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I sleep, my mind trapping mein a web of memories I’d sooner wish to forget. How long? Must I forever dream of Warbler’s agonizingscreams? Will Inever stop analyzing Creeper’s torturous death? How do I get the blood off myhands?

When I am finally lucid from my guiltsickness, I see Panther sitting calmly at the end of my bed. Mybloody clothes are missing from my body. I am dressed in myloose-fitting jeans and a stiff green work shirt that could reallyuse a good scrubbing. “Did you change my clothes for me?” Iinquire, a little surprised that the innocent seeming Panther woulddare to strip a woman naked in her own bedroom.

“I burned them,” hemutters, a tiny blush rising to his cheeks.

“Not very priestly ofyou.” I giggle softly before a groan rumbles in my throat.I sounded like Creeper. I used the samehalf-crazed laughter he did when he heard something amusing. Will Iever laugh and not think of him now? I still imagine Creeper’s eyesleering at me through the peepholes in my room. My hand trembles asI flash back to the moment when I pushed my knife through hisheart, listening to the sick, sucking thumps as his lifebloodspilled over me. I still see his tongue almost bitten clean throughfrom the pain. Taking a human life carriesits own baggage. I’ll never be able to forget that monster. Hisdeath will forever poison my thoughts.

“Mynah, you’ve gone pale!The skin around your mouth is as white as a sheet. What’s wrong?”Panther’s worried voice breaks through the darkness insideme.

“I’m just lamenting theloss of another good shirt,” I whisper, my eyes focusing on theimagined blood still staining my hands. When I blink, the vision isgone. “I’m going to have to do some laundry soon, or I’ll berunning around here wearing this ratty bed sheet.”

“You can’t seriously havestill wanted those clothes! They were stiff with blood,” Pantherexclaims in outrage. “No amount of washing could remove thosestains.”

“It would be considered abadge of honor in this House to wear that vile creature’s blood onmy sleeves,” I answer, my head spinning as I imagine that I seeCreeper’s eye peeping through the hole under my shelf. Anirrational fear threatens to overpower me. He can’t be there!He’s dead, I remindmyself. “Thought you could not touch blood, priest,” I accuse todisplace my frustration, regretting the sharpness of my tone theminute the words are spoken.

A look of extreme sorrow crossesPanther’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter now. After all that has beendone, there’s no way I’d be able to go back to a normal lifeanyway.”

“I am truly sorry,Panther.” My heart is sore for him. Thisland is its own curse; all who live here are tainted by its misery.It is one of my deepest regrets for this boy that he must denyhimself his dreams in order to survive.

“When it is you and me,just use my real name,” Panther pleads as he picks at tiny specksof lint that have attached themselves to his clothes.

“I can’t,” I whisperquietly. “You’ve seen what the rest of the House is like. Do youreally want any of them to be controlling you? If I say your realname aloud, I’ll only be putting you in more danger.” Panther shutshis mouth as the thought sinks into his mind.

Faintly I hear a whisperedscuttling near my door, as if someone is moving away from thepeephole. I sit up in bed, suddenly wary of whose eyes might bewatching us. Throwing a hand over my mouth to silence Panther, Itiptoe over to my door. Peeking through the peephole, I see no oneon the other side. Paranoia,I almost laugh at myself. He’s gone, you fool. Don’t give Creeper’s memory thesatisfaction of driving you mad.

Once I am convinced that Iam safe, I begin testing the strength of my limbs. After everythingI have endured, I am surprised that my hands still obey my wishes.My shoulders are sore, and my ankles crack when I twist them. Theskin on my back itches abominably as it heals, but the soreness hasreceded considerably. There is enough power left in these tiredbones to continue my plans. After I had watched the life seep outof Creeper’s eyes, after I’d exposed his pitifully broken face, Idecided to leave the House of Vultures. Iwill desert this place. I will become the nameless unchosen beforeI stay in this hole any longer. I cannot live in a House that willforever remind me of Warbler’s demise.

Panther raises his voice as I beginpacking a small knapsack. “What do you think you are doing? Youneed to rest—”

“You said that your peoplebelieve there is a weapon in the Pith,” I cut him off, searchingfor my good boots as I tie my jacket around my waist. “Somethingthat could change our fates forever.”

Panther sits frozen in place as heponders my words. “So?”

“So, tomorrow you and Iare going to take a little detour out to the edge of Omphalos. Ihave some money hidden away near the city walls, and I want to takeit with us just in case. I’m done with this House, Panther. I thinkI’d only been staying to protect Warbler, and I did a fantastic jobthere.” My eyes scan the room once more, doing a final check toascertain whether or not I have left anything important. “I willnot sleep another night under this roof.”

“What about Wolf? Does heknow of your plan?”

“We’ll join him when it’sdone. Once we know what is in the Pith, we will find him. Maybehe’ll be able to use it to rid this land of all the evil itholds.”

“What about the rest ofthe people in this House?” Panther asks me stoically.

“What about them, Panther?The only one that I truly cared about is the one I buried in ashallow grave. The rest of these people do not need me, and Icertainly can do better on my own,” I snap, pulling my pack onto myshoulders. “Will you come with me?”

My door slides open slowly, Condorlooming into my room. His mouth is set in a grim line as he speaks.“Good job, Wren. You said she’d open up if she was speaking to theboy.”

It takes a minute for Condor’sinsinuation to sink into my

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