!” He roared. The army parted against as someone else made their way to the front of the crowd. A small blur emerged from the army and approached. He wore the same garb as the surrounding soldiers, but his helmet lacked the face-like mask of the others. I saw a glint of metal in his hand as it slipped into his cloak before emerging again, empty. The lead elf pointed at me as Lashul got close. “Do you recognize this outsider?” He asked. Lashul turned to me. I couldn’t make out a face, but I tried to stare where I thought his eyes would be. “He must be one of the elves that we met on our way here. You met exactly three, and of those three, only one of them wasn’t given a name.” I internally shook myself as I focused on the elf in front of me. Lashul scanned me slowly, whites of his eyes my only indication of where his attention was, then nodded. The leader appeared to grin as the elf confirmed his suspicions. “Don’t tell me they’re actually going to try and pull this property shit in front of me.” “And do you recall seeing him with our escaped canary?” Lashul looked me up and down again then nodded. The elf leader suddenly clapped his hands together and turned back to Dubak. “That settles it then. This outsider must be Almar’s other righteous property, the one he was meant to collect when his little canary vanished. Do I need to present more to convince you of our rightful intentions?”

I interrupted before Dubak could start. “I’d say so,” I growled loudly. Everyone turned to me again. I stifled a wave of anger as I chose my words carefully once again. “All you have is eyewitness testimony and a broken tracker. An eyewitness that’s likely on your payroll. It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than that to lay a claim on a fucking person. Your so-called master doesn’t own shit about me.” The elf gritted my teeth at that statement. I could feel the temptation to lash out rise again, but I turned to Lashul to start poking holes in his argument. “What about my features do you recognize?” I asked deliberately. I stared directly at him and I saw him back up slightly as I stared daggers at him.

Lashul seemed to hesitate at my question. “Y-your eyes,” He murmured timidly.

I raised an eyebrow at his uncertainty. “My eyes?” I asked again, pouring as much skepticism as I could into my words. He nodded. I let out a low sigh as I adopted a similar tone to Urog when I first met her, bored at the same string of words I repeated on likely countless occasions. “Believe it or not my condition isn’t terribly rare,” I said, looking in the general direction of the crowd. “There are about seven billion people back on my world. Of those, there are seven million that could have the same eyes I have, faults and all.” I turned back and stared at their leader. “If all you have to go off of is the color of my eyes then I’m going to vehemently inform you that that’s not enough to go on. If you think that’s enough to convince us to let you galivant around Snakhagr in search of a potentially non-existent outsider then you’ve got pretty low fucking standards.”

The elf gritted his teeth. “You’d dare defy us?” He spat.

I scoffed, hearing the angry desperation in his voice. “I’d defy you even if I had to stand alone,” I replied, staring him down. “Cause as I said before, you’d be crushed if it wasn’t for the powers you cower behind.” The elf seemed infuriated by that statement. I held his deadly gaze and matched it as best I could. I could hear him breathe angrily as silence filled the great hall once more.

Their leader finally let an angry bark and turned to Dubak. “Almar will not forget your insolence.” He spat angrily.

Dubak stared down the clearly infuriated elf and gestured towards the door behind them. “And Gashur shall not forget your threats this day. Now leave before my mercy runs dry.” The elf leader let out another low growl and angrily turned to leave, signaling the surrounding army to follow. The entire room watched in silence as the army turned on its heel and marched out the door it came it. I continued to stare angrily at the elves as the lines of armor crossed the threshold one by one. I felt a wave of relief as soon as the large doors closed conversation broke out. I felt myself collapse against the pillar and sink to the floor as the implications of my actions washed over me. A feeling of dread filled my stomach as I realized how close to death I could have been.

“Who does he think he is?”

“What will they do?”

“How could you let this happen?”

I shook my head and banished the uneasy feeling as I turned to grab my glasses and cloak. As soon as I picked them up and stood, Dubak was at my side, tusked bared in an angry snarl. “What gives you the gall to interrupt us like that?” He asked angrily. My heart continued to pound in my chest as I tried to calm it.

I looked at him with calm determination, feeling the adrenaline stifling my fear of what could definitely be painful consequences. “Compassion for my friends,” I replied firmly, putting my glasses on and fixing my hair.

Dubak glared at me. “Your sentimental attachments do not give you the authority to make decisions in my court. I should have rended you where you stood.”

I let out a calming breath as I leaned on the pillar again, feeling my still pounding in my chest. “I thank you that you didn’t and I’m truly sorry for what I did in defiance of your rule, but I saw your face when he made that offer.” I turned to look up at him. His snarl faltered as he saw my determined expression. “You were going to give Amelia to them. . . I couldn’t just stand by and let you do that. I might not have known her long, but right now she’s the only one I got.” I sank down to the floor again and stared off as my heart refused to slow. I began gently tapping a hand on my chest as I tried to calm my pounding organ. “I not sure what I’d do without her,” I said, stunned. I let out a slow breath as the orcs around us continued their chatter.

Dubak stood there silently for a minute before turning and sinking to the floor beside me. I heard him let out a low sigh as the conversation among the surrounding orcs continued. “Knowing Almar, his general will use this as an excuse to attack the city” Dubak finally said, leaning his head against the pillar. “Then again, he would have likely done it regardless for harboring his servant. . . There was nothing we could have said to stop him and there is nothing we can do now to prevent his assault. We cannot declare War, Gashur would not stand against Adympia.”

My heart finally started to slow as I thought about his words. There was no other outcome, but I definitely didn’t help the situation. I needed to keep a level head. “So what are we going to do?” I asked calmly, turning to him. “There must be something we can do against them. Armor or not, they got to have a weak point.”

Dubak’s bright violet eye locked onto me as he kept his head against the pillar. “Nothing can be done,” He replied coldly, staring ahead again. “He shall return and lay siege to the city. The most that can be done is to prepare the city and evacuate those we can. Once the assault is over it is merely a matter of rebuilding what was lost.”

I let out a long sigh as I stared and head an nodded. “So the only course of action is to try and minimize the damage he can cause. . . . . How long before he attacks?” I asked, turning to Dubak again.

Dubak’s brow furrowed as he returned the gaze. “I anticipate him to spend a week to amass an appropriate size army for such an assault,” Dubak replied cautiously. I kept the determined expression as Dubak continued. “That was his course of action the last time he came to Snakhagr.” I nodded as I locked my fingers together and began tapping my thumbs together. “Got a timeline. Now for a plan.” I closed my eyes and began visualizing the parts of the city I’d seen. The cobblestone roads and hybrid buildings stood out clearly as I tried to find a bottleneck to an assault. My mind was gradually drawn to the gate, strong, durable, but most importantly a near guarantee of a reduced stream of elves. Now I just needed a way to reduce the numbers before they get there. Dubak’s voice suddenly interrupted my thoughts. “What madness are you plotting?” He asked.

I let out a sigh as I slowly opened my eyes. “I’m going to help you.” I finally replied, turning to Dubak. “If there’s going to be an army attacking the city, I want to help defend it.”

Dubak gave me a skeptical look. “He has an army with outsider magic. We have barely what we had before, minus additional resources.”

I jabbed a thumb at my chest. “You have an outsider of your own.” I reminded him. “I’m partially responsible for this mess, I might as well help you clean it up.

Dubak shook his head dismissively. “What difference will one outsider make?” Dubak asked skeptically.

I tapped my thumbs together as my mind was drawn to the books I had in the barn. “All the difference in the world,” I replied thoughtfully.