“You know… for protection.”
Protection? Really?I gawked at him. “Protection from what? What the hell do you think is going to attack us out there? A butterfly?”
Laken deadpanned, “There could be a wolf.”
I huffed. A wolf.Is he being serious?“Well, I hope that dagger saves us. I’ll be sure to yell for help so you can rescue me.”
My teacher for the day rolled his eyes and shook his head as he finished his drink, while I’d just started mine. The light coffee hit my taste buds, and my problems faded away. If Laken had always been good at anything—it was making coffee.
Unfortunately, the mugs were set down. We had business to do. I stood by his side as we stepped through the door, and immediately things felt different. Silence, not pissed off crowing, filled the air and all creatures rested, awake but calm, in their enclosures. I followed Laken to the feed storage, and unlike me, he went for the chicken pellets first.
“You feed the hellblazers before the rest?”
He scooped some into the bucket. “Yeah, if you don’t, they get pissed, and they’re more short-tempered than the rest.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, “caught on to that.”Obviously.
Both of us carried a bucket of food and Laken nodded toward the horizon of the pasture. “They wake up when the world wakes up.”
They wake up when the world wakes up.I could’ve gagged. “Yeah? Do you recite that on poetry night at Goldie’s?”
He threw a look at me, then smiled. “You never were a morning person.”
“Yes,” I grumbled and hobbled behind him as he walked faster than me. “Well, I’ve never been a people person, either.”
“I know.” I couldn’t see him, but the pep in his tone sounded too happy.
Right.
We approached the coop. The war zone. The bloody, battered battlefield.
He set his bucket down, so I did the same. “Alright.” He faced me. “The trick to each of these creatures is to act as one of them.” I frowned as he continued. “I’m here to teach you, so go in there like you’re one of them.”
My head cocked. “You’re joking, right?”
Laken stood unfaltering.
“I have to be a chicken?”
Laken nodded.Mother-clucker.No wonder I’d had so much hell these past several days. Standing there in regret and anticipated shame, it came as a surprise when Laken squatted a bit and walked like… a chicken. Bobbing his ass out and doing whatever the hell they do with their necks.
No.
Clucking.
Way.
I covered my mouth. There was no way.What the fuck? I swear to the clucking Gods.I closed my eyes, knowing this had to be the worst outcome possible. But the faster I learned, the faster Laken left. So I squatted my legs and bobbed my way in.
Carrying the buckets made it more difficult than I’d expected; they kept hitting my bent knees. My clammy handsand sweating pits didn’t help. At some point, I guessed I’d grownslightlyscared of these assholes. Keeping a keen eye on all corners, edges, and feathered bodies, my heart didn’t relax until I made it out. Safe. Fine. Unscathed. It actually worked. They didn’t even stir. Not a beak out of place.
Laken nodded with a surprised grin. “Not bad,
McCarthen, not bad.”
I did it? I did it. My cheeks burned as I tried not to smile back, but I couldn’t help the curl of my lips. After days of suffering, it felt as though a weight lifted from my shoulders.
“Let’s go to Finneas and Finnigan next.” He nodded back to the storage, and I followed. For once, I admitted he knew more about this than me.
