Monstrous (18 page)

“What is Darrell's reward, Father?” I ask.

He looks startled for a moment, but recovers. “Ah, you
heard that, did you?” He sighs. “Darrell is not like us. He is a mercenary sort of man. As long as we pay him well, he will keep our location and mission secret.”

I help him into his chair by the fire while I digest that. “He doesn't care about the girls?” This puzzles me. How could anyone not care about them with their sweet, childlike faces?

“He simply cares more about himself. Do not trouble yourself about him. Once our mission is complete, Darrell will be out of our lives. But for now, he is a valuable ally.” Father opens his book to where he was reading before.

“Is his reward gold or silver?”

“That is my concern, child, not yours. Now don't you have a city to sneak into tonight?”

I grin for his benefit. “I do indeed.”

“Then you had better have some dinner. You will need your strength.”

Father always has my best interests at heart. So I obey.

By the time the sun sets, I am desperate for some kind of solace. For someone who understands my loneliness.

I do not head directly to Bryre. My feet take me to the river, the call of my dragon brother too strong to ignore. I hover above the path, moonlight and the faint sound of rushing water guiding my way. Shadows swirl around me, but their strange shapes do not frighten me.

I have nothing to fear from the monsters in the woods. I am a monster. Humans cannot offer me anything lasting, not anymore. I am too much animal and instinct. Too many
broken pieces sewn together.

My books have never mentioned whether dragons come out at night, but every fiber of my will calls for Batu. Even though it's outside of our routine, I hope he will find me by the river tonight.

When I reach the river, I close my eyes and give myself over to my senses. An owl hoots from a tree across the bank. The water next to me ripples merrily along, paying no heed to my inner turmoil. The scent of night-blooming flowers floats through the air from somewhere deep in the forest. And there—a dank, dark, slightly metallic smell hangs in the air.

I open my eyes and find Batu coalescing before me.

Sister,
he says.

Tears fill my eyes as a leathery wing curls around me. I feel more at home now than I ever have in the cottage. Father loves me, has sacrificed so much for me, but even he cannot fully understand what it is like to be what I am. To have human desires and fears, but to be so different from them in ways that are utterly insurmountable.

Batu, however, does. He too lived among the humans, cared for them, and was betrayed by them.

He puffs dank breath over me.
What is wrong?

I rest my head against his wing. The moonlight glints off it in a way different from the sun. Instead of silvery bright, he is now a charcoal-and-diamond hue.

“I made the mistake of trusting a human. I should not have become so attached.” I toss a pebble in the river and it disappears beneath the waves. “He chose another girl over
me. Someone . . . prettier. I had not thought he could betray me so easily.”

One never does.

“I am very glad,” I say, unable to hide the tremor in my voice, “that I have you.”

Always, sister, always.

I retrieve the message Ren hid in the palace, and I do not even pause by the fountain. A rose rests on the rim. Again. Is it for me or that other girl? A bitter taste settles in the back of my mouth and I flee the fountain and its happy little cherubs.

I shall not be distracted this time. I will do what I was created for.

I'll save those girls and stay away from Ren.

I have not ventured near the palace for the past few days, but tonight I feel bolder. Seeing Batu has lent me a measure of extra courage. Ren will not keep me from any facet of my mission, and Father says knowledge of the king and his council's plans will help.

The note I memorized said:
D must return to home base on the morrow.

I cannot help wondering who or what D is, and where this home base lies, but deciphering messages is not my forte.

Rescuing damsels in distress, however, is.

With my razor-sharp focus, I arrive at the prison house in record time. In the shadows I close my eyes, letting my sense of smell inform me of the number of guards inside. I locate the fire in the hearth of the building next door, the
sickly smell of the children in the prison, and the roses on the wind. The guards smell musky and earthy, sweat and fear sticking to their skin.

For a moment, I think I catch Ren's scent—like baking bread—but it fades before I can be sure. I shiver. He cannot invade my thoughts tonight. Nor ever again.

One guard is posted against the front door, nodding off. For several long breaths I watch him. He does not move an inch. With the slightest whisper of wings, I fly to the roof of the prison, move the shingles aside, and drop down through the hole in the roof.

The miasma filling the space hits me like a brick wall, but I push through it. The girls get sicker every day. The foul magic of the disease hangs in the air like a cloud of buzzing insects. Two guards peel off the wall and hurl themselves at me; I duck and sting them as I draw the vial of sleeping powder from my belt. The door to the prison bangs open, and more guards—many more than usual—pour through the doorway. The lone guard outside must have been meant to give me a false sense of security. I toss the vial into their midst and watch the plumes of smoky powder overwhelm half of them immediately. A handful resist longer than I expect and pounce toward me. Only two reach me on their feet, while the others succumb to the effects of Father's weapon. Hissing and with claws drawn, I sting the two remaining servants of the wizard. To my dismay, one manages to tear my cloak with his sword before he falls. I shall have to patch that tomorrow, but for now I turn my attention back to the girls.

I scan the room, searching for the bed next to the last one I emptied, and freeze.

There, in the bed nearest the door, is the girl who stole Ren.

I do not breathe for a full minute.

She's lovely, even with the pale cast over her looks. Her yellow curls fan out behind her head on the pillow, but her once-perfect face is now marred by a rash that creeps up her neck and over her cheeks, and her dainty hands have boils on the backs. Somehow, she still looks like an angel. Is this why Ren prefers her? She is fair and simple, while I am darkly complex.

At this moment, I understand what the word
hate
means. I hate this girl. I hate how Ren looked at her. I hate how she looked at him. I hate that I cannot stop imagining him showing her all the secrets of Bryre he showed to me.

But should I save her? That's the real question. I could tell Ren I rescued his new girl and he would be forever in my debt. She would be safe from the wizard and his tortures and poisons.

She would also be far away in a beautiful, safe kingdom. Far away from Ren.

I can't deny that temptation is strong. But if I leave her to the wizard, she'll be forever out of Ren's reach.

That temptation is stronger.

That would hurt Ren. If he does love her, he would be brokenhearted. I cannot bear to see Ren that way. I cannot stand the thought of him feeling pain for even so much as a second. He may not care for me, but he has taken up
permanent residence in my heart whether I like it or not.

Despite his abandonment of me, I cannot act in such a manner that I know will cause Ren anguish.

I must save her.

Before I can change my mind, I collect my quarry and flee the prison as fast as I can.

The last thing I want to do is run into Ren with his new girl in my arms. I'm at the parapets in no time and then I fly home, my heart full of warring emotions—the satisfaction of knowing I have done the right thing, and despair at how completely I have lost Ren.

FATHER HAS INSTRUCTED ME NOT TO DISTURB THE GIRLS, BUT I CANNOT
heed his words today. Not when that girl, my rival, sits up in the tower weeping. I hardly slept all night; every nerve in my body is aflame with curiosity and dislike.

A part of me needs to know who this girl is, who took Ren away from me so easily. She is prettier by far, but what else is there to sway him? I had not thought him so susceptible to those sorts of charms.

Mostly because I thought he was charmed with me.

But I was wrong.

While Father naps in his chair with Pippa curled in his lap, I tiptoe out of the cottage and head for the tower. The sun warms the patchwork skin of my arms, and I trace the lines between the sections with my finger.

The girl doesn't have strange skin like this. I thought there was something lovely about the many hues at first, but I have slowly begun to hate it. These pieces of skin would scare off a human like Ren. The tail and wings that prove so useful to me in my mission would be deemed hideous.

How is it possible that all the parts of me I value would be so disgusting to others?

The girl's cries echo across the yard. She must be standing by the window. Does she miss Bryre? Her home? Ren?

My claws spring out on their own accord and I clench my fists to nudge them back into place.

I
miss Ren. I do not care whether she does.

I fly up the steps, stopping just outside the door of the room at the top. Dizziness surges over me. I will see what this girl is about. My tail is curled around my leg, my wings are flat against my back, and my cloak securely fastened. I should not scare her much.

When I thrust the door open, she scuttles away from the windowsill with a cry and grips the post of the bed with white knuckles.

My voice disappears. Something about her narrowed eyes strikes me dumb.

“You,” she says. “Who . . . ?”

The telltale sound of the cottage door slamming shut rings out in the yard below. I do not have much time.

“How do you know Ren?” I demand.

“Ren . . .” she whispers. She steps back, confusion clouding her lovely face. The rash is gone, but she is still
pale from the wizard's sickness. She cannot be more than a year or two younger than I am.

Footsteps clomp on the stairs. Father is coming. How did he know I would go to her?

The girl's face twists. “You were in my dreams.” She shudders. “You're a nightmare! And your eyes!”

I freeze while the blond girl who stole Ren shakes uncontrollably.

My eyes?

But I have my blue human ones on. Did this girl know the once-me?

The door bursts open. “Kym! What are you doing?”

The girl shrinks back against the wall. I whirl to face a very angry Father. “I'm sorry, I—”

He grabs my arm and drags me out of the room. “What have I told you about talking to the girls?”

“Not to do it,” I say miserably. His grip on my arm hurts.

“That is right, and why is that?” His face is as red as my roses and his breathing labored as we stomp down the staircase.

“You do not want me to get attached to them.” He is right, but he does not know that I am in no danger of getting attached to this one.

This girl is different. I do not think I like her very much. I saved her for Ren and . . . and she was not very nice to me.

And what did she mean, calling me a nightmare?

“No getting attached. We cannot keep them here for
long. It is too dangerous. The only place they are safe is Belladoma.” We reach the ground floor of the tower and he spins me around to face him. “We cannot afford for anything to distract you from your mission, Kymera. Do you understand me?”

I cannot bear to look him in the eyes. “Yes, I understand.” And I do—perfectly. I just cannot help being curious. Especially about her.

“Good, now do not do it again. I expect you to dose them regularly, but engaging them in idle chatter will only result in pain for you.” Father sighs and places a soft hand on my cheek. “And you know how much I cannot stand to see you unhappy.”

A coolness spreads over me, easing the burning anger in my heart. Why did I sneak in to see her? I hate letting Father down. Between Ren and Batu I've already done so much more than he knows! I must do better. For Father.

Ren and that girl are nothing to me.

Father—and saving Bryre from the wizard—are everything.

And Batu, well, he is dear to me too. I am determined to somehow sway the dragon to our cause. With a dragon on our side, the wizard's defeat would surely be quick.

I pat Father's arm as we cross the yard. The chickens squawk at us, no doubt hoping for more food.

“I promise, I will not disappoint you again. I will only go to the tower to sting them, nothing more.”

He huffs. “That will do, my dear.”

As I settle in by the fire to read, I realize two strange things. One, it never occurred to me to bring that girl roses, even though I have done so for every other girl I've rescued. Perhaps part of me didn't want to share anything at all with her, not even flowers.