Donnacha growled low his throat. “What do you want from me, Scáthach?”
She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table in front of her. “I want to see how the fabled dwarven warrior eats now. Are you like an animal, Donnacha? Do you feast with claws and teeth?”
Of course, he did. In the privacy of his own home, he did what he must to stay alive. He’d tried desperately to be human in the first few years of this form, but utensils didn’t fit in his paws. He had to use his claws to eat most things. He couldn’t hold onto bread like a man. His paws weren’t fingers.
He lifted the corner of his lip in disgust as he stared at the roasted pig in front of him. “Is this what you want then? To watch a bear eat in front of you?”
“I want to know just how bad the curse has gotten. I want to see for myself that you are turning into nothing more than an animal.”
Donnacha snarled then, baring his teeth in an angry sound and placing his paws firmly on the table. “I’m more than an animal.”
“Prove it then. Feast like a human.”
“I cannot.”
“Then are you really more than an animal? You used to be a dwarf. You remember how to use a fork and knife, don’t you?”
“I do.”
She leaned back in her chair, the picture of relaxation, but he saw the calculating look in her eye. “Then you think being human is a state of mind.”
“It’s a state of being.”
“Your being is clearly not human.” Scáthach gestured at his furred form. “What would you call yourself then?”
“Cursed.”
“Tell me of your curse. Who did this to you?”
The words immediately froze on Donnacha’s tongue. He couldn’t tell anyone about the curse. He couldn’t say anything more than he was cursed, or his entire body would freeze up. Thus, he could only stare at Scáthach in anger.
“How do we break this curse of yours?”
Again, he said nothing.
“How long are you to be cursed?”
Forever, he wanted to tell her. There was only one thing that could break this curse, and that was if someone could see through the mask of fur and claws long enough to stay with him for a year and a day. That was all he needed, a woman who would remain true for that long, despite what he looked like.
He didn’t really know the logistics of it. The Troll Queen who had cursed him had set the rules, and those rules were loose at best and could be manipulated. She wasn’t exactly the brightest woman in the world.
Donnacha shook his head. “I grow tired of these games, Scáthach.”
“So do I. And yet, you are the one who showed up in my keep, uninvited. You know how I feel about men arriving without my permission.”
Did he ever. From what he’d heard, Scáthach particularly enjoyed tearing men apart from the testicles up. He sniffed loudly and cleared his throat. “Yes, I heard the last one who arrived here and attempted to harm your trainees ended up being set on fire.”
“And where did I set him on fire?”
“Uh…” Donnacha tried hard not to laugh as he said the words. “I believe the rumor said it was the most precious jewels of his family.”
“There’s a lot on you that’s far more flammable than that man, I’ll tell you that, Donnacha. So let’s get right to the bottom of it so I can invite all my dear trainees in so we might celebrate living another year on the Isle of Skye. Just what do you want?”
That was why she’d everything set up while he was sitting in front of her. If she hadn’t, then they wouldn’t have gotten everything done in time for the feast. Now, she was going to be rushing him out of her keep, ready to entertain as though he had never been there.
Smart, he’d give her that. It was a ruse that had kept her women working and him sitting right in the middle of all that movement without a single peep.
“I need one of your women,” he said softly. No matter what words he said, they were going to come out wrong. He’d already known that. Donnacha had spent most of the trip trying to figure out the best way to ask her. “I can’t tell you why. I need the one whose hair is like sunlight, who could kill a bear, and who is renowned throughout the land as the prettiest fighter in the courts.”
He’d asked the Troll Queen why these were the requirements, but she refused to answer him. If he’d known more than that, he might have been able to spare the poor girl living with him.
Still, he didn’t want to end up as a bear forever. He wanted to return home to his people where they could feast like Scáthach and the warrior women were doing today.
More than anything else, Donnacha wanted to hug his brother again. He wanted to clap his hands on the shoulders of his cousins and family, to smell the salty earth of the mines, to dig with the rest of them and discover the most beautiful hidden treasures of the earth.
He missed being a dwarf. He missed his beard most of all, even though he had forgotten what his eyes looked like and the sound of his human voice. Not to mention his hands—
It wasn’t worth entertaining the thought.
Scáthach was staring at him in complete shock. He hadn’t thought he would startle her quite so much with the request.
Then she began to laugh. A roaring sound that shook through the rafters and sent a few pigeons fluttering into the air. “One of my warriors?”
“Yes.”
“What has gotten into you?” She slapped a hand down on the table, laughing until tears streamed down her cheeks. “Do you really think I’m going to send one of my women with you? Away to Fuar Bheinn? Alone?”
He waited until she stopped laughing. It took a long time since
