House of Vultures, Maggie Claire [fun to read .txt] 📗

could not speak. Hecould not open his left eye at all. Hawk used his good eye to lookat the table beside the bed, to the long, serrated blade stickingits tip into the wood. His eyes focused on me, and a small whimpererupted from his lips. Do this for me,little Mynah, he seemed to whisper.Put an end to my misery.

My fingers shook soviolently I dropped the blade twice. “Are you sure?” I whimpered,begging him to give me some indication that I was mistaken. I cutthrough the bindings on his wrists and ankles, but Hawk was toobadly beaten. I saw the blood pooling around his back, a deep gashon his stomach sluggishly expelling his life force.He’s dying already, Iforced myself to acknowledge. He’s losttoo much blood to survive.

Hawk managed to lift his broken hand,moaning in agony as he tapped the blade. Then, raising hisshattered fingers, he pointed to the skin under hischin.

I leaned down and kissed Hawk’sswollen forehead. “You saved me once.” My voice broke on the words.“My debt is repaid.” Hawk’s mouth quirked in a tiny smile as Iscraped the knife across his throat, my tears mixing with hisspraying blood. “I’m so sorry, my friend,” I choked, my eyes gluedto the pulsing blood emptying around his head. I hurried away as hegurgled his last breaths, vomiting in the bathroom as Igrieved.

When my hands had stopped shaking Irinsed them in the sink. That knife had stayed with me, and it doeseven now, I realize as I run my hand along the blade. My handsstill seem stained with blood; no amount of washing can get meclean. My eyes behind the mask were hollow, and I had almost takenit off, stopping only as I remembered the peepholes Creeper alwaysdrilled to watch the girls as they bathed. Even here I was notsafe.

Condor and Falcon waited outside thedoor. “Your first kill,” Falcon muttered with a wicked smile as shehugged me to her chest. Violence was the only thing that made hertruly happy. “It is time to celebrate!”

Condor nodded to me as I stumbled outthe door, his mouth as stoic as the rest of his mask. “Let me helpyou,” he whispered when I nearly collapsed.

“Get away from me!” Iscreamed, throwing my hands over my face. “Why did you let Falconhurt him? What did Hawk do to you?”

“Mynah,” Condor began, hismouth forming a grim line as he dropped his head. “I know that youcared for him. But there were things about our leader that you didnot know. I am sorry that you had to—”

“I killed him. Holy gods,I killed him!” I wailed, unable to move from my place on theground. This time, I had no strength left in me to ward offCondor’s aid. He carried me to my room and left me sitting on mybed. He said nothing to me as he pulled the door closed, butWarbler scratched at my door a few moments later. I had alwayssuspected that he had sent her to me, but I’d neverasked.

Only Warbler had understood the pain,the loss, the guilt that I felt that night as Falcon led the othersinto a drunken stupor in my honor. Warbler had held me as I cried.She was barely ten at the time, so I did not divulge anything aboutwhat I had done. However, I think she knew, for it was shortlyafter that incident that she became too afraid to leave theHouse.

***

“What happens now, Mynah?”Antero asks uneasily, and when I look at him, I see myself. Irecognize that wide eyed, frightened expression that no doubt I hadthe night that I killed our leader. I’d had enough death andsorrows that day to last me for the rest of my life.

I shake my head to exorcize my ghosts.“Now, I decide what to do with you.”

***

“I know you’re hidingsomething, Mynah,” whispers a voice as soft as silk when I steponto the rickety steps of the House. A figure dressed like thedarkness, with a mask of glossy feathers, hides at the end of theporch. When he opens his unusually clear eyes, I know exactly whoit is, for only one member of the House is this good at intrigue.The fact that he is questioning me makes my feet rattle in theirholey boots.

“Wren,” I breathe as hestretches lazily in the old porch swing. Despite his nonchalance, Iknow him well enough to realize that every move, every word I speakis under scrutiny. “What are you talking about?” Even to my ears,my voice sounds as skittish as a frightened dove’s coo.

“Your patterns havechanged. You volunteered for eight weeks of morning shifts, whenyou and I both know that you hate being up that early. You havegone into the city twice in two days, when I know how much youloathe it.” Wren stalks closer to inspect my expression for anysigns of deception. “You are allying with Wolf.”

There is a question in his tone, achance for me to come clean before he takes his suspicions anyfurther. Tell him about Antero and I keep my place in the Housewithout question, or lie and run the risk of getting caught.Punishment for such behavior will no doubt be worse that what Lionendured. My tongue lays dormant in my mouth, unable to find a wayout of this situation.

“Why would Wolf chooseyou? You aren’t much to look at in your patchy clothes, and yourmask does nothing to accentuate your visible features. Yourpersonality is, at best, prickly. So, what does Wolf want withyou?” Wren asks himself, circling me during his assessment. Hecoolly observes matted hair, my blood-stained shirt, my dry anddirty hands, my ratty shoes that are caked in cave dust. I amcertain that in Wren’s eyes every one of these things is a sign ofmy treachery.

“Thank you for such aglowing review,” I mumble, my smart mouth outweighing my betterjudgement. Wren pauses before me, his calculating eyes glitteringas he cocks his head to the side. “Why do you think Wolf would wantto meet with me?” I counter, hoping to manipulate the conversationso that I am the one in control.

“Aren’t your House membersallowed a personal life?” Wolf looms up from the shadows behind me,a