House of Vultures

by Maggie Claire

  Wolf stares at me with his strange yellow eyes, unwilling to let me look away as he speaks. “Unlike your House of Vultures, I trust my people, Mynah. They are free to make their choices in their day to day lives, and if something major comes up, my third will keep them in line.”

  I feel heat rise to my cheeks under the mask. “Third? Not second in command?”

  Wolf grins at me, and I suspect I have, once again, walked right into a trap. “The second is my beta—you, when you are ready to claim the spot. Think about it, Mynah. Freedom for the rest of your life; you’d answer to no one but me. Apart from this nonsense with the boy, you’ve always proved yourself sensible. You’d have a long leash in my pack, Mynah.”

  Leash. The word reverberates in my skull as if it is the clang of a hammer on steel. Long or not, the very thought is enough to turn my stomach. Going to Wolf’s pack would only trade one master for another. I cannot stop the quaking of my spine or the chattering of my teeth. “Thank you for staying, Wolf. Go get some rest now.”

  “Oh no, you don’t get rid of me that easily,” Wolf growls as I approach the opposite side of the boy. “I am now as much a part of this as you are. I will be right here every step of the way. Live or die, we face this together.”

  “But what will you tell the others?” The idea of him staying terrifies me. Something about Wolf somehow manages to get under my skin, making me feel self-conscious and small. The thought of him observing me when I have no idea what I am doing makes my hands tremble. I don’t want you near me right now, I almost whisper. My tongue only stills when I realize that I should be grateful for all he has done.

  “I’ll say that I am trading favors with a girl from a lesser House.” Wolf cackles as I scowl, hand clenching as I daydream about punching that strong jaw. He winces as he catches my fist before I throw a punch, bending those fingers that had been dislocated or broken. I find myself checking them despite my anger at his words. “Well, it isn’t exactly a lie either. It’s the word ‘favor’ that is subjective. And it will stop my pack from trying to find me. What about you? What will you say?”

  As I re-wrap the bandages that need to be changed from Wolf’s injuries, I tell him about my punishment deal with Condor, how I carefully staved off his advances. “It worked out well actually,” I finish lamely as Wolf glares at the rock walls. His mask quivers with his fury, the claws around his fingernails digging deep grooves into his thighs.

  “I’ll rip out his throat, I swear it,” Wolf vows. “If he ever touches you—”

  “If he ever touches me like that, you won’t get the chance. I will kill him myself.”

  Wolf smirks at my words, but the rage in his eyes doesn’t disappear. Nor does the look quell with my reassurances. Wolf growls deep in his throat, his fingers gripping an invisible victim. There is a madness in him, a fierce protectiveness that almost causes him to go insane with fury. I’d never had any reason to notice it before, but the sight of his unhinged persona fills me with worry. “Wolf?”

  Wolf shudders, awakening himself as if from a nightmare, and picks up the rags and bowl from beside the boy. “I will change out the water.”

  Grateful to be alone at this moment, I observe the boy’s injuries, watching his fevered body shake. Guiltily, I note that in my heart, I am not comforted to see him living, despite all the efforts being made on his behalf. If he were to die of natural causes, to succumb to his injuries, I would not feel responsible anymore. Splitting hairs over his life only fills me with sadness at my own calloused heart.

  Suddenly, his uncanny blue-violet eyes flutter open, chest heaving as his heart races. He drifts his gaze over me, not quite seeing where we are.

  “What is your name? What house do you belong to?” I beg for answers, laying my hand on his forehead. His skin is unbearably hot, but the feel of human skin—a human face—makes me close my eyes in wonder.

  “Antero.”

  “Antero?” I repeat, eyes widening in surprise.

  “My name,” he gulps. “Antero.”

  For a moment the world seems to stop moving. My body freezes in stillness, my hand almost clawing into the boy’s forehead. He shared his real name. I cannot believe it! True names equal power, connecting the named one with the knowledge bearer. No one ever shares his or her real name with another being, since even before Cassé was destroyed. Even some married couples never learn each other’s true names.

  I feel a flicker of that power growing deep inside me, like a tiny flower budding its small petals in spring. I can do anything with him, and he will be forced to obey my every whim. I can heal or kill him with a command. I can force him to walk off a cliff, burn himself alive, starve, or plunge a knife into his own heart. I can will him to live, share my own strength with him, or not. Whatever I desire, he will be forced to comply. The power radiates through my bones, a heady force that overwhelms my senses. I lean over the boy, wiping sweat from his eyebrows. “Antero, look at me,” I will as I speak. His eyes focus on me despite his fever, and a shiver of pleasure ripples over me. “Fight this fever. Heal. Let your body fix itself.”

  The words burn my tongue as the influence within them flows over Antero’s face. I feel my energy drain as it is drawn into Antero’s body in an effort to speed his recovery. His body ceases convulsing immediately, his breathing slowing to a normal rate. He falls into a deep, restful sleep as I draw my hand away.

  “What did you do?” Wolf returns with the rags, stopping speechlessly as he recognizes the boy’s change. He cannot know Antero’s name, I think selfishly, enjoying the control that I hold. For now, this authority is entirely my own—let it stay that way forever!

  “Leave him. He will be fine,” I whisper without answering his question. “I will come check on him before I go home. For now, I need to get treasures for today’s quota.”

  “The old-fashioned gamble in the woods, or Omphalos again?” Wolf groans as he rubs his jaw, already making the decision to head to the city.

  “It’s strange: I make it a point to never go into that place, and here I am planning my second trip in two days.” Reaching out to Wolf, he steadies me as I stand up beside the boy. “Wolf, I’ve still got most of Shark’s gold from yesterday. We can try to use it instead of trading blows. We can even go down to the poorer markets near the River Sangre. You don’t need to fight.”

  “Actually, I do,” Wolf interjects before I can present my plan any further. “Save the gold for when you have to deal with this one.” He jerks his head at Antero. Antero. I repeat, relishing the knowledge of another creature’s real name. I have said it to myself now even more than I’ve even acknowledged my own true name.

  Wolf stretches his arms and legs, twisting his neck with an audible crack, learning where his weaknesses are before he enters another fight. “We are trading with the House of Lions today, Mynah. I have a bone to pick with their leader. You’ll be able to take anything you need when I am through.”

  ***

  This time when we enter the city together, the people standing by their tables straighten and scowl. Conversations fall silent as we pass the vendors. Even fighting traders postpone their sales as they wait to see what we will do next. Wolf slides his arm around my hip with a smirk, his mask nuzzling into my neck with his closeness.

  “Play along, Mynah,” Wolf breathes into my ear as he continues his affections. “We’re supposed to be lovers, remember? Act like you are pleased.”

  I know what he says makes sense, but the thought of those jagged teeth and the cured head of that wolf carcass looming close to my face just makes me cringe.

  “Come on, Mynah!” Wolf insists, his voice a little harsher as he grazes his lips on my collarbone. “You’re acting like a frigid little bit—”

  From some deep, inner strength that even I was not aware I had, I manage to wrap my arms around his shoulders. I hug him close to me, closing my eyes so that I do not have to see the empty sockets of the carcass’s eyes. “Hurry up with your business, Wolf. I’m ready to g
et out of this place.” The men at the closest table alert me to their eavesdropping when they snicker at the unintended implication of my words.

  “Better,” Wolf whispers, stroking his clawed fingers through my hair. “Their guards will lower if we sell this act. It will be easier to attack.” Chancing glances as he guides us up to the House of Lions’ tables, I realize he is right. Everyone relaxes as they assume we are just two lovers out on a shopping spree. Even Lion does not seem worried about Wolf as we angle ourselves up to his position.

  “Back again so soon?” The House of Lions leader challenges as we stand before his table. He ogles me as he exclaims, “You’re a greedy one, aren’t you?”

  “I just want meat and money,” I reply smoothly, not showing the terror I feel. You’ll be able to take anything you need, Wolf had said before entering Omphalos. That can only mean that Wolf intends to absorb the House of Lions into his own pack. I know that I am about to witness a fight to the death. My words may be among the last ones ever spoken to this man.

  “Short list today. Did you think your boy can’t handle more than two punches from me?” Lion snickers at his own joke. The mask bears a real lion’s mane around its edges, blending seamlessly with his natural hair. He turns his head to speak to a member of his House behind him, and I notice a faint birthmark at the nape of his neck. An image forms in my memory, a face that I have not seen in such a long time. I know this person, from the time before our people donned masks. Yet his identity blurs in my mind.

  Wolf stands stiffly beside me. His teeth bare at the leader as he sneers. “Do you know Lynx?”

  Lion grins and elbows the guy beside him. “Lookie here, boys! Our wolf pup is going to fight for a girl’s honor! Will the wonders never cease?” Lion plants his hands on his table, mask slipping slightly on his left ear. “Did I take your woman, pup? Did she tell you all the gory details?”

  Lion reaches across the table to lightly tap my hand in mocked consolation. “And here I thought wolves mated for life! Better watch out, Little Bird, your big bad Wolf’s got his claws in other coops, if you catch my drift. How does it feel, knowing that you play second fiddle to a feisty little wildcat? How can you stay with this Wolf pup, when you see how he loves another? Why not come into my house, Little Bird? Let me show you—”

  “Do you know that she is pregnant?” Wolf flexes his fingers to extend the length of the claws. He shifts his body quickly, shoving me behind him in the process.

  Little Bird. I hear his voice whisper in my thoughts. I recognize the timbre of his voice. The stranger’s face appears to me once more, this time at my home before Cassé became a land of scavengers and thieves. His fiery hair stands out against the turquoise front door. I remember my mother embracing this man, ushering him inside for a visit. He sits across from me at the table; his piercing blue eyes had little lines that crinkled around the edges when he smiled. I’ve seen you with my family. Who are you really, Lion? I search my memories, desperate for an answer before Wolf attacks.

  Lion howls with laughter, shaking the mane of his mask. “A lion and a lynx, huh? Wonder what kind of mutant kit she’ll have.” He mocks the girl he had abused, reliving his conquest to the jeers of the rest of his House.

  Wolf snarls as he reaches for Lion’s arm. “Will you meet my bargain?” I raise my voice over the tension building between the two males. I struggle to keep my lips from trembling, blocking out the knowledge that whatever Lion says will result in a fight. If he answers affirmatively, Wolf will battle against him in trade. If he says no, then Wolf will have reason to attack, feeling insulted by Lion’s refusal.

  Lion sneers, his wide mouth opening to show a chipped front tooth. “Not a chance. Not for Wolf’s bitch.”

  Before any of the observing crowd can react, Wolf grazes a hand over Lion’s ear. One of his claws purposefully catches the cord holding Lion’s mask to his face. It falls to the table with a clatter, a strong jawed male staring up in horror. The face, a mirror image of the one in my mind.

  “Look away, Mynah,” Wolf commands gruffly, turning my body toward his own. “You do not need to see this.”

  I agree without comment, pressing my face into his chest to block out all light, so I do not have to witness the man get ripped to shreds by his own House. Once your face has been seen, you lose your anonymity. To be unmasked, you become like the unchosen nameless. Only your former House does not give you the opportunity to escape.

  Tufts of hair and mane float through the air, scraping my arms as the wails and howls of pain rage around us. While I appreciate not having to watch the death of the man, there is nothing I can do to stop hearing it. The crunch of a boot on bone, the sickening crack of a bat on flesh, and the deafening snap of a mask being broken. The garbled scream of a blood-filled mouth, the dull thud of kicks landing in the softer parts of his stomach. The final, rushing hiss of a last breath expelling from his lungs, like a whimper. I feel tears slipping down my cheek as Wolf steps around me toward the scene, gathering meat for me and emptying the cash box into his coin pouch.

  “Your House is dissolved,” Wolf announces over the broken body of Lion. “Your people have a choice. Join the House of Wolves or forsake your masks and be hunted as the unchosen. You have until sunrise to comply. My pack will come to claim your lands in the morning.” He pulls me numbly behind him as we scurry from the city.

  Everyone lets us pass, shocked into stillness at what has occurred. The air seems heavy, as if it is filled with the memory of Lion’s screams. Soon the mutterings will begin as people question whether or not Wolf had the right to remove Lion’s mask. Was the crime proportional to the sentence? Or did Wolf overstep his bounds, giving other houses the right to attack him in retaliation? I want to be as far from Omphalos as possible before the people start voicing their thoughts on this incident.

  We pass the city gates and enter the forest without incident.

  “Mynah?” Wolf brushes a hand over my hair when I do not speak. “You do agree with what I did, don’t you? That man has hurt countless women. It’s the first time he’s attacked one of my own, and that gave me the chance to see justice done.” Wolf sits me down on an exposed tree root, uncorking a canteen and passing it to me. I cannot force myself to drink, nor can I find the words to answer his question. All I keep seeing is that broken body under the vendors’ tables, business resuming as if a man hasn’t just been murdered. “Mynah?”

  “I get it,” I snap. “I just have to deal with what I’ve witnessed, move on, and that’s that.” I curl in on myself, clenching my eyelids together to stop the tears from falling.

  “That’s not it at all,” Wolf whispers, throwing his arms around me. “I don’t like what had to be done either. But I couldn’t let that monster keep roaming the streets. What if he attacked you?” Wolf’s claws tangle in my hair, knotting it into little white puffs as he pulls me against his chest. “I couldn’t bear it if he’d hurt you like that, Mynah. Please try to understand.”

  I need to be alone. I can feel the air in my lungs burning, as though I cannot release it to draw a fresh breath. “Is that why you want my mask off too?” I accuse, knowing it is a lie. I say it only to get Wolf to leave. “Not to kiss me at all, but to have a reason to kill me?”

  My words find their mark, and Wolf drops his hold on me as though the touch of my skin scorches him. I just need a moment of space and peace to process what I am feeling. I don’t care if I have hurt him, nor do I think about everything he has done for me over the last two days and all the other times before. I don’t even care that he can easily kill me if he chooses.

  Wolf raises the meat pouches off the roots, slinging them onto his back. He drops his coin pouch between my feet. “Hide this somewhere. There should be enough money to keep your boy out of trouble with the guards when it comes time for him to escape.” Wolf’s voice is gruff as he walks away from me. “Go check on him. I will get the food back to your House.”

  Wolf is long gone by the time my tears fall,
when I grieve over all that I have witnessed in Omphalos. I force the image of Lion’s broken body out of my thoughts, deep inside myself where no one will know the truth.

  Lion was my uncle. I see it all so clearly in my memory now. He was my father’s brother, and he spent one weekend a month at my house before the windstorm. “Come here, Little Bird,” he used to beckon me after supper, calling me over to his lap to tell me his adventure stories. He worked as a trader near the edge of the Devil’s Spine Mountains, so his tales were always fanciful. I remember that he always smelled like cinnamon and leather. My mother would have to pry me away from his side when my bedtime came. She always hated his visits, but I never understood why.

  That is the man that I remember, not the monster who harmed so many women. I had just witnessed his pleadings for mercy. His cries for help still seem to echo around me. I stood mute while he was ripped apart by his own people. How could I do that? Now, I am the only one left of my family line.

  No…Lynx’s child will be my relative too.

  The thought fills me with a sense of foreboding. If I tell anyone that I know I am related to that child, I will be condemning him or her before birth. Knowledge of familial identity brings death, even to a child. It is different when you are born from masked parents—they know their parents by their masks, but not their biological identities. Children of masked parents cover their faces with masks that detail their lineage until they choose their own house. Once they are about ten years old, they are taken from their house of birth, forced to leave those who know their parents. That’s when the true naming and masking rituals are done. The children choose their real names, keeping the knowledge to themselves. Then they decide which house they will join and pick a corresponding mask to match. At least if I keep my knowledge to myself, Lynx’s child has a fighting chance.