Page 21 of Red in Tooth and Claw

Chapter Twenty-one

I had never killed a body before.

Never occurred to me that I would.

From the expression on his face, it hadn’t occurred to Stuckley, either.

He looked surprised.

He fell forward then, and I tried to roll away. His blood flowed over my shirt, hot and sticky. I threw up again at the feel of it, dry heaving onto the cave floor, which made my aching head even worse.

For being so skinny, Stuckley was heavy on my back. I crawled blindly away, but he seemed to come with me, a twitching, moaning weight.

Desperate, I rolled to the side. He managed to stay attached, his dying hands clutching at my clothes.

The cavern floor, so smooth and solid beneath me, suddenly gave way, and we both tumbled in, the cave swallowing us whole.

I hit the ground hard, pain clawing at my side. My ribs, probably breaking. I’d been managing to stay conscious through a mix of stubbornness and fear, but that pain proved too much, even for me, and I passed out again.

Blessedly.

When I woke up, Stuckley was dead, his body already cooling against mine. I had a passing thought that Dai Lo would be jealous—here I was, another corpse on my hands, and she’d never get to look at it.

I started laughing, and it hurt.

Something growled in the darkness.

I froze.

There are moments in life when you’re so afraid that you go over the edge of fear and into an entirely different feeling. A body can only take so much.

I’d been cracked in the head, tied up, and my wrists were a ragged mess. At least one of my ribs felt broken, I’d killed a man, and was currently trapped under his corpse. I should have been terrified of that rasping growl so strange to my ears, but frankly, I was fed up.

“Don’t you growl at me,” I snapped. “I didn’t interrupt your nap. He did.” I rolled Stuckley off me, shoving away his body, moving it toward the growling sound. “So if you’re mad, you get mad at him.”

My energy spent, I flopped back down onto the cold floor of the cave. Everything hurt. “Now let me die in peace.”

I became insensible for a spell, and I do not know how long it lasted. Hours would be my guess. Lights danced in front of my eyes, soft blues and purples. Giddy things, drunkenly swirling about. I drifted in and out of consciousness to strange sounds I’d never heard before. I knew I was dying, and I opened my arms to the old gods, hoping to see my grandparents again.

At one point I awoke and started crying, overwhelmed with feelings that didn’t seem my own. Loneliness. Such soul-wrecking loneliness. I cried for that feeling, and when that didn’t seem enough, I began to sing lullabies and comfort songs.

Singing hurt. Oh, how it hurt. My entire body a chorus of pain. But I did it anyway. I sang with all my heart, saying it wasn’t alone. Whatever it was, it wasn’t alone.

I grew warm then, like something had curled up against my side. I reached over and my fingers met the softest fur.

This was it.

I was finally dying, seeing things in this world that weren’t there. Hearing sounds that couldn’t be, feeling things that didn’t exist.

Still, fear refused to find me. Instead, I found great comfort. I curled up against the warmth, sighed, and went into a natural sleep.

To my great surprise, I woke up. To my greater surprise, I woke up to a lantern dangling above me in the darkness. The light from it lovingly traced the gunslinger’s face. He was a handsome man, truth be told, and I could see what Miss Moon saw in him.

Right now, he looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

I grinned at him. “You should ask those lawyers for a raise,” I slurred. “As this is above and beyond your call of duty.”

The gunslinger swore. “Saints alive, Faolan, I thought you were dead.”

“Me too,” I said. “And I’m still not sure I’m not.”

“You certainly have that look about you. I’ve been searching for you for hours. Missed one of your trail signs and had to double back.” He shook his head slightly and gave a low whistle. “I can’t tell whether you’re the unluckiest person I’ve ever met or the luckiest. Can you stand?”

“I’m not certain.” I spent the next several minutes attempting to sit up. It went marginally well, as I didn’t have anything left to throw up, though the act of heaving made pain flash through my ribs and skull. Eventually I ended up leaning against the cave wall.

The gunslinger held his lantern higher. “That Stuckley?”

“Yup.”

“Can he stand?”

“No, sir, he cannot.” I laughed then, and it had a hysterical edge to it, until the pain made me stop.

The gunslinger eyed me in the dim light. “All that blood yours?”

“Some of it’s mine, some of it’s Stuckley’s. I’m not sure how much of either. Am I going to need to climb out of here, because I’m not sure if I’m able…” My words petered out as something moved in the darkness. Steps padded forward, hesitant. Wary.

I saw his feet first. Large, ghostly white paws. Another step revealed chest and face as he moved into the small puddle of light. A large catlike creature came toward me. Lithe and powerful. Purplish rosettes on slick white fur. Whiskers. A lean face. Eyes a deep, cool blue.

I’d never seen the like.

“What is that?” The gunslinger breathed.

“I don’t rightly know,” I said, but I held my fingers out. My hand was shaky, but it wasn’t from fear. I had a bone-deep conviction that this creature wouldn’t hurt me. He sniffed my fingers, hot air wafting over them.

“That what killed Cartwright?” he asked.

I looked into the cat’s face. Glanced at his paws. “No. He’s too small.”

“He doesn’t look small to me,” Will said, and I quietly agreed. “Looks bigger than a cougar from here, anyway.”

“I don’t think,” I said slowly, “that he’s done growing, whatever he is.” Now that I’d had a good look at him, the cat had that gangly, slightly awkward look of a juvenile.

“He going to let me take you out of your hole?” Will asked.

The cat chuffed over my fingers and sneezed.

“Only one way to find out,” I said.

After a little trial and error, Will managed to pull me up with a rope. He’d made a loop, lowered it, and I put it over my head and under my arms. It hurt like you wouldn’t believe, being pulled like that after what I’d been through, but I survived. Will landed me like a fish onto the edge of the hole, and I panted there, every inch of me in agony. A second later, there was a scrambling noise, and then a thud as the cat landed next to me.

Will didn’t move. Barely breathed. The cat turned his head toward Will, scenting him like he did me. The cat made a sound then, almost a chirp.

“He’s a friend,” I said. “You leave him be, now.” To my surprise, the cat returned to my side.

Will handed me the lantern. “I’m going to have to carry you out of here. You hold on to the light.”

“My pack,” I said. “Grab my pack.”

Will took a few seconds to locate my pack. He slung it over his shoulder, then tried to pick me up, the pack sliding back down and getting in the way. “I might have to make two trips.”

I wanted out of the cave badly and said as such. To my surprise, the cat padded over, clamped his teeth over part of the bag, picked it up, and trotted off with it. He stopped a few feet away, looking back, waiting.

“I’m beginning to wonder if I hit my head or something,” Will said.

“Well, wonder outside. I have hit my head, and I want free of this wretched tomb.”

Will scooped me up. “What about Stuckley?”

“My concern for Stuckley fled at the same time he decided to truss me up and take out my eyes.”

Will shuddered but didn’t say anything.

Getting back out seemed to be much faster than getting in, though Will paused a few feet from the entrance. We waited until our eyes were comfortable again with the light before attempting the tricky business that was getting through the jagged wooden covering of the cave. Will ended up kicking a few more of the boards away.

Once we were through, he sat me down gently on the dirt. The light was fading fast, night coming on quickly. I’d been in that cave most of the day. It felt like longer.

Will used his field knife to cut away at the bindings on my ankles. That done, he handed me his canteen. I rinsed my mouth and spat before taking a sizable drink.

He watched me carefully. “You should see yourself. You looked bad in the cave. Out here”—he resettled his hat back on his head—“you’re a sight, and not a good one, for all that I’m pleased you’re alive.” He shook his head. “We need to get you some medical attention. Esther—”

“I can’t go back to the Settlement, not like this.” To be honest, I wasn’t sure I was going to go anywhere. The gunslinger was a robust man, but he couldn’t carry me forever.

“You need a healer.” He sighed, gaze traveling along the trees. He rubbed an arm over his face. “You want me to take you to the Rovers, don’t you?”

Now, that idea had some merit to it. “I do.” I took another long sip of the canteen. Had water ever tasted so sweet?

Will tipped his head up at the sky. “Night’s coming on and the Rover camp is in the other direction, past the Settlement. I can carry you, but I’m not sure I can carry you that far.”

“I’m open to other suggestions, but you can’t take me back to the Settlement like this. You know it, and I know it.” I was no longer worried about the Penitent Box. If I came back like this, Stuckley’s blood all over my person?

It was finally, truly sinking in. I’d killed a man. My fingers started to shake. I didn’t even know I was crying until Will handed me his handkerchief.

He cursed. “Don’t do that. Please don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, wiping at my face.

Will set his hands on his hips. “It’s gruesome. Looks like you’re crying blood.”

That surprised a laugh out of me, and it made my ribs hurt. “I thought you were telling me not to cry over Stuckley.”

“You can cry over whoever you wish, once we get you washed up so you don’t look like the quiet fields done spit you up for tasting bad.” He adjusted his hat. “Well, I reckon dithering over it isn’t going to make this any less difficult.”

The gunslinger dropped down, making it easier for me to climb up onto his back, though easier was a misleading term. I’d used up most of my energy leaving the cave, and my entire body had gone from a chorus of pain to doing the melody in rounds, the screaming from every muscle and bruised bone overlapping the other.

He slung his own pack, which he’d left at the opening of the cave, onto his front, the creature padding alongside us, my bag clutched between pointed teeth. It didn’t move like any cat I’d seen before. All cats move like shadows, lithe and soft-footed. This creature moved like the shadow’s own shadow. I couldn’t hear it over our footsteps.

It was a long trek, and whenever Will needed a break, I’d try to walk a bit. I didn’t make much progress that way, and Will was concerned I’d injure myself more, but I’m a stubborn thing and insisted. On one of the breaks, Will had me try a few bites of a roll from his pack, tossing a rangy hare from one of the Settlement’s snares to the cat.

The large feline sniffed at it before lying on his belly, the hare between his paws as he tore it apart easily. My meal didn’t go as well. I took three bites before I sicked it all up in the grass. Will took the roll away. “No more until you see a healer.”

I will admit that I lost track of things shortly after that, since I passed out once the gunslinger got me up on his back again.

When I regained consciousness, it was to the sound of a pitched verbal battle.

Squinting against the light of several lanterns, it took me a few moments to parse out the different voices—Will’s angry voice, followed by Sergio’s. The Rover’s tone like nothing I’d ever heard from him before. I’d never heard him yell.

Tallis’s voice entered the fray, like a hound harrying game, and I wasn’t sure whose side he’d taken. I wasn’t getting words yet, just tone.

Finally, the words filtered in.

“She looks half dead, Uncle!” Tallis bit out.

“Looks?” the gunslinger snarled. “She is half dead. She needs a healer.”

“We cannot let her into camp,” Sergio spit. “She stinks of dark workings.”

They continued verbally circling each other. I started to pass out again, but a rough tongue on my cheek startled me awake. The cat thing was trying to keep me conscious. I blinked at him but couldn’t actually see him until he moved and his eyes reflected the lantern light.

My trembling fingers met slick fur, but I still couldn’t see what I was touching. Just the long grass of the hillside behind us. The twinkling stars. How hard had I hit my head?

As the men argued, I heard a set of soft footsteps. I leaned my head back to see Zara, the healer’s leather satchel in her arms, Anna herself at her side.

Anna dropped down on her haunches to get a closer look. That was when the creature decided to make himself known. Where there had been seemingly empty space was suddenly filled with a pissed-off feline. He growled, a strange mix of hiss and scream. The sound drew shivers up my spine, as did the sight of the sharp teeth in his jaws.

Anna froze, and suddenly the group was silent.

I was hit with a strange wave of emotions that felt distinctly different from my own, and I knew the growl for what it had been—a warning. I was wounded and the creature didn’t like strangers approaching me. The cat creature knew I was okay with the gunslinger, but Tallis and his people were new to him.

I touched his shoulder tentatively. “It’s okay. They’re here to help.”

The cat turned those bright blue eyes on me and chirped a question.

“It’s okay,” I repeated. I slowly reached out and touched Anna’s coat sleeve. “Friends.”

The cat relaxed into a more settled position, doing this odd snarl-talking, almost like he was complaining, reminding me of when Pops would grumble about something. Like the cat didn’t agree with my choices but would go along with my foolheaded notion.

Anna let out a slow breath. “Oh, child. What have you done?”

I settled a weary hand on the cat’s back. “Same as I ever done. Survived.” I tilted my chin back so I could see her better. “Are you going to help, or was this a fool’s errand?” I coughed, my ribs squeezing in pain. When she didn’t move, I patted the cat carefully, my fingers still not quite working right. “He won’t hurt you.”

Anna studied us for a long moment before she seemed to shrug and reached for her bag. “It is in your best interest that he does not.”

Zara grasped her shoulder, speaking softly in their language, but not soft enough. “Are you sure about this, my heart?”

Anna began digging through her bag. “It’s this or let her die. I don’t want that on my conscience.”

Her hands were chilly but careful as she examined me in the light of the lantern. After a few moments, she settled back on her haunches. “This is no good. I need my wagon.”

The men had been silent, but now Sergio broke in. “She cannot come into our camp, not like that.”

“You can’t leave her here to die, either, Uncle.” Fury coated Tallis’s words.

Anna, ever practical, sliced through the beginnings of their argument. “Then you will bring my wagon to me. Quickly, if you please.”