Nirrin (Forestfolk, Book 3)

Chapter 4a

I stood outside the small cabin the next day, hands on my hips, staring down an uncomfortable Galen. "Have you even been feeding the poor man?"

Galen rubbed his short, dark beard. "He won't eat or drink. He's a stubborn beast."

"He's a man, and his name is Fenrook."

Galen narrowed his eyes at me. "How do you know that?"

"I asked him."

His lips twisted with annoyance. "We asked him too. He wouldn't say a word."

"Did you try giving him water?"

"He wouldn't take it."

"Did you try not pointing accusing fingers at him? Maybe treating him like a person?"

An annoyed expression crossed Galen's face. "Nirrin, he came with dangerous intent. I can feel it."

"Dangerous how?"

"That is what I need to find out."

We stared at each other longer. Backing down was not one of my strong suits. "He'll talk to me."

Galen pursed his lips in thought. Sighed. Rubbed his beard again. "Perhaps you can find out what we need."

Yes!

"But you are not to be left alone with him."

No!

I was about to protest, but he was already leading the way inside. I followed.

The guy was exactly where I'd left him yesterday, still bound to the chair and bedpost.

"Hi!" I greeted.

The barest hint of a smile tipped one corner of his mouth as he lifted his eyes to me. It disappeared quickly when he glared at Galen.

"How about some more water?" I offered.

Stony silence.

"A corn cake, maybe?"

He stared at the wall.

I pressed my lips together. I hated being ignored. "How about I strip off my dress, right here?"

Both men cut incredulous stares at me.

"Oh, good, so you didn't go deaf." When he returned his gaze to the wall, I turned to Galen. "I can't talk to him with you here. I mean, I can, but it'll be like talking to a spoon. Or a pinecone. Or a—"

"All right!" Galen exhaled a breath. "I'll be outside."

"No eavesdropping." I pointed at him for emphasis. "I mean it! Otherwise, there's no point in you leaving."

A muscle popped in Galen's jaw, but he said nothing as he left.

When the heavy curtain stopped swinging, I turned back to Fenrook and smiled.

He continued staring at the wall.

I sat on the floor in front of him and waited.

Unfortunately, waiting wasn't one of my strong suits either. "What was it you were saying yesterday?" I prompted.

He tilted his head like I was the curious creature instead of him, then schooled his features as if he'd just remembered something. "I will not tell you any more than I already told him." He jerked his chin at the doorway.

I gave him a sardonic smile. "Uh, I have news for you: you already did."

His jaw clenched, and his eyes—which in the daylight I could now see were brown—shuttered.

"Aw, come on! You were about to tell me I looked like someone you knew!" I waited. "Weren't you?"

This prompted him to contemplate my face. I sat there, hoping he would start talking.

He didn't.

"Fen, I'm not—"

"Fenrook."

"Right. I'm not one of Galen's lackeys." I hoped Galen wasn't eavesdropping. The man didn't have lackeys. He was actually a nice guy.

"Then why are you here?"

Realizing how stupid my reasons would sound, I looked away and scooted my butt to a more comfortable position on the floor. I was curious. Plain and simple. I had come to visit a possibly dangerous Gifted prisoner because a small child had told me about a snake man.

"You're not a snake man at all," I blurted.

He frowned at me, and I realized that I sounded idiotic. As idiotic as sneaking a visit to a dangerous prisoner in the middle of the night.

I decided to press on. "Benzi—he's one of the children I watch—said he saw a snake man with big fangs. Or was it one of the other kids who mentioned the fangs? Anyway, someone said something about fangs." I peered at his closed mouth. "You don't have fangs, do you?" I didn't wait for an answer. "Anyway, I decided to see for myself what they saw."

"And?" he prompted, which surprised me.

"You don't seem snake-like to me. Snakes have scales, and these don't look like—" I reached out to touch his bare, banded shin, which protruded from tattered brown pants.

He shifted away from my touch, and I dropped my hand.

"Well, anyway, you're no snake." I noticed he wore no shoes either, and no shirt. His entire body was covered in those thick bands of grayish-brown armor. A sudden thought entered my mind. "Do you ever get cold?"

He blinked at the sudden change in topics.

"I mean, do you ever need to wear anything more than pants?"

He studied me again, as if trying to figure out my angle. "Not during summer, no."

"And in winter?" I stared at the segments on his leg, wondering if they felt the same as the ones on his chest.

What a curious-looking fellow. I'd be full of questions too. And votes.