“The Gods will be hearing about this for the rest of their eternity. Cruel and unusual punishment for what? Being alive?”
Maggie grinned, leaning back on her hands. The sun crept between her curls and warmed her brown skin. “Is this what growing up is?” she joked. If anything, I could be thankful for my friend and the fact she found my sense of humor to be funny. Being friends with someone feels weird sometimes because they become such a big part of our lives and one day you just… separate. Forced to do life on your own.
At least we had a good three years together and only lived a couple hours’ carriage ride away. I could run away to Dirty Hoes if I needed to; Maggie would be there waiting. Our visit ended quicker than I wanted, but it wasn’t wasted.
And she’d given me a lot to think about.
A silence fell between us, the anticipation of our goodbye rising and simmering quietly but not without threat. And once it boiled enough, it’d burn.
“Promise me something, Reece.” Maggie picked grass from the ground. “These people here aren’t me; they can’t read your mind. You’re going to have to ask for help when you need it.”
I wanted to puke. “I’m going to be fine, Maggie. And if I really need help, I’m sure the fisherman down the street wouldn’t mind—”
“Reece!” she called, giving me an I’m-serious frown.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on it,” I said, and truly meant it.
I would work on it.
One day. At some point. In some life.
From my gate, I watched Maggie’s carriage drive off, leaving me to myself and my creatures. Standing there for another moment, I inhaled deeply and exhaled for as long as my lungs allowed. I wasn’t used to watching her leave. But the feeling was familiar, so I shoved it back into my little mental keepsake box and turned on my heels.
Seeing Maggie had been exactly what I needed, but the leaving part left me feeling bitter. Sad. Unsure. Old Ashton remained with her, while Honey Brooke tolerated me, if you’d call it that.
Slipping into the house, I stared at the stone walls andwindows—and let out a deep groan. Sometimes I needed to yell a bit; it made me feel better as I grabbed a jar of healing cream and resumed my daily to-dos.
Perhaps my bitter heart searched for a bright side, but as I inched into Phoebe’s enclosure for her weekly medicine treatment, she seemed more welcoming than before. Dare I say, I thought she might evenlike me.
“Alright, Phoebe,” I started soft and knelt by her pink, cushioned bed. Her little head and inky eyes flicked up, heavy and tired from her sleep. From a cup by my leg, I pulled out some of her favorite snacks—berries and corn—to hopefully help keep her calm. Phoebe strutted to me with ease, not even trying to hide in her little princess house. Curling against my knees where I sat, she rolled right over for me. No disappearing or anything.
Had I befriended a porcupine?
According to my father’s journal and Laken, Phoebe had arrived two weeks before I did, which made sense for her anxiety levels. Unfortunately, her past had left her skin pretty raw and needing help to recover if we ever wanted her quills to grow back completely. She had a few here and there, but the vast majority remained injured.
The irony was not lost on me. This little porcupine princess with a pink bed had enough poison in her body to take down an army. Twenty could be killed with just one quill. Attacking the body’s muscles first, then the heart, it’d be a quick death.
All the more reason to keep her from the poachers.
I’d never done her treatment on my own; Laken had shown me once before, but he made everything seem easy. With her mouth full of blackberries, I twisted the lid off our healing cream from Finneas and Finnigan, along with a tube of antibacterial ointment. She paid me no attention as I rubbed it on, slow and easy so as not to press on her raw wounds. Some healed fast, but because Phoebe was Phoebe, she’d accidentally reopened them.
“See? I don’t need help.” Maggie’s words replayed in my mind. “I just needed a tutorial and some patience. I can do this on my own.”
Phoebe flickered her attention to me with a questioning side-eye.
“Okay, fine, and some cooperation. Thank you.” She laid her head back down as I finished up. “I mean, he is helpful to have around, but… do we really want that? What if he decides to vanish again? What if he decides he doesn’t really like us that much? It’s been three years. I could’ve changed too much. Phoebe, what if he leaves us crying in our bed again? I don’t want to cry in my bed. For anyone.”
I didn’t know if porcupines could laugh, but Phoebe did. Or huffed, maybe an annoyed growl.
“You’re right,” I surrendered, patting her belly. “It’s definitely a bad idea. I have other things to worry about.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The day after Maggie left, I ran through the field with two goats scuttling along at my sides as rain spilled from above. Dark clouds rolled in, and the smell of rain was strong. The air, muggy and humid, made me feel disgusting. My hair clung to my skin. My shirt clung to my body. And I clung to hope as Laken gathered the hellblazers. Trotting forward one muddy step at a time, my boot got stuck. My foot slipped out and my sock grew soggy as I wobbled. Stumbling over, I caught myself just before splattering face-first into the ground. As mud rose between my fingers, I cursed the Gods.
Moaning and groaning, I stood. I wiped my filthy hands on what might well have been ruined pants. Grabbing my boot, I hobbled forward in the rain.Come on, Reece. It’s justrain.Well, if so, it sure did rattle my nerves. My first storm as the new keeper and I hadn’t a clue on how to handle it.
Finneas and Finnigan knew where to go as we reached the porch and they sprinted for their enclosure, covered and safe from the weather. Basically diving for the concrete, I bent over my knees and panted, still breathless as Laken approached. My heart pounded, my teeth ground against each other. This sucked.
