Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
MAIA
Maia watched the blood bath before her with hatred burning in her chest. There was a time in her life when she would have been just like Rose standing next to her—shaking like a leaf, willing to do whatever it took to be given to the kindest person here.
But she wasn’t that woman any longer. She was going to fight until there was no more breath in her lungs. She would battle with any person who tried to touch her, troll or not. Just as Ragnar fought for her down there. She watched him as he killed countless people with a fury unmatched.
So Maia stood, and she watched. She marked every single injury that happened to her people, and she kept faces in her memory. Every person in those stands would die by her hand or her order. Every single noble who thought it was fine to put anyone in a situation like this where they had to fight to stay alive. Human or troll. Both were so incredibly wrong.
She committed to memory the faces of the women standing beside her. Each one of them was weary. They had likely been here a long time. Each one of them deserved more than to live like this, wondering when they would finally die.
At first, she thought the king would look at her. Perhaps he would goad her, saying that this was what she got for returning. But he didn’t. She was so beneath him that he never even looked at her. He just drank his wine, spilling it all over the floor as he gestured at the deaths that were taking place in the labyrinth he had built.
Maia wanted him dead. She wanted him writhing underneath her foot as she ground her heel against his throat. And then she wanted Ragnar at her side, to watch her mate kill him in the most gruesome way a talented troll like him could think of.
She wasn’t sure how long the whole process took. Only that she stood there until her legs were aching and turning purple. But she endured. Watching every single death so that she would never forget this moment.
Until the guards moved up behind them. Then she looked over at the king, who stood and raised his hands. He shouted, although she wasn’t sure how anyone could hear him over the crowd’s cries for death.
“And that concludes the fight of the labyrinth! Those who are alive, I will gift you a prize for the evening!”
He gestured to the line of women, and Maia could only hope that she would be given to Ragnar. She’d seen him down there. She was going to get to him. No one could stop her.
The guard she’d spat at grabbed her arm and gave her a little angry shake. “You’re the one who wanted the troll, weren’t you? Come on, bitch. Let’s see if you’re as angry once you spend an evening with one of those monsters.”
“They aren’t monsters.”
“This one is,” he muttered, dragging her away from the others.
Rose tried to catch her hand, though her fingers slipped through Maia’s. “Be careful, Maia!” she called out. “He’s killed everyone else!”
Killed everyone else? What would lead a troll to do that? All the trolls she’d met valued the lives of women far more than just to… kill them. She staggered after the guard, disappearing into the shadows that blinded her after standing in the bright lights for so long.
Before she even knew where they were, the guard was already shoving her in a direction with an angry grunt. “Good luck, troll whore.”
And then there was only silence. She stood very still, waiting for her vision to come back. If this had been Ragnar’s cell, she was certain he would already have gathered her up in his arms. Which meant this wasn’t Ragnar’s. Which meant.... It could be anyone.
Taking a deep breath, she started with honesty. “If you’re one of the trolls I came with, then know I am Ragnar’s troll wife.”
A rustling noise came from the corner. Slowly, ever so slowly, she turned her head to look at the troll who crouched in the corner. He had his back to her, and there were horns stretched over his head. Not features she’d ever seen in their kind before, and that was enough to give her pause. She had an idea who he was, and how dangerous he was.
But she’d heard the other women whispering about him. The Bull, they called him. And he’d certainly torn through every single person who’d tried to fight him. Even Ragnar, although they had both stopped at the last second. Much to the disappointment of the surrounding crowd.
He shifted a bit more, and the light caught in his eyes, an eerie glowing green staring at her over his shoulder. “Don’t scream.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“I don’t like it when they scream.” He seemed almost to be talking to himself as he straightened.
By the gods, he was big. Bigger than any troll she’d ever been around. He was so much taller than she was, broader, and with more rippling muscles that were painfully on display. But she could also see his ribs. Too many of them. Too easy to count because he’d been starved for so long.
He took one lumbering step forward, awkwardly moving. She feared other women might have thought he was lunging at them, but she could see he was limping. His right leg was so stiff, he could hardly walk, let alone approach her without looking terrifying.
She stayed where she was, not screaming or allowing herself to even feel fear. She let him come to her, as slowly as he needed to.
And when he stopped so close that his chest almost brushed hers, she looked up at him. “My name is Maia,” she said. “I’m Ragnar’s troll wife.”
He leaned down, all deadly intent and flashing eyes. Closer and closer until she could feel his puffing breath against her face. “They gave you to me.”
“A troll wife cannot be given to anyone other than her husband.”
It seemed to shake him out of whatever state he was in. One moment he was glaring, and the next, he let out a long breath that sounded like a sigh. He curved in on himself, all that anger draining out of him until he took two of those staggering steps away from her. Gesturing to the cot, he finally said, “Sit, troll wife.”
She still wasn’t certain if he would harm her. Rose’s warning ran through her head a little too loudly for her to trust this troll. After all, he had killed other women.
But, as she perched on the edge of the cot, she remembered he had asked her not to scream. That he didn’t like it when they screamed.
Perhaps that was part of the issue. The women they tossed in here reeked of fear. They screamed when they saw him, antagonizing every animalistic part of him just by existing. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have as much control as the other trolls.
A low, keening sound echoed in this throat. “You smell of fear now. Why?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know you. This is a unique experience for me.”
“I would not...” He blew out a long breath. “I do not want to harm a troll wife.”
She noticed the word switch and the way he emphasized the words “do not”, as though he needed to convince himself that they were true. He didn’t want to harm her, or at least, some part of him didn’t.
So she forced herself to relax, tried her best to drain all thoughts of fear from her mind, and watched as he limped to the corner. He had to bend awkwardly to reach something on the floor, though she couldn’t see what it was in the shadows. Then he was limping back to her with a small brass cup in his hands. It was dented on all sides, making it almost impossible to tell what it once might have been.
But it was full of clear water. He awkwardly knelt in front of her again, holding the cup out with clawed hands.
“A troll wife should always be offered refreshments,” he seemed to murmur to himself. As though he had to remember the rules for all this. “They drink before we do.”
Swallowing hard, she reached for the cup in his hands. But instead of grabbing it, she touched the gnarled claws that tipped his fingers. They were curled in toward his palms. Sharp-tipped and cracked on almost every single one, they looked painful.
His hand trembled under her touch, but he remained where he was. Painfully crouched there, his bad thigh already shaking, but allowing her to touch his sharpened nails like this was normal like he should expect her to do this.
“My heart bleeds for you,” she whispered. “You should never have been here this long, warrior.”
“I was taken many years ago. This is my life now.”
“It’s not your life. You don’t have to stay here any longer than we let you. The trolls have come to take you away.”
He looked up at her, his dark hair falling in front of his features as though he wished to obscure what he looked like. “I wouldn’t know how to live outside of this place, troll wife. It has been too long, and I have been too damaged.”
Yet again, her heart squeezed. The things that had been done to this man, to all the people here... they were wrong. So incredibly wrong.
Maia hesitated. She reached for his face and cupped his jaw in both of her hands. This man had seen too much pain and torment and deserved a soft touch. She tilted his face up to look at her, smoothing his hair away from his features so he could see her well.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“Bjorn,” he replied. “Although I did not remember it until Ragnar reminded me of a life before this.”
She knew that name. Ragnar had told her stories about him in the dead of night, but he’d thought that this friend was dead, not that he was just missing.
“I’m sorry they let you stay here this long,” she said quietly. “But if they had known you were alive, they would have fought until their very last breath to get you back. I hope you know that, Bjorn.”
She could see the pain in him. The ache that he wanted to believe her words but also was terrified to believe them.
“I have kept myself alive for many years on the anger at my own people for dooming me to this fate,” he growled. “You’re asking me to let go of the very thing that kept me alive.”
“I am. Because it is not the truth that’s keeping you fighting. If you wish to fight, if you wish to help us, then you can. But if you have given up all hope for your people, then I understand that as well. You are a good man, Bjorn. Or you once were. Whatever you have done to stay alive does not make you any less of a good man.”
His dark eyes stared up into hers and she saw something break. Some bitter part of him that had remained just so that he would continue fighting shattered at her words.
“I have been here for many years. There are few ways out of this place without being caught. I have found... one way.” He straightened, but then placed the cup in her hands. “It will not be easy, but it is a way out.”
“You know how to escape?”
“I know how to get some people out while one person remains behind. It was my idea to leave myself, but...” He took a deep breath. “If what you say is true, then that means the trolls will come back for me. They will know that I am here and help will eventually come.”
Oh no.
No, she couldn’t ask him to do this.
She stood, the cup shaking in her hands. “This was your escape, you mean?”
“I have been planning it for many years. Just waiting for the right moment.”
She took another step closer. “I can’t ask you to give up your freedom for everyone else here. You know that. You’ve been here for far too long, and asking you to do that…”
“You can ask it. Because you are a troll wife and if anyone can ask me to do so, it is you.” He nodded toward the cup in her hands. “Drink. You will need your strength.”
“Where did you even get water?”
He nodded toward the wall. “We are near water, but not enough that it flows freely. I gather it for days and then have a single cup to drink.”
She stared down at the water he had given her. His single cup of water. She had no idea what it was like to not drink for days, but she knew she wouldn’t survive it. She took one mouthful of blissfully cold water before holding it out to him.
Bjorn shook his head. “Drink it all.”
“I can’t do that. When was the last time you drank?”
A low chuckle filled the room. “It has been a long time since I have had water, but trolls are hardier than your people. We can go many days without water or food. I will not die, but you might.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s not a choice anyone should have to make.”
“No, it isn’t. But it is the one I make in honor of your husband who saved my life.”
Again, her heart hurt. Because that wasn’t at all how Ragnar remembered it, and she desperately wanted these two to have a moment where they could clear the air. And perhaps, a lot of the guilt they carried between the two of them would finally disappear.
She drained the cup and then sat back down on the cot. “All right. What’s the plan?”
“There’s a portion of wall in the labyrinth that is flimsy. A group of trolls crashed through it in the early days, and I know for a fact they didn’t rebuild it strong enough. The only problem is that a group of trolls and yourself will need someone standing in the way for you to get all the way out. Once you’re out of the castle, the trolls should be able to fight their way out.”
“How were you going to do that on your own?”
He flashed her a grin that revealed a missing canine. “I was going to run very fast.”
“You were going to get killed.”
“Maybe. But at least then I would be free.”
She swallowed hard. “All right. Tell me everything you know about this section of the wall, where it is, and how long it’s going to take us to get through.”
“You really aren’t afraid of me,” he murmured.
“I’m a troll wife.” Maia laughed a bit before trying to get herself together. “And this is rather an unusual circumstance, isn’t it? It feels like a story people would tell in Trollveggen to scare their children at night.”
He hummed low under his breath and then used a curled claw to start drawing on the floor. “Let me show you the labyrinth, Maia, wife of Ragnar. And together, we will make a plan.”