Monstrous (26 page)

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Authors: MarcyKate Connolly

BOOK: Monstrous
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I puzzle at the contraption, but I can make no sense of it. I only know it will not do anything good for Ren.

I loosen my cloak, stretching my wings and tail. They've already seen me as I am; I have no reason to hide it now. Besides, my wings need to be as free as possible.

A man drags Ren onto the platform while he struggles. His face is the color of the ash in his fireplace.

As the man places the rope around Ren's neck, I begin to understand what the contraption does. It will snap his neck in half. He will not survive it.

Panic sends me airborne. I ride the air current over the people, flapping my wings wide, and swoop down to the platform. Ren's startled face goes through several expressions, none of which I can make sense of now. My claws slice the rope from his neck—the crowd gasps—and I wrap my arms around his waist and take us both into the air.

Shouts follow, and the whistle of arrows. It is not easy flying with one so much taller and more unwieldy than the girls, but adrenaline fuels me to dodge and weave until we're clear.

Ren clings to me, eyes squeezed shut as we soar out of
the city. For the first time, his arms encircle me, but for all the wrong reasons. He is so close, and so warm, his fingers burning through the fabric of my dress. He is all I can smell, his quick shallow breaths all I can hear. Despite his height, I am keenly aware of how fragile he is. He hasn't said a word, but he shivers. Perhaps he is afraid of heights? Humans weren't meant to fly, not like me. We're over the deep forest, far enough from the angry mob to alight safely. If not for my aching limbs, I'd fly with Ren forever.

I land and set him on his feet, immediately regretting the loss of his warmth. He still shakes and I can't fathom what the expression on his face means. I've never seen this before. At least, not in this life. The once-me girl might have recognized it in an instant.

I simply stand before him, my insides quivering as much as he does on the outside. I don't know what to say, even though I'm filled with jumbled words. I have to look away. Staring only makes it harder to think.

I'm not what he thought I was. I pretended too long and now it's too late to fix it. After rescuing him, I can't help being painfully aware at how very human he is—and how very much I am not.

Yes, I love Ren. And it is quite possibly the most foolish thing I've ever done.

I betrayed him by stealing his memories. If I'd realized my sting could do that, I would never have stung anyone at all. Especially Ren.

I glance his way again—the strange expression remains.
He steps toward me and takes my hand. Sparks flitter up my arms.

Another step. My stomach seems to want to fly away of its own accord.

He grins. I adore that grin more than anything else on this earth.

Regret pinches me as I think of Father. He'll never approve of this.

“Thank you,” he says, squeezing my fingers. “I knew you were good. No matter what the city folk say. I knew it. I knew you.”

I want to bask in his smile, but I'm still troubled. “You're not bothered by what I am?”

“It will take some getting used to.” He runs a finger over the edge of my left wing. “But who you are is all that really matters. You're not the sort of person who'd steal girls from the sick house in the middle of the night like the wizard.”

I stiffen. Ice creeps over my body, chilling me from the inside out. If I hadn't stolen his memory of that night, he wouldn't feel this way. He was devastated by his friend's disappearance.

I pull my hand away and he frowns. “What's wrong, Kym?”

Oh goodness, that look in his eyes. How can I tell him what I did when he's looking at me that way? In spite of everything I am?

“I must go. And you have to go, too, before they find
you.” I push him back with one hand. “You must hide.”

“Don't worry, I've got plenty of hiding places no one knows about. I'll be safe. No one will see me unless I want them to.”

I've lost the ability to speak. I swallow in vain and run into the forest.

“Kym! Wait!” His footfalls patter after me for a few minutes, then cease. He knows he can't catch me if I don't want to be caught.

But I'm afraid. I fear that he is wrong.

He doesn't know me at all.

DAY FIFTY-SEVEN

BIRDS CHIRP ABOVE ME AS SUNBEAMS SLANT BETWEEN THE BRANCHES.
The trees and bushes are full of life, but I am dull and heavy.

I am not even hungry, despite my predator instincts.

I've wandered through the forest all night, not ready to return to Father's house, not even with the dawn of a new day. My thoughts are too conflicted. Father is always good to me. He sacrificed so much for me in life and now even in death and second life.

Yet so many things don't make sense. Things that don't cast Father in the same light in which I've always viewed him. Things that I would've thought he'd find abhorrent. Stealing memories when his daughter is deprived of hers? Leaving that girl on the road for an already grief-stricken city to find?

I fear the wizard is closer than we thought.

To make matters worse, now the city folk know what I am. They've seen me in my full form. Soon they'll figure out I belong to Father and they'll come for him. Despite the cover story I told Ren, I imagine he has already guessed at the truth.

Ren. Who doesn't recall he caught me taking that other girl from the city, nor that I stung him. Can I hope he'll forgive me for taking his memory? If he can see past the strangeness of my body, perhaps he can see past that, too?

If I ever see Ren again, I will tell him the truth about Delia. Father might not allow me near the city anymore after my antics the last couple of days. But I already miss Ren.

When I tire of wandering in circles, I leap onto the lowest branch of a large fir tree. I burrow into the nook between tree and branch and let tears roll down my face uninhibited.

The truth is, I have no idea what I should do. I thought I knew right from wrong, but everything has turned on its head.

I need Father. I need Ren. And I can't have both.

I'll do everything in my power to protect each of them in whatever way I can. Which means I must return to Father and confess what happened yesterday, why I didn't return. He must be mad with worry, but I regret none of it. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

And I need answers from Father—about that girl, and about exactly what my venom does to those I sting. There
can be no more secrets between us.

If he cannot give me answers, I'll know the wizard has him in his thrall. I'll have to beg Batu to help me find a way to release him from it.

And I'll destroy that wizard, once and for all.

I wipe my face with my sleeve, then lean my head back against the rough bark of the tree. I love the smell of fir trees, spicy and sharp.

Something crashes through the brush.

“Kym! Kymera!”

I flutter down from my perch. “Ren, what are you doing here?”

He bends over, hands on his knees, gasping. Fear fills his eyes and I recoil. Is he afraid of me now?

“Run. Hide. They're coming.” He heaves another breath. I rest my hand on his shoulder.

“Who is coming?”

“Everyone. The entire city. Pitchforks, torches. They're hunting you. If they can't find you, they'll burn you out of the forest.”

Father.

My claws snap into place and my eyes change to cat's irises.

“Thank you for warning me,” I say. “I will go.”

Ren latches onto my hand like a vise. “I'm coming with you.”

My resolve to go to Father falters. I could run away with Ren right now. Far away where no one, wizard or angry citizen, could find us.

But I can't leave Father. No matter what he may have done since, he didn't leave me behind, not even when I died.

And Ren doesn't remember what I did. I can't just pretend it never happened, however much I want to.

“No, go in the opposite direction. Flee the forest, hide.”

“I'm not leaving you.”

Tears burn in my eyes. Cats must not be accustomed to crying. “You don't understand. I did something bad. It will make you unhappy.”

Ren drops my hand like I stung him. “What are you talking about?”

“What I told you before, about my parents? It wasn't true. I'm not a real hybrid.”

A puzzled look fills his eyes.

“My father made me like this. He and I have been working against the wizard.” I flap my wings for effect. “He discovered where the wizard hides the girls in Bryre, and I rescue one every night. You found me taking a girl once. Do you remember at all?”

Ren stumbles backward.

“I don't remember. I don't understand. If you're saving the girls, why have none of them come home?”

“We send them to a safe place, but that's not important. This is: I found Delia and saved her. She's safe, but I sent her away from you because I thought”—my face reddens—“I thought you were sweet on her. I was jealous. I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

I'm out of breath from speaking so fast. Every muscle tenses as I wait for Ren to respond. His face goes through
several changes as he digests the information.

“You took Delia?” His hands ball into fists.

I nod. “From the wizard. I saved her, but to do that we had to send her away.”

“Do you have any idea what you've done?”

“I am sorry, I—”

“Delia is Oliver's daughter,” he says through clenched teeth. “She's the sole heir to Bryre's throne since her older sister was murdered by the wizard.”

Horror curls around me like a cloak of ice. “She's a princess?” Everything makes sense. Ren is the king's page boy. He delivers messages for him. Of course, he would be charged with delivering his daughter, too. That explains why the D for Delia was so prominently featured in those messages—they were concealing her from the wizard.

Jealousy is a very stupid thing. It only leaves the bitterest taste behind—regret. One foolish choice and I've hurt far more people than I imagined.

“Where did you take her?” His voice cracks.

I've told him this much, I may as well tell him everything. “Belladoma. Father says it's wonderful there. I know she is—”

“Belladoma?” he whispers as he sinks to the dirt path, wrapping his arms around his head. “Belladoma?”

The ground is tugged out from under me and I hover weightless and wingless over an abyss. Something is terribly wrong. Belladoma should have comforted Ren. Instead, it crushed him.

“What's wrong with Belladoma?” I ask, struggling to
keep the panic out of my voice.

His eyes fill with shock and anger. “Belladoma is the rival city that attacked Bryre. That the wizard protected us from. Are you really that stupid, Kym?” He spits as though saying my name leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

I can't breathe. “That cannot be,” I whisper.

Ren stands, shaking as though he's about to explode. He gazes at me as though seeing me for the first time. Shock. Amazement. Revulsion.

“You're a monster,” he growls. “And only a wizard can create a monster.”

It takes everything I have not to sting Ren to shut him up. So he can't say those awful words. So I can't hear them. Instead I run blindly through the forest.

It is not true. It can't be true. Father is a victim of the wizard, and if he's enchanted, more so now than ever. How could Ren even suggest he's the wizard himself?

Tears pour over my cheeks. Nothing can hold them back. Ren hates me. Father will hate me for telling him.

Ren's words repeat in my head. I can't make them stop.

You're a monster, and only a wizard can create a monster.

I shove another branch out of my way; it snaps off the tree, raining leaves onto the path.

How can Ren's words be true? Yes, Father made me, but that doesn't make him a wizard. Father is a scientist.

I pause in my flight to catch my breath next to a birch tree. I lean my back against it. The trouble is, Ren's words have put a name to the gnawing uneasiness that's been slowly growing for some time. The fear whispering in the
back of my head that something is wrong with Father and his behavior.

But if Father is the wizard and not just enchanted, why would he bring back his own daughter while killing the others? What really happens to the girls after Darrell carts them off?

No, Father is not like that. He can't be the wizard. Ren is wrong.

I double over as though I've been punched in the stomach, clutching my aching head.

Flashing images burn in front of my eyes. Roses. Sculptured hedges. The parquet dance floor of the castle. Sun sparkling on all of them.

Laughter fills my ears and the smell of roses fills my nose.

I stumble forward and hit the ground, trembling.

Why do these images in my head plague me? I've only seen these things by moonbeam and shadow. They don't belong to me.

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