“Is it true the panthers cook bad little boys into their meat pies?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Only thereallybad boys.” I wink, and Zan races off with a squeal.
Cara smiles. “You’re good with them. The children, I mean. They all love you.”
“They haven’t had a chance to learn hate yet. I’m sure if they were older, things would be different.”
Her smile fades, and she looks off into the distance. “I wish we all could be so innocent again. Start fresh, with no prejudices. No poisonous tales filling our minds with hate.”
I nod. “It would be nice. Imagine if both sides let go of that.”
“Someday, when I’m back on the throne, it’ll be like that. I’ll fix things.”
Much as I would love to agree with her, I find it hard to fathom. Getting back to her seat of power will be a daunting task in itself, and I doubt she could mend a generations-long rift between our peoples that easily. I don’t doubt that she’d try, but success seems unlikely given the current state of our world.
A rustling in the underbrush draws my attention, and I pause to peer through the branches. I recognize panther tracks in the dirt, though whoever was there has disappeared. The convent must have become aware of our presence and sent one of the acolytes to check us out. I wonder who they sent. Timmeh, for instance, is a reasonable young man, but if they sent Gem it’s likely that he’ll tell outrageous tales of a pack of vicious wolves marching towards the convent.
Never mind that they’re all unarmed and exhausted.
I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me. In addition to guiding the wolves to the convent, I have to somehow convince Father Aron that they mean no ill will, that we’re refugees from the remaining Elders. I also have to beg his favor and ask for shelter for our group. Food. Clean clothing. Given that the hate between our species runs both ways, that might take a while. I imagine he’ll demand that we camp outside the convent walls at first, only offering the stalest of bread and the moldiest of cheeses.
I hope that the nuns who raised me can help me ease Father Aron into the idea of housing the wolves. Orra and Lily, twin sisters who have devoted their lives to the worship of Igni, might be panthers, but they’re the most reasonable women I’ve ever met. Surely they’ll help me talk to Father once we get there.
The one thing I don’t mention to Cara, the thing that might be most important of all, is the why of my leaving the convent.
She doesn’t know yet, and I don’t know if I can ever bear to tell her.
We make camp at sunset, and my stomach churns as I wait for enough wolves to fall asleep that Cara can open up about what’s bothering her. I settle down a good distance from the fire, hoping that she’ll feel more comfortable away from the others. I suspect that whatever she wants to talk about is something she doesn’t want everyone knowing.
Finally, when most of the others have fallen asleep, Cara sits next to me. Silence stretches on as I wait for her to start.
“So …” She blushes and bites her lip.
“So.” I pick up a fallen leaf and start shredding it. My nerves are on edge, and the small act of violence on a dead thing seems to calm them a bit.
Cara clears her throat and scoots a bit closer until our hips touch. She leans into me and wrings her hands together. “I—I wanted to talk. About the dungeon.”
Still not sure where she’s going with this, I simply nod. “Go ahead.”
“I … When the guards dragged me off … When they took me out of my cell, I—That is, Corvin—He was waiting.”
Ah.Thisis what she wanted to talk about. I’d worried she had discovered my secret, but it appears she just wants to tell me what he did. “I know.”
Her face crumples, and I put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.
“He—he—It was just sobrutal!”
“Shh. It’s over now, Cara.”
Like the breaking of a dam, Cara’s words flood me as she describes her ordeal. She spares no details, and I shudder to think what might have happened to me if my powers hadn’t broken through the spelled chains when they did. For Cara, someone unaccustomed to abuse, it must have been unimaginably terrifying.
Corvin didn’t just take her; he broke her. He humiliated her in front of the guards, used her, and then watched as they beat her for her supposed crime of sleeping with me.
Once she’s finished with the gruesome details and I think there couldn’t possibly be any more, she continues. She tells me of her newfound aversion to men, how even her childhood friends terrify her. She unloads her fears, and I sit quietly and absorb it all like a sponge. Outwardly I don’t react, but inside my rage boils over.
I was too easy on Corvin. I should have done more than burn the bastard; I should have incinerated him. There should have been nothing left of him but ash.
I’ll have to remedy that the next time I see him.
