Page 25 of Agor the Merciless (Orc Mates #10)

Agor walked to the center of the clearing, where the grass was lush and green. He knew it was a trap, but he no longer cared. They’d tried to avoid it, and it had led to disaster. This had to end now. He stood straight and shouted:

“Grak, face me now! Stop hiding behind your traps and spells!”

No one answered him. No birds called, no leaves rustled, no one spoke. Agor walked back and forth, his feet making paths in the grass. His hand went to his sword and pulled it free.

“You fought beside me for years. We crossed from our world to this one together. We battled humans side by side until peace came.” He kept turning as he talked, watching the trees for movement.

“We shared meals and plans. The horde trusted you. What changed you? Did power matter so much? Every orc gets old, every orc loses strength over time. Even I will grow weak one day. But we accept this and teach the young ones what we know.”

The clearing stayed quiet around him. It drove him mad, because he knew the old mage was watching and listening, enjoying the show, essentially.

“My mate suffers from your curse. She did nothing to hurt you. She never even met you. A human who tried to build a new life with us. She fights for every breath while your poison runs through her blood. You attack the weakest among us because you fear facing me. You hurt a human instead of bringing your grudge to me directly.” Agor spat on the ground.

“A true warrior doesn’t hide behind magic and tricks.

If you have any honor left in your body, come out and face me now.

Just you and me, as men, with blades or fists. ”

The quiet lasted for another minute, then the mage’s raspy voice came from somewhere above. The orc captain looked everywhere but couldn’t see him.

“Why should I, captain? I enjoy watching you fail.”

Agor moved into a fighting stance and gripped his sword harder. The metal felt cool in his hand as he breathed the heavy air that seemed to push against his chest. He raised his voice at the unseen speaker who talked from all directions.

“You want to watch me fail? You want to play games? I will break apart this mountain with my hands. I will search every cave and crack until I find where you hide. Stone by stone, if that’s what it takes.”

No answer. Agor waited, tension building inside him, but saw no movement anywhere.

The tree trunks didn’t move, the dirt under him stayed firm, and the healthy patch of weeds and shoots seemed harmless enough as he stomped on it.

He took a breath to shout again when the view in front of him began to change.

The air moved like heat waves without warmth.

The edge of the forest became less clear, the dirt and plants beneath him started to blur and fade.

Agor blinked as his skin tingled from the magic in the air.

When he looked again, the woods had disappeared.

A stone wall now stood where trees had been moments before.

It rose so high that Agor had to look up to see the top.

He touched the stone to make sure it was real.

The wall went left and right as far as he could see, with steps cut into the middle that led up to a cave halfway to the top.

A gnarled silhouette stood at the entrance with a staff in hand.

Grak the Bitter looked down at them from the cave entrance.

His skin had turned a darker green as he’d aged, and his eyes sat deep in his face.

His clothes hung loose on his body. He was not as big as Agor remembered, but the staff he held gave off light that came from the life he stole from the land and from Zoe.

“So serious, captain. Always rushing into battle, always thinking with your fists instead of your mind.” He tapped his staff against the stone. “Come up here, then. Climb to me and beg for your human’s life.”