House of Vultures

by Maggie Claire

  Siri paces closer to me, a grim expression on her face. “Iris, I told you that Suryc and I are coupled. However, I neglected to share that it is customary for our Cadogans to join as well.”

  “What?” I fumble for a reply as her words sink in. “You’re saying that you expect me to love Suryc’s Cadogan? That I’m bound to him, just as you are bound to each other? You cannot be serious!”

  “Do you realize how antiquated that is? What gives you the right to choose her mate for her? Do you think she’s too stupid to choose a good man?” Wolf challenges the black Ddraig, one hand reaching for his sword.

  “It has nothing to do with the human, little fool! And I do not explain myself to you.” Suryc howls with enough power that Wolf is forced to step farther away from the creature. “Your leadership position may intimidate the rest of the people in this land, but it means little to me. I’d think twice before I drew that sword at your hip unless you want to burn.” Suryc’s fiery breath heats the ground at Wolf’s feet in warning.

  “But you explain yourself to me, Siri! Why should you choose who I love?” I cry, my eyes searching the crowd for the person blessed with Suryc’s Dadeni bonds.

  “Iris, when I showed you my memories of Suryc, did you not feel my love for him? Did you not feel some emotion yourself toward him? And wasn’t I the one who suspected your feelings toward the Wolf?” Siri questions, waiting to continue until I nod my acquiescence. “You and I are bonded so completely through Dadeni that there is little room left in our hearts. It is the same with all other Cadogans too. Because of this, your heart will naturally turn in the same direction as mine and vice versa.”

  “Meaning that because you love Suryc, I will come to love his Cadogan,” I finish, feeling a hollow pit in my stomach. What if Suryc’s Cadogan is a complete stranger? What if he’s a monster like Creeper? What if—?

  “That’s ridiculous! You can’t possibly have that much power over each other!” Wolf shouts angrily.

  “You don’t have a say in this matter, I’m afraid.” Wolf’s heart falls to his feet, trampled in the mud as an all too familiar voice repeats, “Ddraig to Ddraig, blood to blood, their hearts will bond if they’re meant to love. I am sorry, Brother Mine. For this change in our circumstances, I truly am,” Condor rasps, his eyes wide as he steps up beside Suryc. His ebony etched hands stroke the Ddraig’s scaly chest lovingly, and when Wolf inspects the traitor binds, only a charred board remains.

  Chapter 13

  Fate is cruel. I have known this ever since the death of my family. I have known this every time I’ve taken the life of an animal so that my housemates could survive. But this—this is beyond heartless. This is Fate’s outright declaration of war against me. “There is no way that I will couple with Condor,” I snap, glaring at the male as I lunge for Cane’s side. His hand entwines with mine immediately, as if that feeble gesture will somehow negate the Ddraigs’ claims. “I don’t care what you say, Siri. I will never see him as anything more than a monster! How can you choose him, Suryc? How can you possibly believe Condor is a good man?”

  “Cyrus. I figure since Suryc just engulfed me in flames without burning me to a crisp, my true name is the least of my worries.” He edges up on my other side, and I shift closer to Cane’s body in desperation. Please no, I pray to whomever might be listening. Anyone but this animal.

  “The choice is made, Cadogan. I am truly sorry that it distresses you.” Siri whispers her apology stiffly, almost as if it is only for my benefit and not heartfelt at all.

  “And what if I refuse Condor as my second?” I cannot even force myself to consider coupling with him. The very idea turns my stomach and sends chills down my spine. My voice emphasizes his masked name to make my point for me.

  “I’m no knight in shining armor, but I am not the epitome of evil either.” Condor grinds his teeth as he speaks. “Not that you’ve ever cared to notice.”

  “Oh yes! That’s the same story that the whip marks on my back tell me every night too! Why, you aren’t a bad guy at all, are you? Just misunderstood, with a heart of gold.” This time Condor has the where-with-all to keep his mouth shut. Cane’s lips brush my temple, a rewarding kiss for my outburst.

  “If you refuse Cyrus as your second, then he will challenge you for your right to lead. Siri and I will have to fight to determine who controls the Ddraigs. One of us will have to kill the other,” Suryc explains solemnly, his tail entwining with Siri’s in an effort to comfort each other.

  The thought makes my blood run cold. Could I do that? Could I ask another creature to kill his or her lover just because I do not like the hand I have been dealt? Am I that selfish? I think of how it would be if the roles were reversed. I’m not even sure of what I feel for Wolf, but the idea of killing him makes me sick. How can I ask Suryc and Siri to do that? The memory of Siri’s affection for Suryc fills my heart with a bitter longing.

  “Wolf?” I face my friend and ally, using his masked name for his own protection. Other eyes still watch us from the shadows. A hundred emotions color my voice as I wait for his response.

  Instead of words, I feel his fingers slowly extract themselves from mine. He paces over to Suryc’s enormous head with a furious glare. “My brother is my twin. How can he be Ddraig blooded while I am not?”

  Suryc smells the air around Cane once more, his nose crinkling. “There is a poisonous scent with you. Your blood is sour. I smell the Cadogan blood, but something stronger has overpowered it. You were changed somehow at a young age, I think.”

  “It was Father’s doing, I am certain. You always had a blind eye for him,” Condor remarks with a tone of regret and old hurt. “He turned you against me because he did not want me around. Blame him.” Condor taps the scar on his chin, running his finger along its ridge like a caress. “I’d bet all my money that the day you changed was the day you gave me this.”

  “If that is true, then how are you still scot-free? You’ve beaten and tortured so many of us that I’ve lost track.” I sneer at my former leader, jerking away from his outstretched hand as he attempts to brush my shoulder.

  “I never wanted any of it to happen though. I did what I had to do to keep the House in working order, that’s all. I never enjoyed hurting you, Mynah.” Cyrus turns an accusing eye toward Wolf. “Yet my brother here can’t say the same, can he?”

  “Well, neither can I,” I murmur, remembering how I relished Creeper’s death, dragging out the torture of his body to repay him for his evils.

  “No, it is something else,” Siri interrupts as she breathes in Wolf’s scent anew. “It reminds me of the eastern winds when they bring snow down from the Devil’s Spine. It’s something from Déchets that has poisoned him.”

  ***

  Before a bitter response forms in my mind, the world around me bursts with strange lights. The surrounding area fades away and becomes a clearing near the Devil’s Spine. I can see their jagged peaks against the watercolor sky, fiery oranges blending seamlessly with soft pinks and the faintest whispers of the indigo night. Cane and I stand together in a campsite, his fingers tightly gripping my arm. The vision shifts, and I see a tent’s fold pulling away to reveal Condor’s broken body. I cannot see if he lives or is dead, but I feel sorrow building in my heart.

  “Cyrus,” I hear a voice whispering as my sight fades to white. “Hold fast to your path, and you will find success. What your heart truly desires will be yours, so long as you stay honest and faithful.” The voice shouts with agony, and I feel the strain in my vocal chords.

  I see Cane’s unmasked face standing in a land that I do not recognize. It must be Déchets, I conclude as he surveys the vast terrain before him. “What do you bring to me?” An unfamiliar voice questions from behind us. When I turn to see who speaks, everything fades to darkness. My next words spout uncontrollably out of my mouth with their cryptic meaning. “Cane, your future may not be directly connected with the Ddraigs, but your importance far surpasses what we see.”

  ***
>
  “Look at Mynah’s eyes! They’ve gone completely white!” Someone shouts as they point at me.

  ***

  Murmurs break out around us, but I hear little of what they say. My head fills once more with images that I cannot explain, some flashing so quickly that I cannot comprehend their meanings. Wolf standing alone on the shores of the ocean, an army of men and women at his back. The insignia of the House of Piranhas and other minor houses fade and twist into the symbol of the House of Wolves. A mask fissures and gets thrown onto a bonfire, and a voice screams at the sight. Wind gusts along the Devil’s Spine, human forms dancing into our lands. A single flower withers and falls into the dust. And a final quote from Wolf’s deep, gravelly voice. “Destroy them all.”

  ***

  When I am pulled out of the images, I find myself in Condor’s embrace. His fingers repulse me as they press into my neck to check my pulse, and I shove myself away from his side, enduring the waves of dizziness that crash into my stomach. “What has happened to me?”

  “It seems there is more to you than meets the eye, Iris.” Siri snorts, forcing the air around me to smoke. “You are a Gwen, a truth reader. You’ve seen glimpses of the events to come. We will work on this together one day, improve and hone your skills so that what you ‘read’ are more than fragmented moments that have no set meaning. For now, say your goodbyes, and let us leave this place. Cyrus, you will return to the Pith with us. We will train you and Iris together as leader and second. Leave the Wolf here to follow his own path.”

  Cyrus wordlessly joins his Ddraig, waiting for me as Cane bundles me close to his chest, his lips poised over my ear. “You are mine, Iris, and I am yours. Everything that I do now will be to get you back.” He lowers his lips to brush against my collarbone, exactly in the same place where he first kissed me. It seems a lifetime ago now.

  I have no words in my heart that Cane hasn’t already heard, so I stay silent. I take no comfort in his touch. Already I can feel Siri’s love for Suryc as if it was my own, and the emotion makes me shudder as I examine Condor. How could I ever love a man who had beaten and abused me so? No number of apologies can ever repair my back. Nothing can erase my memories.

  “Go to the House of Piranhas. Get them under your command. I freely give you my claim to the House of Vultures,” I announce loudly enough that the masses around us gasp and mutter.

  “Yours has got to be the shortest leadership in the house histories.” Cane’s eyes wrinkle into squints as he tries to understand.

  “And the least bloody, I’d add.” Despite the humorous turn of my words, my heart is not in it. I do not have the strength even to smile.

  Wolf seems to realize this, growing serious. “You want me to attempt to build a Master House? How will that help us?”

  “I see you becoming king, the first true king of the Déchets,” I reply, a feverish fire roiling in my blood. “Get the people’s support. Become their leader, and then maybe we will find a way to change our fates.” It is an effort to tear myself out of his gentle arms, even harder to shuffle close to Siri. How can I face this future? My mind cannot fathom my actions as I reach for Siri’s claws, letting her pull me away from my House for good.

  ***

  When we finally drop into the crater of the Pith, I cannot find the will to breathe. Siri and Suryc set us in the heart of the giant cavern before wisely disappearing into the catacomb-like maze of tunnels that offshoot from the entrance. I can feel their attachment to one another, and it makes me sick to my stomach.

  Condor—Cyrus, I should say—remains close behind me, waiting for me to speak first. Yet I have no words. Everything I knew has been ripped away from me once more. I am alone, and panic rises like my stomach’s gorge to my throat.

  “We should probably learn to at least talk to one another civilly.” Cyrus clears his throat when I do not respond. My hands wrap around my elbows for comfort. “Iris—”

  Hearing my name gets a reaction from me; I spit my words at him in vicious waves. “To you, I am always Mynah. Never say my true name to me again, understand? I hate you. I don’t care what Siri says—I am never going to love you. I do not have it in me to become some moony-eyed sap for a liar like you. You abused me!”

  “I never held the whip, Mynah! I couldn’t do it! I was never able to raise a hand against you—”

  “But you didn’t stop her either! I will never be able to forget that. So, do not play friends with me now, you bastard.” How desperately I want to run my knife through his heart! The only thing that stops me is the thought that I might end up hurting Suryc. The black Ddraig has shown me nothing but kindness so far. It’s not his fault he’s attached to a monster like Cyrus!

  “It was a part that I had to play to keep control, Mynah. It was just to remain the leader!”

  “Which was my right too! You stole that from me, and while you might not have held the whip, every scar on my back was made with your approval. I will never consider you my ally, my friend, or my lover.” My hands pull at my hair in frustration. “Forget it. You just keep your space, and I’ll stay in mine. We’ll do what we must for the Ddraigs, and that’s all!”

  “And what about my brother? He will never stop coming after you.” Cyrus’s shoulders slump in defeat.

  “Good! Because when he finds a way to free me of this binding, I will leave you behind without a second glance. There is nothing that you can say that would make me change my mind.”

  Cyrus’s head raises then, his unscarred eyebrow arching at the challenge. “Really? I bet I have a couple of words that could rattle your low opinion of me. See if any of this sounds familiar: one day you will dance among the stars with your moonbeam hair trailing to earth to light my path.”

  Cyrus watches me expectantly, his jaw working as a memory hovers in my conscious mind. A young boy and his brother laughing outside my house as they frolicked. The images are murky from the years that have passed since I reviewed these memories. I’d never been allowed to join them when I was growing up. But one of the boys had noticed my face pressed against the glass….

  ***

  “Why so glum, chum?” The boy called as he straddled a tree branch as thick as his middle. He’d stolen his way up a tree to my bedroom window. I’d been crying; one of the many times that my mother and I had fought over my freedom. I hadn’t understood the dangers lurking outside my door.

  I had craved children’s conversation, so the chance to talk to the stranger pulled me from my sorrows immediately. “I’m not allowed to play outside, ever! My mom says there are evil things in the woods.” I tearfully explained my woes to the boy.

  He did not laugh or think I was stupid. “I don’t know about anything that scary, and I have lived in the forest forever.”

  “What’s it like out there?” I whispered, drinking in the sound of the other boy’s voice. He stayed in the tree as the sun danced across the sky and told me of all the strange places he and his brother had roamed. I’d been so entranced by his stories that I had not noticed the stars popping into sight until the boy started climbing down the tree.

  “I wish I could go with you,” I moaned before the boy got away. He’d turned his face back to my window with a smirk, and said those exact words that Cyrus now repeats to me.

  ***

  No way. That little boy was kind. He was gentle and good, thoughtful and sweet. He came to my window every day for a month. It broke my heart when he stopped appearing in the woods. I’d always assumed something dangerous had found him at last. “You were the boy at my window?” I reel at the thought, my mind dizzy.

  “The kindest hearts can also be the cruelest if they are spurned,” Cyrus answers, a faraway look painfully clouding his gaze. “But I have never forgotten you, child of the moon. That’s what I used to call you in my dreams. I thought of you every day after I was hurt. I imagined all the stories I wanted to share with you, but I never got the chance. When I found you again after everything had fallen apart, when you joined the Hou
se of my father, I desperately wanted to tell you the truth. But I had my own battles to fight first, and a vicious role to play in order to survive.”

  “And Warbler? You let Creeper—”

  “I didn’t. Falcon had been directing his moves for months without my knowledge. I think she was planning to overthrow my leadership. Had I known that Creeper was such a vile creature, I would have ripped the mask off his miserable carcass myself. I am truly sorry for what happened to her.”

  “You let me kill your own father.” The idea is so unbelievable that I can barely form the words.

  “My father loved you, so I can see your side of the argument. But he hated me, Mynah.” Cyrus lifts his shirt to reveal a giant patch of scarred, burned flesh along his chest over his heart. “My father did this to me in an effort to ‘kill my kindness’ when I was nine years old. He believed that it was a weakness, and I would end up dying anyway. When his ministrations did not work, he tricked my brother into hating me too. Cane believed my father’s lies, and in an effort to find approval, he put this scar on my face. But his sword was blunt, and the wounds weren’t deep enough to kill me. Probably the Ddraig blood kept me alive.”

  The scars and their stories bring what little food I have left in my stomach to my mouth in a heave. Not for the deformity of the wounds—they are old and faded from time, and my mind is so desensitized to grotesque sights that I do not even flinch. But the idea that a father, that my beloved Hawk, would do such a thing to his own son, repulses me.

  My head is fractured, disconnected from my heart. My limbs feel remote, their movements jerky as the panicked sobs build inside me. My breath quickens its pace, a scream pouring from me with every whimpering exhale. I sink to my knees, rocking back and forth as the weight of everything I am holding crashes in on me. In that moment nothing matters but my next rasping inhale. I am breaking, shattering to the point that whatever is left of me will only be a shadowed remnant of my true self.