Legends & Lattes (Legends & Lattes #1)
Viv buried her greatsword in the Scalvert's skull with a meaty crunch. Blackblood thrummed in her hands, her muscular arms straining as she wrenched the blade free in a spray of gore. The Scalvert Queen gave a long, vibrating moan… and then crashed to the stone in a heap.
With a sigh, Viv slumped to her knees. The persistent twinge in her lower back flared, and she dug the knuckles of one massive hand into her spine to chase it away. Wiping sweat and blood from her face, she stared down at the dead queen. Cheers and shouts echoed behind her.
She leaned closer. Yes, there it was, right above the nasal cavity. The beast's head was twice as wide as she was—all improbable teeth and uncountable eyes, with a huge, underslung jaw—and in the middle, the fleshy seam she'd read about.
Jamming her fingers into the fold, she pried it open. A sickly golden light spilled out. Viv slid her whole hand into the pocket of flesh, curled her fist around a faceted, organic lump, and yanked. It came free with a fibrous tear.
Fennus stepped up behind her—she could smell his perfume. "Is that it, then?" he asked, only mildly interested.
"Yep." Viv groaned as she hauled herself to her feet, using Blackblood as a crutch. Without bothering to wipe the stone clean, she stuffed it into a pouch on her bandolier, then rested the greatsword on her shoulder.
"And that's truly all you want?" Fennus squinted up at her. His long, handsome face wore an amused expression.
He gestured at the walls of the cavern, where the Scalvert Queen had entombed untold wealth within sheets of hardened saliva. Wagons, chests, and the bones of horses and men hung suspended amidst gold, silver, and gemstones—the shiny castoffs of centuries.
"Yep," she said again. "We're square."
The rest of the party drew near. Roon, Taivus, and little Gallina brought with them the exhausted but exultant chatter of victors. Roon combed muck from his beard, Gallina sheathed her daggers, and Taivus glided behind them both, tall and watchful. They were a good crew.
Viv turned away, striding toward the cavern's entrance, where dim light still filtered through.
"Where are you goin'?" hollered Roon, in his rough, affable voice.
"Out."
"But… aren't you gonna–?" began Gallina.
Someone hushed her—likely Fennus.
A prick of shame stung Viv. Gallina was her favorite, and she probably should have taken the time to explain.
But she was done. Why drag things out? She didn't really want to talk about it, and if she said anything more, she might change her mind.
After twenty-two years of adventuring, Viv had reached her limit of blood and mud and bullshit. An orc's life was strength, violence, and a sudden, sharp end—but she'd be damned if she'd let hers finish that way.
It was time for something new.