a charade with Lukor. Nothing more. An act. She would do what she must to ensure her people's survival. Even if it meant seducing a goliath of all peoples.
Ivy did not breathe easily until those trees guarding the lake were out of sight. Lukor's head was lowered slightly as he pressed onward at a swift pace. An unusual sight. Normally, he held his chin high, almost regally. Who is he?
"Sent a message to your people?" she asked, and bit her tongue until it bled. Speaking before thinking was a flaw of hers her mother had never managed to stamp out before dying.
"What did you do why we parted briefly?" he returned. "You keep rubbing your stomach, and not because it is satisfied."
"I found no food." None she could eat, that is. The thought of eating goliath thigh had occurred to her, but she had been worried enough Lukor could smell the stench of his people upon her clothes. She did not need it on her breath as well.
"You should have asked for more." He handed her the remnants of his bear-dog kill.
She enjoyed it as they continued their trek, although it had been cooked more than she liked. Still, its juice exploded in her mouth, the meat easily crushed between her teeth, sliding down her throat to her waiting stomach.
"Thank you." Her smile came easily, the first non-forced one.
He did not return it. "I did."
It took her a moment to realize what he meant. She inhaled sharply. "Gave them word of my whereabouts?"
Could she believe him if he denied it? Surely not.
Lukor motioned for her to scale a hill in front of him. She hated taking the lead but complied.
"A friend sent me an update."
"On which issue?"
Silence answered her. After they crested and descended two more hills, she said, "Thank you for not lying to me."
He chuckled. "No answer is better than one you won't believe."
Did that mean the message and his reply truly hadn't concerned her? Was this all a ruse? An attempt to earn her trust? She would never trust a goliath. She would never trust another barbarian for that matter. 'Twas an impossibility.
Sill, silence was preferable to an outright lie.
Her full stomach gave her increased endurance and strength, and soon, the goliath was running to keep up. Shortly before the violet sun set, they stood before the mist outlining the border of the Spirit Realm.
She so wished they could have taken another route, but every other one tacked weeks, if not a month, onto their journey. They had no choice in the matter. Time was a great enemy of hers.
Her breathing hitched. What had once been a barren wasteland, the elves had converted into a cloud-like mass, a foggy haven for unrest souls. Most everyone who died was trapped within the Spirit Realm. Some thought no other afterlife existed, but considering some elves had surely died prior to the creation of the place, Ivy did not believe those rumors.
Still, most, if not all, of those souls were dangerous despite lacking earthly bodies. Some persons who ventured into the Realm never left. Others were never the same — went mad with grief or professed their deceased loved ones had given them insights into the future. To believe them most often resulted in death.
The goliath beside her stepped forward. "Are we not going now?"
Ivy nodded. "We are."
He held out his hand toward her, his meaty palm up. "We must not lose track of each other once inside."
Surely the rope from her belt could do the same. Nevertheless, she tried to smile easily as she touched his hand. Firm. Warm. Not altogether unpleasant. She'd read stories of holding hands and kissing and more. Never understood the appeal. Still did not, for that matter, but perhaps she did not disdain it quite as much as she had previously.
His eyes were upon her, so she nodded again, but before the fog could descend and veil them, she pulled back on his hand. "Is there anyone inside who will wish ill of you?"
"Can anyone living answer that in the negative?"
He had a point. She persisted, "Who has gone before
Ivy did not breathe easily until those trees guarding the lake were out of sight. Lukor's head was lowered slightly as he pressed onward at a swift pace. An unusual sight. Normally, he held his chin high, almost regally. Who is he?
"Sent a message to your people?" she asked, and bit her tongue until it bled. Speaking before thinking was a flaw of hers her mother had never managed to stamp out before dying.
"What did you do why we parted briefly?" he returned. "You keep rubbing your stomach, and not because it is satisfied."
"I found no food." None she could eat, that is. The thought of eating goliath thigh had occurred to her, but she had been worried enough Lukor could smell the stench of his people upon her clothes. She did not need it on her breath as well.
"You should have asked for more." He handed her the remnants of his bear-dog kill.
She enjoyed it as they continued their trek, although it had been cooked more than she liked. Still, its juice exploded in her mouth, the meat easily crushed between her teeth, sliding down her throat to her waiting stomach.
"Thank you." Her smile came easily, the first non-forced one.
He did not return it. "I did."
It took her a moment to realize what he meant. She inhaled sharply. "Gave them word of my whereabouts?"
Could she believe him if he denied it? Surely not.
Lukor motioned for her to scale a hill in front of him. She hated taking the lead but complied.
"A friend sent me an update."
"On which issue?"
Silence answered her. After they crested and descended two more hills, she said, "Thank you for not lying to me."
He chuckled. "No answer is better than one you won't believe."
Did that mean the message and his reply truly hadn't concerned her? Was this all a ruse? An attempt to earn her trust? She would never trust a goliath. She would never trust another barbarian for that matter. 'Twas an impossibility.
Sill, silence was preferable to an outright lie.
Her full stomach gave her increased endurance and strength, and soon, the goliath was running to keep up. Shortly before the violet sun set, they stood before the mist outlining the border of the Spirit Realm.
She so wished they could have taken another route, but every other one tacked weeks, if not a month, onto their journey. They had no choice in the matter. Time was a great enemy of hers.
Her breathing hitched. What had once been a barren wasteland, the elves had converted into a cloud-like mass, a foggy haven for unrest souls. Most everyone who died was trapped within the Spirit Realm. Some thought no other afterlife existed, but considering some elves had surely died prior to the creation of the place, Ivy did not believe those rumors.
Still, most, if not all, of those souls were dangerous despite lacking earthly bodies. Some persons who ventured into the Realm never left. Others were never the same — went mad with grief or professed their deceased loved ones had given them insights into the future. To believe them most often resulted in death.
The goliath beside her stepped forward. "Are we not going now?"
Ivy nodded. "We are."
He held out his hand toward her, his meaty palm up. "We must not lose track of each other once inside."
Surely the rope from her belt could do the same. Nevertheless, she tried to smile easily as she touched his hand. Firm. Warm. Not altogether unpleasant. She'd read stories of holding hands and kissing and more. Never understood the appeal. Still did not, for that matter, but perhaps she did not disdain it quite as much as she had previously.
His eyes were upon her, so she nodded again, but before the fog could descend and veil them, she pulled back on his hand. "Is there anyone inside who will wish ill of you?"
"Can anyone living answer that in the negative?"
He had a point. She persisted, "Who has gone before
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