by Alicia Fabel
“Does that mean none of them are responsible for the Siphon Master and the unnaturals?”
“That’s what it means,” Kale said tiredly. “Hopefully, we’ll have better luck at the farm. Come on. Let’s get out of here and get some sleep.”
“Best thing you’ve ever said to me,” Vera replied.
Kale picked up a plate of fruit and cheese as they walked through the room. Vera lifted one brow.
“Once the adrenaline wears off, you’ll be hungry,” he explained.
“Careful. I might stop hating you.” Vera snagged a plate of pastries too.
10
Kale braced himself.
“I hate you,” seethed Vera while shaking strings of saliva from her shoe.
“I didn’t mention the velvet worms because you would’ve freaked out. They typically steer clear of the chickens, anyway, so I didn’t think it would matter. That’s the whole reason why we’re riding, not walking. Plus, they’re generally nocturnal. It was unlucky that an aggressive one was still above ground this time of day.”
“First off, I’m still ticked you didn’t warn me that I’d have to crawl onto a chicken’s back this morning. Second, how about if you assume from now on that if there’s a chance something unlucky will happen, like a watermelon-sized worm with a mouth full of razors losing its mind and leaping from a hole to try and eat my foot, it will.”
“Your luck’s not all bad,” Kale argued. “You were lucky the chicken moved so fast. Your hen probably feels pretty lucky after that unexpected snack too.”
“I’m serious,” Vera said. “Full disclosure from now on.”
“Then you should know the beetles are big around here too.”
“Oh, Lady.” Vera spun around in her saddle, looking for any sign of a giant beetle, her eyes bugging from her skull.
That’s why he hadn’t told her in the first place.
“The beetles are scavengers, not predators like the velvet worms,” Kale said patiently.
Sweat from the humid Velvet Wood air coated their skin even though they’d skirted the outside of the woods, avoiding the most humid areas where the worms lived. Vera swiped a hand across her forehead, trying to appear calm. The third time she jumped at a noise, Kale sighed.
“What is your deal with Lady Luck?” Kale asked as a distraction.
“Suzie believed in her.” Vera shifted in the saddle and shrugged. “After Suzie died last year, I needed someone to talk to. I figured if Lady Luck was real, maybe she’d listen. The way my luck’s been going ever since, I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”
“You didn’t have anyone to talk to? What about Gus, the bird shifter?”
“He’s Suzie’s husband. I didn’t know he was a shifter until the Badlands.” Vera fiddled with the pommel on her saddle. “Gus was always around, but we never talked. Even before Suzie died. Wait, how did you know that was Gus?”
“Smelled him at your apartment. I was surprised because magic doesn’t last long on Earth. Somehow, your foster parents had a supply of it, though. I’d like to meet Gus sometime and ask him about that.”
“And then execute him?”
“No. There was only a trace of magic, not enough to be dangerous or to expose humans.” Kale ducked under a branch. “So, no other friends?”
“I’ve never been good with people. They’re pretty much all liars. Except for Suzie, she never lied… Never-mind, I take that back. Even she was a liar. She was hiding magic from me that whole time. That leaves one homeless guy who hung out near our apartment as the only person I know who never lied to me. Suzie and I used to take him food, but he stopped coming around after Suzie died.” Vera inhaled deeply. “That’s my sob story. How about you? You slept on the floor when you were a boy? And when was that, exactly, Mr. I-Can’t-Die?”
“A long time ago,” said Kale wryly. “When I was a boy, I slept in the loft with my big brother. Sometimes he’d let me use him for a pillow when I couldn’t sleep.”
“Did something happen to your family?” Vera asked perceptively.
“Pirates. They came in the night and killed everyone except me. Decided I had a pretty enough face, so they sold me alongside my family’s sheep.”
Kale hadn’t thought of that night in a long time. After so many centuries, the rage and pain had dulled. It was just a story of facts now. Vera’s eyes shone with heartache, though. Stars blast. I only meant to divert her curiosity from how long ago I’d been a boy. The last thing I wanted is for her to forget who and what I am. She’s already proven to underestimate how dangerous I am to her.
“Don’t worry. I got my revenge. Killed my owner and his closest friends when I was ten. Then I hunted down and slaughtered the pirates and the Tempestarii—a sect of magicians—who’d hired them. Along with anyone who ever hurt my family or me. Everyone who stood in my way too. By the time I was fifteen, I stopped keeping count of the bodies. When I found the last tempestarii, he was having dinner with his wife and children at his mansion in the country, as far from his past and me as he could get. It wasn’t far enough, though.” Kale smiled viciously. “The screams of his wife and children as they watched him die were beautiful. Afterward, I kept killing. I enjoyed it too much to stop. People started paying me for my services. Eventually, the Infernal Hosts took notice. Once I worked for them, I had a warm bed in every village and town I went. Never had to sleep on the cold floor again.”
Vera’s sorrow twisted into a familiar mixture of disgust and horror. It was a look Kale was more comfortable with.
“If I’d known that story would shut you up, I’d have told it to you days ago,” Kale said with a smirk.
“You’re such an ass.”
With that, Vera turned away and sealed her lips shut. She seemed to have forgotten about the worms and beetles, though, as she stared straight ahead without flinching. When they emerged from the Velvet Woods, the Monroe farm lay ahead, nestled in the crook of a bluff. At the center of the compound was a massive white barn. It wasn’t like a human’s barn. It was only shaped like one. The upper levels were apartments that housed five generations of the Monroe family. The lower levels were the family commons areas.
Large igloo-shaped structures—chicken huts—sat in rows to one side of the barnyard. Hens, cocks, chicks, and goats wandered around the barnyard. A creek flowed around one side of the compound, creating a natural barrier to contain the animals. It fed through the pass and into a small lake on the other side of the bluffs. Opposite the chicken huts were rows of silos, filled with leftover corn and grain from last year’s harvest. The rest was miles of fresh-turned farmland.
Vera took in the whole scene with awe but otherwise remained quiet. Normally, she’d have asked a million questions by now. It had to be killing her.
“The Monroes are the most well-known, non-elite family in Summartir,” Kale explained unprompted. “They have always been loyal servants to the triads. Monroe daughters become handmaidens, Monroe sons farm the land. Together, they raise the flocks. Monroe land rivals most of the elites’. Perhaps there’s a Monroe who’s tired of playing second-fiddle and powerful enough to do something about it.”
“By poisoning the Maiden and you? But why create an unnatural army on Earth?” Vera wondered aloud, obviously forgetting that she was not talking to Kale.
“A long memory and someone to avenge?” suggested Kale.
Two men rode out toward Kale and Vera. Kale recognized the burly older man carrying a pitchfork as one of the family patriarchs. His olive-toned skin, darkened by many hours in the sun, contrasted with his thinning white hair. Interestingly, the white hair was a family trait, not due to age. Even the children in the family had snowy heads of hair. While taking in the range of bluffs, Vera hadn’t noticed the approaching welcoming party. Kale wondered what she was thinking.
“Incoming,” Kale said as the stamp of chicken feet reached his ears.
“Guardian,” greeted the older man as he neared. “Why have you come to our farm today?”
“What makes you think it’s milktooth?” asked the young man, who looked like a younger version of Mitch.
“Who are you?” asked Kale.
“My son, Gage,” answered Mitch. “He’s our Hatchery Master.”
“The triads confirmed it,” Kale answered Gage.
“You’re sure it’s not an old batch someone’s had tucked away in their family vault?” Mitch licked his lower lip nervously.
“Someone tested it out on me,” said Kale. “It’s fresh.”
“I assure you, everyone here values their life too much to do something like that, Guardian.” Mitch laid the pitchfork across his lap and tugged off his work gloves, baring his hands. “I see the rumors of your invincibility are not exaggerated, though.”
“Not much about me is,” Kale replied, honestly.
“A nest was raided four days ago,” revealed Mitch. “Lost all but one chick. Been trying to keep the little guy alive, but he won’t last long. His egg tooth is missing.”
“Why didn’t you report it?” asked Kale.
“We thought it was an animal attack. All that was left of the other chick was feathers and gore. Found this little one floating downstream the next day, half his beak chewed off. Their mama looked to be chewed open too. We hadn’t believed there was anything to report,” explained Mitch.
“Why has the Maiden sent you instead of coming herself?” asked Gage.
“Your Maiden was poisoned too,” Kale revealed and Mitch pulled back startled by the news. “She’ll live, but it will take some time for her to recover fully. I also have reason to believe the person responsible for the milktooth poison is also responsible for a threat on my charge’s realm.”
“Ah,” said Mitch slowly. “Then you have the authority to seek whatever answers here you want. You do not require our permission.”
“No, but your family’s cooperation would make things a lot easier.”
“I will do my best to ensure it. We have nothing to hide regarding these matters,” assured Mitch. “We’ll take you to see the surviving chick if you’d like? Let you see why we thought it was an animal attack.”
“It’s as good a place as any to start,” said Kale agreeably.
The two men turned their hens toward the farmyard, leading Kale and Vera to their home. Gage was clearly not pleased. The young man kept throwing meaningful looks at his father. Mitch didn’t acknowledge his son’s attempt at silent communication.
“I don’t trust them,” said Kale under his breath.
“His hands are marked?” Vera asked.
“No.”
“Then what’s the matter? He said they have nothing to hide. I think he was telling the truth.”
“You’re wrong,” said Kale
“Want to make a bet about that?” Vera asked, bristling.
“You don’t want to do that,” Kale warned.
“Oh, I think I do.”
“Fine. When you figure out that you’re wrong, you’ll owe me one act of obedience. No questions, no defiance. Whatever I say, goes.”
“Done,” Vera said smugly. “And when you figure out I’m not wrong, you’ll owe me one favor. I get to decide what that favor is whenever I’m ready.”
“Done.”
Vera urged her hen after the men, looking like she’d already won. She was going to be angry when she realized her error. Kale just had to keep her in one piece until then.
There were kids everywhere. One little girl was trying to ride a goat. The goat wasn’t having it and flipped her off. The girl jumped up to the cheers of a small group of boys and girls. Farther out, teens tossed handfuls of corn at the feet of the chickens. Chicks as big as ponies followed after the feeders, cheeping until someone reached up to pet their fluffy heads. Whenever a chicken wandered too far from the yard, a goat chased it down and rammed it with its head, herding it back to the flock. A couple of little boys laughed at the squawks of the herded chickens, and then ran to collect any dislodged feathers. Vera couldn’t imagine what a childhood like this would’ve been like.
Mitch led them to a platform, like the one at the palace they had used to mount the chickens. A young boy ran forward and grabbed Vera’s reins, unworried when the hen tussled his mop of hair with her jagged beak. Vera pulled her legs to one side of her saddle and slowly slid down the chicken’s side on her belly, holding onto the saddle so she didn’t fall on her butt. The platform was lower than Vera had thought. She reached with her tippy toes, feeling blindly for it. A pair of big hands grabbed Vera around the waist, plucking her from the chicken and standing her on her own two feet. Vera whipped around to inform Kale she didn’t need his help. It wasn’t Kale. It was Gage. Kale was on his way toward them, though. With a death glare.
“Thanks,” Vera said, putting herself between Kale and the man.
“Sure thing,” Gage said, eyeing the Guardian before ducking his head and walking away.
“You good?” Kale looked Vera up and down like she’d just come from battle.
“What’s your problem?”
“Just stick close to me,” said Kale grumpily.
“Sure, I’ll be the sprinkles to your doughnut. That work for you?”
Vera was distracted as a young woman walked from the barn, to small kitchen garden, and out a side door. She wore linen pants and a white shirt. The same as everyone else at the farm. Her dark skin, against the silvery braid down her back, was striking. But that’s not what caught Vera’s attention. Out the corner of her eye, the woman seemed to glow. Looking at her straight on, there was nothing unusual about her. The woman saw Vera staring and froze. Her eyes scanned the yard like a startled rabbit sniffing out danger. When the woman’s eyes landed on Kale, she nearly fell over her own feet to get back inside. Soon, adults were showing up to usher the kids inside too.
“Come on, Sprinkles,” called Kale.
Vera’s nose flared at the new nickname. She really had to learn to keep her mouth shut.
The hatchery took up a small corner in the lower level of the barn. It allowed easy access for monitoring the at-risk eggs and chicks brought for specialized care. Heat lamps hung over half a dozen stalls. Only two were on. Someone in the Monroe family had enough magic to keep the devices powered. One lamp heated an egg the size of a beach ball. The other warmed what looked like a dead bird. The mutilated chick was flopped in the corner of its stall, not moving beyond the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Blood matted the delicate down-covered flesh that outlined his ribs. One wing was scored by what looked like claw marks. A jagged hole in his beak had been patched, but the bandaging was coming loose as though he’d tried ripping it off. There were teeth marks all over his beak. It looked like something had used him as a chew toy.
Kale turned to tell Vera to brace herself but she’d already seen. Before he could catch her, Vera squeezed past him and into the stall. The chick jerked, frightened, but not able to get away. Vera clicked her tongue and shushed gently. The chick stilled, tipping his head to peer at her through his only remaining red eye. Stars, the girl’s a chicken whisperer too?
“Don’t!” hissed Gage.
Vera didn’t hear, or more likely didn’t care to listen. She dropped to her knees beside the bird, placing a hand on the chick’s beak. The chick looked at her pitifully then nuzzled her hand.
“Well, that’s unexpected,” said Mitch, shoulders relaxing. “No one else has gotten that close to him without having to go to the healer to be patched up.”
“He’s violent?” asked Kale quietly so not to frighten Vera.
“Honestly, we thought he’d gone feral,” Mitch answered equally as quiet.
Kale’s blood heated. Neither man noticed because they were too busy gawking at Vera and the mad bird.
“You didn’t think to mention that fact sooner? Before my charge was beside him?”
That got their at
tention. The men moved a couple steps away.
“I’m sorry, Guardian,” spluttered Mitch. “We had no idea your charge would run in there like that. Most people take one look at him and stay back, all proper. Without needing to be told.”
Kale’s hands clenched by his sides. Admittedly, it wasn’t their fault that Vera’s sense of self-preservation was faulty. Telling her wouldn’t have made a difference either. He could have tied her up, though, if he’d known.
“He doesn’t seem to mind her for some reason,” said Gage. “I think she’s plenty safe in there with him. She can probably walk out any time she wants.”
“But I wouldn’t go in after her, he might get spooked,” added Mitch.
“Vera,” Kale said calmly. “These guys think it’s best to let the chick rest now. Why don’t you come out here?”
Vera scowled at him and asked Gage, “When was the last time this chick ate?”
“He hasn’t. Not in the three days we’ve had him here.”
“You poor thing,” Vera cooed to the chick.
“We won’t let him keep suffering,” assured Mitch. “After today, with him not getting any better, he’ll be put to rest.”
Vera looked at Mitch with wide eyes. Then at Kale as though any of this was his fault.
“You’re gonna let them kill him?” Her voice rose, upsetting the chick who began to squirm.
“Stay calm,” said Kale. “It’s not my decision to make.”
“He won’t feel a thing.” Mitch thought to assure Vera.
Again, Vera looked to Kale. Damn the moron to the depths of Diyu. Kale was prepared to toss the man into the stall and let Vera and the chick have at him if he said another word.
“Bring me some water for him. And some food,” Vera ordered with frightening calm.
Mitch began to argue, but Kale grabbed the man’s arm, squeezing tightly.
“I’ll get it,” Gage said and ran away.
“Can I have a cloth or something to clean him up too?” Vera requested.
Kale released Mitch’s arm once the man said, “Yes, of course.”