Chapter 7
Seven
Astrid
Astrid wasn’t sure what she had expected from these trolls who had spent years fighting in the labyrinth.
Perhaps cruelty and enjoyment in harming others.
Perhaps she had thought they enjoyed killing, as so many warriors ended up doing.
But the trolls had helped her. They’d helped each other as well.
The humans? The remaining few alive were all knotted together in little groups. They watched her with hungry eyes, but she was no longer worried that they were a threat.
The troll dripping in blood beside her certainly made it far more difficult for those humans to lay a finger on her.
Clutching the threads that held her dress together at her shoulder, she kept herself covered while the doors opened.
It seemed the warriors knew what to do as they turned as one and trudged out of the arena.
Clearly, they were tired. It was like all of a sudden the fight just drained out of them.
Shoulders hunched, energy gone, they moved listlessly through the open doors.
This was the part she had never seen from above.
No one even looked at the arena after the fight was over.
Those watching all turned to each other, talking as they always did about work or politics or new marriages.
She hadn’t ever looked to see what happened with the bodies, or noticed that there were people coming out of the doors as well. Workers who were...
She gagged, turning her face away from the carnage as she realized those people were here to drag the bodies away. They looped their hands under armpits or gathered up lost limbs and just walked off with them.
“Do not look,” Bjorn said. He even lifted a massive hand and covered her face so she wouldn’t be able to see what they were doing.
But then all she could focus on was the blood coating his fingers that was starting to dry.
Astrid tried to look anywhere else, but then she looked down at herself and saw all the red that stained her dress.
Splatters of it had sprayed up during the fight or dripped off the trolls that had been looming over her.
Her head swam. Sparks floated in her vision, making it difficult for her to see what was around her. So much blood. So much pain. The injuries that were in this room were all mortal, it seemed, and many of them were caused by the troll she had tied herself to.
This was dangerous. Far more dangerous than she had thought.
He gestured for her to follow him, nodding toward a door that led into darkness. Astrid knew she didn’t have a choice. She’d trained her entire life not to fall apart like this, and that training was what she drew around herself like a veil.
She paused only when he reached for the mask covering her face and gently nudged it up over her nose. When had that fallen? She didn’t remember. Perhaps when she’d been making a fool of herself, moaning like a harlot.
“Hide your face, Priestess,” he said. “For a little while longer.”
Following him into the pitch black was horrible.
Her heart beat so fast she thought she was going to pass out.
Her legs were shaking, and she knew that wasn’t a good sign.
What would happen if she hit the dirt? Would those workers gather her up with the rest of the dead bodies, uncaring that she was still alive?
For a moment, she regretted this decision.
But there was no going back to her old life.
She had been so rash in thinking this was the right thing to do.
Astrid knew better than to make decisions like this without thinking.
She was the one who always took her time to ensure that every plan would work out, no matter the outcome. But in this, she had rushed right in.
Berating herself didn’t help. Especially walking by the rooms still full of noblemen.
Lord Tolly stood very close to the bars, his face nearly white with emotion as he watched her stride past. She could feel his gaze on her face as she held her head up high and walked with the trolls and bloodied men, all the warriors trying hard not to bump into each other.
The guards led the prisoners to the doors, but she did not go into the one she had originally left. Instead, the guard out front just gave her a little shake of his head and then pointed for her to go with Bjorn.
The troll didn’t even look at her. She had to follow the silhouette of horns ahead of her as they meandered through what felt like a second labyrinth before he finally stopped. The guard pulled his cell open, and then she entered the domain of the Bull.
It was hard not to shudder. Or maybe that was just the chill in the air. She wore barely anything to keep her warm, and last night she had been so terrified, she hadn’t been thinking about how cold she was. But now, she couldn’t stop shivering.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she noted the single cot, the threadbare blanket on top, a cup in the corner, and a bucket at the opposite end. Quite a life she was meant to live here.
The door with the bars beckoned. She immediately went to the window, looking out into the hallway and praying that there would be a view of anything useful. Keys. A marking. A way for her to get her bearings because she had no idea where they were.
There was nothing but the same view as the other cell. Doors that were endless as they traveled down the hall, and guards that stood at attention.
A pale face appeared in the opposite cell. A man who looked at her with pity in his eyes and cruelty on his lips. “What a sad thing that a creature like him won you. You know that he’s known for killing his prizes, don’t you?”
She stared at him, saying nothing. A man like this didn’t deserve her attention, but it was hard to ignore him.
“I’ve heard them every time he wins a fight. The women beg and plead, but he doesn’t listen to them. You hear them shrieking and crying, then a quick snap and it’s all over with.” The man’s hand reached through the bars of the window and pointed at her. “You’re next.”
Warmth settled over Astrid’s shoulders. She flinched back from the window, grabbing onto the blanket that Bjorn had settled over her shoulders. He shook his head at her, then retreated to the back of the room. “Don’t listen to him.”
“Is it true?”
He stared at her, those eyes reflecting the meager light from outside of the room before he lifted one shoulder.
Crouched as he was, with his back pressed against the wall, he appeared to be some creature out of a nightmare.
Like a warped shadow she would see hunched there after waking from a nightmare.
She was frozen where she was. Unsure how to proceed now that she was not only unsafe but also in his domain.
“Then what does he speak of?”
“The women in here...” He hesitated before continuing. “Life is not good for those who are given to people like me. They beg. I give them what they want.”
“They begged you to die?” She needed to be clear about this. She needed to know that those women had asked to be killed, and he’d just...
If she wasn’t careful, she was going to vomit.
Astrid hadn’t eaten or drank anything in the better part of a day, and she’d be lucky if she could force anything out of her body at all.
She needed to rest. Just for a few hours.
Uninterrupted sleep would help her think, but she wasn’t sure she would ever get that in this place.
“They asked for a way out,” he murmured. “I gave it to them.”
There it was. The entire world tipped over until she had to grope for the cot and sit down heavily.
The blanket slipped off her shoulder and pooled in her lap as she stared down at her shaking hands.
She could feel how pale her face must’ve been, how little blood was in any of her appendages because he just admitted to killing many women.
Women like her. They’d been looking for a way out of this labyrinth, just like she was going to ask of him, and instead, he had killed them.
She really had made a foolish mistake in trusting him. He was a killer, and she had known this before she had ever thought of this plan. Everyone in this place had long ago lost what made them men and women. They were animals now, through and through.
He moved slowly. Like he didn’t want to startle her, not just that he didn’t want to catch her attention. He reached for the cup in the corner, precariously placed in a strange way, until she heard the slosh of water as he lifted it.
He shuffled a little closer, and she marveled at his posture. His shoulders were curved in, and he kept himself somehow lower than her, even with the massive horns on his head. He looked at the ground, not her, as he held out the cup for her to take.
“Why are you giving me this?” she asked, although she took the water because she desperately needed it.
There wasn’t much in the cup. Just enough for three mouthfuls, most likely. She sipped as much as she dared before handing the cup to him.
He shook his head, then tried to give it back. “Drink, Priestess.”
“You need water as well.”
“Not as much as you.”
“You were the one who fought off countless men for an evening with me.” She swallowed. “More than an evening, I suppose. From what the guard said, I am yours now.”
Bjorn seemed uncomfortable with that. He shuffled where he was, the muscles of his shoulders bunching and releasing before he set the cup down on the ground by her foot and retreated back to his corner.
His movements were awkward, so very inhuman but also unlike the trolls she had seen before. Even now, he tapped his head with a fist right below his horns and said, “People can’t own people. I remember that much.”
She was about to argue that the king quite literally owned all of them, but his words made her thoughts catch. “You remember? What do you mean by that?”