Grunt! Grunt! Grunt! Ethan's eyes fluttered open. His head was throbbing like a blacksmith's hammer on an anvil. He tried to move, but couldn't. Not only was he too weak, but something heavy also held his body down.
Cold metal chains bit into his wrists and ankles, pinning him to a hard, stone chair. Ethan's dry eyes recognized the walls and the braziers. His nose smelled the damp moss smell. He must still be in the white caves.
Grunt! Grunt! Orc faces loomed over him, grunting at him with hostility. Panic seized the boy, his heart lurching in his chest.
Were they Garkash's goons? Had they caught him after Luka's abduction, ready to tear him apart for betraying their assassin squad?
"Where's Queen Voltha?" a gruff voice barked, disrupting his spiral of thoughts.
