Chapter 1: Paige

Acrid smoke stings my nostrils as I move up the steep hill in a slow crawl. There’s no sound but that of ravens cawing with delight over their huge feast. Honestly, I’m not sure what the orcs and dark elves are accomplishing with their turf wars other than feeding the birds. They are all going to be some fat fuckers after all this.

A battlefield between two immensely powerful races of beings is probably the last place a human woman like me should be. Especially considering I’ve brought along my ten-year-old sister, who’s currently hiding in a copse of trees at the bottom of this hill.

Make that she’s supposed to be hiding. I can see her little face peeking out from behind a tuft of waist-high grass. She ducked down among the bent and drooping blades when she sees me looking back, but she’s a second too late.

I grimaced, but there’s not much I can do about it. Not until I know what’s waiting for us on the other side of the hill. We saw the lights and heard the clash of the armies when we were hiking through this area yesterday.

It seems like the battle is done, but that doesn’t mean it really is. I have to look over the hill and make sure we’re actually alone. If there is even one solitary dark elf or orc, we’ll turn back and forget it.

If, however, the coast happens to be clear, we can scavenge the battlefield. There’s a surprising number of useful items left behind when two armies clash, and if you’re clever and patient, you can pick them up for yourself.

Of course, you have to deal with the smell of burnt flesh and the occasional rotting body, but this is a harsh world, and you do what you must to survive.

I reached the top of the hill, my hands gripping a half-buried limestone rock for support. I pulled myself up enough to peer over to the other side. I’m expecting carnage, and I am not disappointed.

The battle was fought in a valley that was probably pleasant beforehand. An orcish war machine lies on its side, all but one wheel busted off and half-burned into a charred, black mockery of its former function. Several fires are still burning here and there, one of them a pile of corpses. I make a mental note to stay upwind of that particular gore. The dark elves take their warriors’ bodies back while the orcs mainly burn them on the battlefield, taking only the sometimes-broken weapons back to be given to the next generation.

And as for humans, we usually burn our dead because nobody has the time or patience for burial any longer.

I glance over my shoulder and see Laney peeping out from behind the bush again. I motion for her to come up and join me as I stand up. Laney makes it up the hill even faster than me, her spindly limbs moving like cyclones.

“Wow,” she says when she stands beside me. “You weren’t kidding when you said it was a big battle. I wonder who won.”

“It’s hard to tell. Come on, let’s get what we need and get out of here before any more scavengers come along.” I sigh. What is the use of fighting every battle with Laney?

“You have a sword. I have my knife,” she says, brandishing a knife so tiny it could only be dangerous to a rabbit. “Let them try to take our stuff.”

I grimace at my sister, putting my hands on my hips. I hate how this war has made Laney grow up so fast.  I sometimes don’t even recognize her anymore. 

“I have a sword, yes, but I hope I never have to use it. You should hope that too. Don’t go looking for trouble, sis. You’ll always find it.”

“You sound like Grandpa.”

“Grandpa was smart. And so are you when you remember to stop acting like some epic hero in a story.”

The wind shifts, and the plumes of smoke drift our way. The smoke obscures the hillside we stand on like the fog of war. I start down the slope before I get a good whiff of the pile of burning corpses.

Laney follows along behind. Her prattle diminishes the farther we get down into the valley. At the bottom, she goes into a grim silence. She may be scrappy, but standing knee-deep among the dead is going to put a damper on anyone’s spirits.

We carefully pick our way through broken swords, sundered spears, and bits of metal armor, most stained with blood. The flies are going crazy on some of the bodies. One orc corpse has so many flies covering it that it appears as black as midnight.

I come upon a wagon upthrust from the ground. A pile of dirt and jagged rock protrudes from the covered top, making the whole thing sit askew.

“What happened here?” Laney asks, her voice unnaturally loud in the deathly quiet.

“Shh,” I say, holding my finger to my lips. I respond in a soft, quiet tone. “It looks like dark elf sorcery to me. They can make the ground come up like that under their enemies.”

“Cool.”

“No, not cool. Not if you’re on the receiving end.” I intertwine my fingers and squat to give Laney a foothold to step into. “I’ll give you a boost up. See if there’s anything worth salvaging in there.”

She puts her foot in my stirrup hands, and I lift her until she disappears over the edge. I hear her thumping around.

“It’s pretty dark, but I think I can rip a hole in the canopy to let in more sunlight.”

A ripping sound, then Laney gasps.

“There’s a bunch of salted jerky in here.”

“Salted jerky?” My belly grumbles. We’ve had nothing to eat for days but roots and berries. Protein sounds like the cure for my trembling limbs. “Start tossing it down.”

We stack the jerky and some hardtack bread too. The bread is not appetizing in the least and requires half a waterskin to wash down a mouthful, but it’s sustenance, and I can’t bear to leave it behind.

“Okay, that’s enough.” I put my hands on my hips and stare at the collection we’ve amassed. “That’s all we can carry up the hill at once. I think we should load it on the wagon and get on the road north.”

“Why north?”

“Because the army that won this battle headed south, judging by the tracks.”

We carry our burdens up the hill and down the other side. I’m glazed with sweat by the time we make it to the bottom. Our wagon has seen better days, but it still functions. Ditto for the old onager that pulls it. The donkey brays and flicks its ears in worry.

“What’s wrong, girl?” I ask, putting my hand on her neck.

“Maybe she doesn’t like thieves.”

I turn around quickly, one hand falling to the hilt of the curved sword I don’t even know how to use. A group of six orcs stands nearby, all of them wearing black leather with splashes of crimson. I know the symbol on their armor, a wavy red line with a fanged mouth. The Red Wyrm Clan.

Not one of the orc clans that live peaceably with humans, not by a long shot. I wouldn't be so worried if it were the Crimson Sun Clan.

“Laney,” I whispered so only she could hear me. “I want you to run. Now. As far and as fast as you can.”

“But I want to help ...”

“Remember what Grampa said?” I snap. “I’m in charge. Now run! I’ll find you later.”

Laney gives me a withering look, then turns and bolts up the hill toward the battlefield.

“Neska, go get the little one,” one of the orcs says. “She’s just about the right size for the stewpot.”

“You won’t touch her!”

I manage to draw the sword without looking like a total novice, but as soon as I hold the awkward weight in my hand, I feel more afraid, not less. The lead orc laughs and looks at his band with a big grin on his face.

“Oh no, whatever will we do? I guess we’d better surrender before this fierce warrior slays us all.” His sarcasm is enough to make the other orcs laugh.

“We just want to be left alone,” I say, my voice trembling and my knees shaking badly. The lead orc casually walks toward me, his weapon still at his side.

“Now, come on,” he says. “All you’re going to do is make things harder on yourself.”

He holds out his hand, palm up.

“Give me the sword.”

Poor choice of words.

I swing the sword down with all my might. The orc leader withdraws his hand, but not quickly enough. He screams as two of his fingers fall almost noiselessly to the grass, rapidly staining the green to red with his blood.

I try to finish him off, but two more orcs are on me before I can take a full breath. One of them batters the sword right out of my hand, leaving my whole arm numb. The other grabs my shirt collar and throws me into the trunk of a tree.

I fly backward, and then everything gets hazy for a bit. I think I passed out a couple of times, but I keep forcing myself awake because of Laney. By the time I’m cognizant enough to put two thoughts together, I’m staring out the iron bars of a cage, and Laney is sitting beside me.

I gasp and touch the side of her head. There’s a red welt there. The orcs knocked her out brutally. I guess if they want to eat her, they don’t care if they scramble her brains.

I fear the orcs are going to do even worse with me than they will with her. I reach into the secret pocket sewn into my pantaloons. The knife is still there. They didn’t even bother to search me.

I draw the knife, not to use on the orcs, but to use on Laney and then myself. It’s the only way I can spare her the suffering that’s sure to come.

“I’m sorry, Laney,” I whisper under my breath as the orcs fuss about with our wagon. They remove everything of value, including the onager, and then set it on fire with a lot of whooping and hollering.

I worked hard to find and repair that wagon. It’s taken us thousands of miles, and now it’s going to burn to ash.

It’s not fair. Nothing has been fair for us humans since the orcs and dark elves invaded. All we can do is try to mitigate our suffering.

Like I’m going to do now. This is what I promised my grandad on his deathbed. That if the time came, I would not allow myself and Laney to be captured. I would set us free in a way that could not be undone.

I hold the knife to my sister’s snow-white throat. My vision blurs with tears. I can’t bring myself to do it. I can’t.

I stuff the knife back in the secret pocket and hold my sister tight. Tears stream down my face. The orcs think it’s hilarious. My pain and misery are entertainment for their lot.

I don’t even care anymore. Nothing matters. I can’t bring myself to fulfill my vow because I can’t bear to kill my little sister. I could probably turn the blade on myself with less effort. There’s no way I can take the easy way out and leave my little sister to suffer.

What are we going to do?