Page 10 of Red in Tooth and Claw

I sucked in a breath, jackknifing up from my spot on the floor. Everything hurt.

One time, when I was seven, I got in a fight. We’d been in town buying supplies. I’d waited outside the general store, drawn into a game of marbles with a few of the local youngins. I won, but Micah Tailor didn’t want to cough up my spoils of war—specifically a fine specimen of a cat’s-eye marble. He accused me of cheating—said I’d cast a spell on him with my ghost eyes.

I may or may not have also told him his mother must be an old cow to birth such a scrawny, wobble-legged calf.

He punched me in the mouth.

Things devolved from there. By the time someone fetched Pops, I had a black eye, sore ribs, a split lip, and was soaked head to toe from being dunked in the horse trough. In retrospect, telling a fella twice my size that his mother was a cow might have been a bit foolish. I had to apologize to Mrs.Tailor and clean the trough.

I didn’t get the marble, either.

As terrible as all that felt, the next day had been worse. Everything ached. That’s how I felt now, like I’d been worked over by Micah and his cronies. My mouth tasted like old blood and my throat was all blades.

While cataloging my injuries, I realized that the insides of my thighs were sticky. A familiar ache that had nothing to do with last night tore through my abdomen. My monthlies. I hadn’t yet figured out how I was going to handle such a thing at the Settlement, but I’d assumed I’d be able to figure out something . To be honest, I’d put off thinking about it. But being stuck in the Penitent Box severely limited my options.

The door rattled then, the slot opening. A bundled napkin, presumably full of breakfast, and a new canteen of water appeared in the breach. I snatched them up, setting the food aside and immediately twisting open the canteen so I could take a sip. The ache in my throat eased. I cocked my ear, waiting to hear a commotion of sorts. Someone exclaiming over a carcass, the blood, or the scratches on the door.

I didn’t get any of that. Instead, I heard a soft huff of exasperation on the other side of the door. “I need your bucket.”

I recognized that voice—Dai Lo. I wanted to talk to her, but I didn’t want to add to my time. Course, if anyone had heard me caterwauling last night, I was already in here forever. Still, I didn’t want to get her in trouble. I wish I could write her a note. I fetched the bucket and slid it out, but before I could pull my hand back in, Dai Lo grabbed my wrist.

“What happened to your hand?” She whispered the words so faintly I could barely hear her.

How much to tell her? Should I even tell her the truth? My gut told me that I could depend on Dai Lo. She was a solid sort, like Jesse. “An animal was sniffing around the shed last night. I was trying to frighten it away.” I licked my cracked lips. “Is there…is there anything out there?”

“Just the Box and some overturned earth. Probably an elk or a curious coyote.” She dropped my wrist and snapped her fingers, waiting for me to show her my other hand. I obliged, and she examined it quickly. “These need to be tended.”

“The cuts aren’t much,” I said.

“Your hands are filthy, and even the smallest cut can lead to infection.” Dai Lo sounded so much like Miss Moon right then, it made me smile. She held my wrist carelessly, like her mind was elsewhere. “I’ll see if they will let me treat your wounds.”

I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me. “You’ll get in trouble.”

“Not if I tell them I saw them when you grabbed your bucket.” Faint exasperation lit her tone. “I can’t in good conscience ignore this and let you get sick, lose a hand, or die.” She paused. “Possibly in that order.”

She let go of my wrist, and I almost let it go at that. It’s not in my nature to trust, but I didn’t see how I had any sort of choice.

“If you can gather extra rags…” My words trailed off.

“Extra rags?”

I racked my brains for an excuse. “For cleaning? My hands are fair dirty, true, but in cleaning, the wounds might reopen. I’m a bleeder, see.” I didn’t, as far as I knew, bleed more than any other body.

I was met with a charged silence. As the seconds ticked by, I licked my lips, tempted to take back what I said. “Forget it. I’m sure whatever you gather is fine.”

Another irritated huff, though her words came out in a gentle sort of way. “I think I understand. Eat up. I’ll be back shortly if I’m able.”

And then the flap snapped close.

Now it was back to waiting.

My meal was far from inspiring—a biscuit, though at least it was fresh. Someone had smeared the insides with honey. I’m fairly certain they weren’t supposed to. No meat. No fruit. The penitent weren’t allowed any fripperies. The better for them to appreciate what they had, I supposed. Made me more certain that the honey had been snuck into the middle.

The biscuit was buttery and fluffy as a cloud, and despite their filthy nature, I was tempted to lick my fingers. By the time Dai Lo returned, maybe a half hour later, my breakfast was only the faintest of memories. The door creaked open, sunlight flooding into my space.

I slammed my eyes shut, unadjusted to the brightness of day. I must confess—I almost sobbed. Tight, dark places and I were the bitterest of enemies. I’d only just made it through the first night, and already my time in the shed had taken its toll. As such, Dai Lo’s face took on an almost saintly countenance. More divinity than human, with light gilding her delicate features, which were arranged in a no-nonsense scowl.

“Hands.” She flicked her eyes to the side, letting me know that an elder from the Settlement was with her, even if I couldn’t see them. “As a penitent, I know you will do your best to be silent, even in pain.”

Translation: We are being watched, so clamp your jaw. I nodded, mouthing the words thank you . Only the faintest flicker of response in her eyes told me that she understood. Dai Lo, I was beginning to comprehend, was not only smart, but leagues ahead of me in savviness.

She produced a bowl, which she filled with water from a canteen. A rag was dipped, and my hands were cleaned with ruthless efficiency. I hissed my pain through my teeth. The only sympathy I received was the occasional soft glance from Dai Lo. Once my hands were reasonably clean, she frowned. “These need salve.” She turned to the side. “There should be some in the bag.” Her frown morphed into a scowl, her mouth pinched and her brows drawn together. “No, no, not that. It’s a brown jar. Check the other pouch.”

As she scolded and directed, Dai Lo pulled a small bundle of rags from her sleeve, handing them to me. She never paused in her directions as she did, and I stood in awe of her prowess. Dai Lo passed me the rags without her chaperone taking any notice.

I took them gratefully. If we hadn’t been watched, I might have kissed Dai Lo on the cheeks for such help. The rags quickly disappeared, tucked inside the legs of my long underwear.

This help would come with a price. There were too many questions in Dai Lo’s eyes. But I felt oddly sure that she wasn’t going to snitch on me. Dai Lo had a respect for my secrets.

The salve produced, my hands were treated and wrapped. Dai Lo was both efficient and caring in a way that left me both teary-eyed and thinking of my grandmother.

“I was forbidden to bring anything for the pain.” She frowned when she was finished. “Apparently pain helps the penitent.” She didn’t look convinced, and truth be told, I wasn’t, either. My hands ached, my throat was raw, and my guts felt like someone had scooped a shovelful of coals into them.

“I’m supposed to tell you that another night has been added to your punishment.” The words held a crispness to them that told me loud and clear that Dai Lo didn’t agree. “Though I told them categorically that you did not speak one word to me, there are reports of hearing you singing.”

The knot in my throat bobbed as I swallowed. Damn the palisade watch all the way to the skies and back. “I sang,” I whispered, cradling my bandaged hands to my chest. “To keep the creature quiet.”

Dai Lo gave me the barest of nods before wrinkling her nose, which told me she didn’t like what she had to say next. “Sympathy is saved for the truly penitent.” She pursed her lips. Then, her movements quick, she leaned close and squeezed my wrists. “You do what you need to do to survive. No one can ask more than that.” Her brown eyes flicked to the side. “No one should, at any rate.”

Thank you, I mouthed again. Hoping she understood that my thanks went beyond my hands. Beyond the rags. There was something in a body seeing you, even for a second, exactly as you are, and saying, “I understand.” For a breath of time, Dai Lo and I were in perfect harmony.

Moments like that must end, and ours did with her closing the door and putting me once again in the darkness.

I did my best with the rags. My undergarments, such as they were, were built for a body that I didn’t have. It was better than nothing. I dozed as the light cut through the cracks, the day passing with a slow and lazy pace that I wasn’t used to. By the time the night came around, I was weary but clearheaded. Creature or no creature, my goal was the same: survive. I had the strangest feeling that Dillard would be more pleased to find me dead—but assumedly contrite and obedient—than alive and unruly.

I had a decided preference. As night fell, I stared at the door. Waiting. Waiting for padded footfalls, for claws on the door. For the creature to make itself known.

But nothing came.

Nothing ever came. Not during the next day or night. Just the barest ration of food, enough water to keep me alive, and my own thoughts to keep me company.

On the fourth dawn, Miss Moon opened the door, and I fell through it, sprawling in the grass. Exhausted. Starving. My lips dry and cracked.

“Are you penitent?” she asked gently.

“Yes,” I coughed, through a broken throat, my tongue scraping along my lips. And though I knew it for a lie, I also knew it for the truth. I was penitent—if that meant I could leave the shed and stumble my way back into my bunk, my belly and my mind quiet.

I had to admit, HisBen knew what he was doing. By the time I stumbled out of the shed, I was ready to see life in the Settlement with different eyes. Miss Moon gave me water before escorting me to the boys’ bunk room, which was blessedly empty, and I made quick steps over to the area behind the curtain to attempt cleaning myself up.

I pulled the curtain, shutting off the room, and the reality of the situation presented itself. Despite Dai Lo’s treatment of my hands, they weren’t at their best. Panic nipped through me as I tried to figure out how I was going to take off my filthy shirt with all of its buttons, not using my hands, when I couldn’t ask for help.

The curtain rustled as Jesse limped in behind me. He took the clean clothing out of my battered paws and set it on the shelving. “There’s no way you’re managing with those mitts of yours.”

After days of deprivation and fear, it was too much. Panic shot through me, and I grabbed his wrist, stopping him. He stared at me, at first confused, but his expression quickly twisted to exasperation. He carefully peeled my battered hand off his wrist. “Dai Lo told me. About the rags. We figured you must have a good reason to be hiding such things.”

I stayed frozen, my eyes wide and nostrils flaring with each breath, like I was scenting the air for a predator. I couldn’t help it. Four days in the Penitent Box had reduced me to animal responses.

“Land’s sake, Faolan, we’re not going to turn you in or nothing. I don’t want to break in a new partner, and we all know you’d be miserable in the other bunkhouse. Calm down.” He undid the button on my sleeve. “I’m here to help, that’s all.”

I started to relax, only to stiffen back up when I realized that with my hands as rough as they were, I would need Jesse’s help washing. We were friends of a sort, but that didn’t mean I wanted him washing me any more than he wanted me washing him.

Jesse put his hands on his hips, his discomfort obvious even in my feral state. “Look here, I don’t exactly want to see you in your altogether, but we have to get you clean as a whistle, and we have to do it quickly. Dai Lo can’t sneak away. I’m your only option.” He looked at me intently. “I’m here to help, Faolan. That’s it. Promise.”

“Okay. Thank you, Jesse.” My voice came out rusty and abused, but it didn’t hide my gratitude. In that moment, I would have killed a body if Jesse asked me to. I was that grateful for his help.

“Alright, then, let’s hurry, because if we get caught right now, HisBen will find something worse than the Box.”

Jesse got my buttons undone, then poured hot water from the kettle into a bucket. He fished out the wet rag and soaped it up.

By then I was down to my skivvies, which I’d been sitting in for almost a week at this point. Jesse handed me the rag so I could get started on my face while he unwound the band.

“I don’t have a spare,” I warned, scrubbing quickly behind my ears. “You’re just going to have to put it back on.”

Jesse kept unwinding the binding. “Dai Lo got you some fresh cloth to use. I’m to sneak this filthy one to her at breakfast so she can wash it for you, since she can explain it away a lot better than you could.”

Bless Dai Lo down to her organized little toes. “Jesse, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I’m a little bit in love with your girl right now. Or in awe of. I can’t tell which.”

He snorted. “She does have that way about her. Hurry up, now.”

I washed my pits, dunking the rag back into the water frequently. Jesse helped me put on the clean chest binding, then held out clean drawers with his eyes closed so I could step into them. Nothing had ever felt so good.

“Please tell me you can manage the rags on your own,” Jesse said, offering me the bundle, his eyes still firmly shut.

My hands were a mess, but I did my best. Bathing had been hard enough, although between our haste, my exhaustion, and our overriding fear of someone catching us, we’d hardly had time for the awkwardness to truly set in.

“Done,” I said.

He opened his eyes and pointed at the bucket. “Before you put on new clothes, dunk your head. We can make quick work of your hair, since it’s so short.”

“Can’t it wait?” I asked, but I was already doing as he said.

“You stink, Faolan, and your hair is greasy. We don’t want to give HisBen any reason to pick on you today.”

I dunked my head. Jesse’s strong fingers scrubbed my scalp, before rinsing my hair over the bucket using the last of the water from the kettle. He handed me some toweling to dry my hair while he swiped at my feet, then slipped a clean sock on each one. In a second I was in my trousers and a new shirt, getting buttoned up.

“You’re not mad?” I asked, watching his face. As I’d been washing, it hit me how much I’d already come to rely on Jesse. He’d become my friend at some point—reluctantly, but my friend nonetheless—and I didn’t want to hurt him.

Jesse grunted, finishing off the last button. “Am I happy? No. Do I understand? Not entirely.” He shook his head as I pulled my suspenders up. “Will I want you to explain more when you have time? Yes.” He grabbed my boots off the floor. “Faolan, I haven’t known you long, but I know you’re a practical type. You’ve created this fiction for a reason, and I have to have faith that it will be a good one.”

“It is,” I said simply.

“Then we let it rest for now.” He eyed me carefully as he helped me get my boots on. “You okay?”

“Fit as a fiddle,” I mumbled, wincing as my split lip reopened. Jesse left the boots for a moment to hand me a canteen, and I drank deeply from it.

He wheezed a laugh. “Not like any fiddle I ever seen.”

I carefully slid my foot into the last boot, relaxing when my toes hit the familiar bundle of rags. Pops’s watch remained hidden. That would have to be enough for now.

While Jesse did up my boots, I ran a comb through my hair. Then we hustled out of the bunk and headed straight to services, barely sliding into the pew on time.

“Sacrifice,” HisBen said, his voice floating all the way up to the rafters. “Sometimes we must give of ourselves for the good of the few.”

I let HisBen’s baritone lull me. In my exhaustion, I was grateful for the little comforts. Warm pews, a friend at my side, the light on my face. Maybe this was how HisBen got people to enjoy his churching.

Spiritually fulfilled, I was herded straight from there to feed my earthly body at breakfast. Getting to stuff my cheeks with honey-sweetened oats dappled with dried berries after HisBen’s long sermon drew a correlation between the two for me. Listen to HisBen’s words, get food.

Perhaps I was weak, but I’d happily sign up for preaching if I knew it came with a filling meal, at least for a little while.

After breakfast, we went to our assigned roles. Jesse was still on rest, and the other trackers were paired up. None of them wanted or needed a third wheel, let alone a half-starved one. I had the whiff of pariah about me, I reckoned.

I couldn’t say I blamed them. As long as I was under Dillard’s jaundiced eye, I would be alone.

I was standing in the courtyard with my bag over my shoulder, wondering what to do with myself, when Miss Moon waved at me from across the courtyard, the gunslinger in tow. Mr.Speed was garbed in Settlement gear now, clean-shaven and clear-eyed, a rifle over his shoulder. I didn’t think he ever missed much, to be honest. As I watched, he reached out, touching her shoulder, and she smiled at him.

Both of them took advantage of the sunlight to get a good gander at me. I had the feeling that neither liked what they saw, but Miss Moon put a good face on it. “Will has offered to take Jesse’s place today.” Though she wore her usual calm expression, her eyes lit up when she looked at the gunslinger, like maybe he not only hung the moon but framed it with stars while he was at it. Couldn’t say I blamed her. William Speed was a handsome enough fella and, even when not compared to the slim pickings of the Settlement, cut a dashing figure.

“You’re feeding me, Esther, so it stands to reason that I should be doing my part.” He kept his face impartial as he silently assessed me, but I felt like the runt of the litter wriggling from someone’s fingertips while they decided if I was worth the feed. Then he turned to her and smiled. “I’m not too good at sitting on my hands anyway.”

We all smiled at each other and pretended like butter wouldn’t melt in our mouths. Miss Moon clasped her hands in front of her. “Faolan knows the route.” Her temporarily sunny disposition faltered a little. “You will stay on it today, yes? And be careful?”

I touched the tip of my hat in a respectful motion. My eyes felt gritty, my body ached from sleeping on the cold ground, and my split lip throbbed. I wasn’t saying I’d never stray off the path again, but I certainly wasn’t doing so today . “Wouldn’t dream of doing anything else.”

Sunny Miss Moon was back, eyes alight at both of us like we’d performed an unexpected but utterly delightful trick. The gunslinger and I stared at each other, and I felt we both got each other’s measure, before we turned as one and grinned back at her.

Moments later, both Mr.Speed and I walked to the gate, our features grim. I wasn’t sure what he had in mind, but I was dead certain it wasn’t just a neighborly notion of helping out.

The gunslinger refrained from saying his piece until we were passing into the tree line. Then he stopped, digging one hand into his pocket. He pulled out a handkerchief and a tin of salve. “You look like someone dragged you through a hedgerow backward and then tossed you back in for good measure.”

I grunted, taking the cloth from him and pressing it to my lip. He pried the tin open. The salve had a strong smell—lavender and comfrey, most likely.

“As soon as you get the bleeding to stop, you put this on, you hear?”

Until now, Mr.Speed, like me, had kept to himself. Not in an unfriendly way, but he didn’t go out of his way to dip his toe into my area of the Settlement’s business. Suddenly showing up to my aid, garbed as he was, and offering help, made me suspicious.

“Nice clothes.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Mine needed a good washing.”

I scoffed and regretted it, as it made the throbbing in my lip worse. “You’re not a very good liar, Mr.Speed.”

That earned me a quick flash of teeth. “Will, please. I’m actually an excellent liar.” He dipped his head down. “Let me see your lip.”

I showed him, and he nodded, offering the salve, so the bleeding must have stopped. He frowned at my hands. “Those don’t look good, either.”

“They’ve been treated.” I slicked some of the salve onto my mouth, feeling the balm of it almost instantly. My shoulders relaxed in relief.

“Well, they could use some salve, too, I reckon.” He shook his head. “You going to tell me what you did to get four days in the Box?”

As I rubbed the salve into my hands, I carefully weighed my response. My first instinct was to not say a word. My allegiance wasn’t so cheap that it could be bought with a hanky and some salve. I was halfway to a glib answer when I thought of that empty courtyard this morning, no one meeting my eye. I thought of my time in the Penitent Box. And I thought of sitting alone in the dark, listening to something feed.

It was possible that I had been going about this all wrong.

Maybe I didn’t need to keep my head down completely. Perhaps I needed to build a few alliances.

I didn’t need to regurgitate every little detail for Will, but would it hurt to give him something? Taking Jesse and Dai Lo into my confidences had only helped. I wasn’t going to suddenly become best friends with every soul in the Settlement, but Will seemed like a good person to cultivate. After all, he wasn’t part of the Settlement. He was an outsider here, like me. And unlike me, they couldn’t shove him in a box.

I’d been pondering it too long, if Will’s amusement was any sort of indication. He would be critical of anything I told him now, but that was okay. As far as he was concerned, I was a careful and quiet sort. I could practically hear Pops guffaw at that.

As I closed the lid and handed the balm over to Will, I gave him an edited version of Jesse’s and my adventures. We started walking along the path as we talked, and it was clear from the looks he was throwing me that Will knew I was leaving some things out. He didn’t need to know about the Rovers, and I was reluctant to mention them if I didn’t have to. It wasn’t that I assumed he wouldn’t treat fair with them, but that I knew in my bones that HisBen wouldn’t. Will didn’t push, though. He didn’t hide his skepticism, either. I respected him for that.

We stopped at the first trap, which had been triggered but was empty. I carefully reset it.

“Seems like a heavy-handed punishment, don’t you think?” Will asked. “Four days in the shed for going off trail?”

“Woods like these? Easy to get lost, I guess. They need to set an example.”

Will snorted. “Faolan, you’re small, not young, and despite occasional lapses, you’ve got a brain in that head somewhere.” He flicked the lid of my hat. “Anyone with a lick of sense can see you’re comfortable in these woods. They weren’t worried about you getting lost.”

I frowned at him. “Even experienced woodsmen can get turned around sometimes.”

He bent down so our gazes met. “That’s a stern talking-to and kitchen duty. Maybe digging privies. Not four days in a box .”

“I may have argued a little.” I straightened, resettling my pack. “And I got an added day for making noise.”

He shook his head, laughing. “You forget that I spent quite some time in the wagon with you, and in your bunkhouse. You don’t rattle. You keep your counsel.” He grabbed my wrist and held up my bedraggled hands. “And a few days sitting quietly in a shed wouldn’t make you try to dig your way out. Tell me about the Box.”

Again, I hesitated, searching his face. On the one hand, I was afraid he would laugh and tell me I was inventing things out of whole cloth. On the other…on the other, I was afraid he would take me seriously. I didn’t want what happened the first night in the Box to be real.

My head hurt, and out of pure exhaustion, I opened my mouth and let the entire thing spill out.

The gunslinger frowned as he listened. “Could have been an animal.”

“It could have been,” I said, but my tone said I didn’t put much faith into my words.

“None of the livestock got out, and no one has said a word about anyone missing.” Will adjusted his hat before propping his hands on his hips. He stared at me thoughtfully. “But you still think something happened.”

“I do,” I admitted.

He dropped his chin to his chest, his fingers tapping along his belt. When he looked up, his gaze was steely. “I want to see where you went off trail.”

I’d just spent four days in a box for this very reason, and promised Miss Moon, and he wanted me to hare off the first chance I got to do it again? Only a complete fool would even entertain the notion. But perhaps I was foolish. Or perhaps the Penitent Box hadn’t made me the least bit penitent.

As Pops would say, I was born contrary. Because I didn’t pause for more than a moment. “Follow me.”