Monstrous

by MarcyKate Connolly

  I am the abomination.

  I am monstrous.

  And the man who made me is even worse.

  It would be so easy to kill him now and be done with it. My claws snap out, and my tail coils around his neck. He may be a wizard, but he is still made of flesh and bone. His black heart is still human.

  One squeeze of my tail and I could crush his windpipe. Snap his neck. Remove any chance he might ever terrorize another city.

  He did more than just deceive me. He tore me from my true family—from Oliver, and Ren, and the mother whose face I still cannot glimpse in my memories.

  He killed my mother. He killed me.

  He murdered who knows how many other girls and hybrids and animals in pursuit of crafting the creature I’ve become.

  He took everything that made me human and transformed me into this mockery of my former self. A mishmash of parts, designed to do his bidding.

  No one should hate him more than me. Surely killing him would be serving justice.

  But there is a price.

  I will not survive it. Killing Barnabas means killing myself. Being incinerated by magic.

  I would never see Batu or Ren or Oliver again. No more sunrises or sunsets. No more roses.

  Tears stream over my cheeks. Death is final. There is no turning back from that.

  Barnabas shudders and coughs. I’m startled, and my tail recoils on instinct.

  I can’t do it.

  Panic lifts me up and I fly out of the ravine, settling back onto the forest floor.

  I blink back tears and run deeper into the forest, away from the fires. I have not forgotten what I set out to do this morning. I must find Ren and say good-bye, no matter how much he hates me. But now that the forest is on fire, I must find Batu, and warn him of the very real danger.

  I take a circuitous route to the river in case I’m followed. Many times, I soar above the trees to see who or what might be lurking near. I skirt several search parties this way. When the coast is clear enough, I settle down on a boulder near the river that I have never seen there before. I smile, certain it is Batu. The dank metallic scent gives him away. He must have been looking for me.

  “Brother dragon,” I whisper, and the rock begins to transform. Snout materializes first, then shimmering wings flap away from the stone. Soon he stands on his haunches at full height.

  Sister. You have been all over the forest this day. Your scent is so strong, it made me curious.

  “There are men in the forest, Batu. They’re burning it.” I glance at the trees on the far side of the river. Smoke curls out of the woods like dark, murky fog. “It hasn’t reached this side of the forest yet, but it might. You must flee.”

  Men are foolish. But do not worry, sister, the flames will not reach me in my lair. I am more worried about you.

  “You don’t understand. They’re burning the woods to flush out the wizard.” I wonder for a moment whether the revelation I was made by the wizard will make Batu hate me, too, but I cannot keep that from my dragon brother. “And me. They’re also after me. I am not what you think I am.”

  What are you?

  My fists clench at my sides. “The wizard . . . he’s the man I thought was my father. He lied to me. He destroyed my life.”

  The dragon rears his head back, eyes narrowing. My heart sinks into my feet, but he presses his snout against my middle and inhales.

  So that is why you smell of magic.

  I shake my head, ashamed. “I had no idea. He told me he was a scientist. And I did awful things because of it.” I was a fool to believe him, but what else was I to do? All I knew was from him. He ensured all my knowledge supported the lies he told.

  Wizards are the most deceitful of creatures. I am grieved to hear he pretended to be someone so close to you. I know how much you loved your false father.

  “I was so wrong, about so many things. Now he’s here in the forest, and I’m afraid he will find you.”

  Batu shrinks back and shimmers, like he does when he’s about to fade. My hand on his snout tingles.

  “Wait!” I say. “Come with me.”

  Where are you going? I dare not stray far. Travel would leave me exposed, and easier for the wizard to find.

  My heart sinks. “I don’t know where exactly. Just . . . not here. Somewhere far from Bryre and anyone who might have known the girl I was before. I do not wish to cause any more pain.”

  I have told you before, my nest is yours, if you wish it. The mountain will keep us safe.

  For a long moment, I consider Batu’s offer. He may not be my human family, but he is the closest thing I have, the sole creature left on this earth who can understand me.

  But if I stay, can I remain hidden? Can I hide so close to Bryre and resist the temptation to seek out Ren again? Or the city and its palace and fountains and roses? I’d be putting Batu at risk, and that I could not bear.

  “I wish I could,” I say, tears welling up in my eyes. “But I can’t stand to be this close to my city. It would call to me every day, but going back would be too dangerous, for me and for you. I can’t risk it. If the wizard found me here again, he could remove my memories, make me forget everything I’ve done, what I am, even you.” I sigh. “No, the only safe place for me is as far away as I can fly.”

  Batu nuzzles his snout in my shoulder. I am sorry to hear it. But I understand. If you ever return, come to the river, and I will find you again.

  I wait in the forest just outside the city until almost midnight, playing a dangerous game of hide-and-seek with Bryre’s men. But when the moon is finally high enough, I creep over the parapets.

  My feet know the way and I stand in a garden, just below Ren’s window, before I can reel in my fluttering thoughts. His scent led me here, but I’m surprised to find him at home in bed instead of hiding in a secret nook. Perhaps the best hiding places really are the ones in plain sight.

  Of course, it doesn’t hurt that the people who wished to punish him most are out in the forest hunting me.

  I pop open the window and slither inside. Moonlight paints his room in silver. I pull my book of fairy tales out of my satchel and lay it on the table next to his bed. It overflows with the dried roses he gave me when he believed I was someone else. I do not feel right keeping them any longer. Then I place my last rose on the pillow beside him and pause.

  This is the last time I’ll ever see Ren.

  Something wrenches inside me and I stare harder at his face, as if to imprint his image upon my eyes forever.

  This wonderful boy, with his curly brown hair and warm brown eyes, hates me. With very good reason.

  If only I’d realized sooner that I’m the monster.

  I must leave, but my body refuses to move. My need for him has become a physical one. Like breathing or flying.

  He hates me.

  Just the thought is crippling. I must keep reminding myself of it or I’ll never leave his room. I’ll never leave alive.

  He hates me. If he wakes, he or his family will kill me.

  Each word has a jagged edge.

  My feet budge at last. I take one final look and creep back outside.

  The forest still burns, though now the men take measures to put it out. When I alight on the road beyond, my vision is blurred and my throat sore from inhaling the smoke. I no longer care who sees me fly. Why bother? Ren knows. The citizens fear me and now that the forest burns, they’ve gone running back to Bryre. Scaring travelers and children is what Barnabas created me to do.

  What pains me most is that even though Barnabas is evil incarnate, I couldn’t kill him when I had the chance. I can’t kill a wizard, let alone the man who’s the only father I’ve ever known. Even though he made me to be a killer.

  I’m a foolish creature!

  I head for the green hills and wooded mountains beyond the cottage I once called home. I hear the sounds of travelers, wheels over gravel and whinnying horses, but I don’t care. My pack is secured between my wings, and my cloak res
ts beneath it. The full range of my monstrosity is in clear view for all to see, gawk at, and despise.

  A sharp pain ricochets through my skull—

  DAY FIFTY-NINE

  MY NOSE REGISTERS THE SMELL BEFORE I OPEN MY EYES. WHEN I DO, I skitter back and meet cold metal bars.

  Caged.

  “Well now,” a familiar voice says, “what have we here?” Darrell’s wicked laugh reverberates in my head.

  I’m in the same caged wagon that transported the girls.

  The animal in me rages. I growl, baring my teeth, and he jumps. The moon is far enough across the sky that it must be nearly dawn. How long was I unconscious?

  “None of that, girl. You can’t get through them bars. Not even your claws can cut through steel.” He leers and I hiss again. My tail whips between the bars, but he stumbles back before I hit him.

  “Don’t bother. You can’t hurt me.”

  I frown. What can he mean?

  “Do you really think Barnabas is stupid enough to create a beast like you and not take precautions?”

  “Precautions?” I whisper hoarsely.

  “He made a serum that nullifies your poison. You won’t do any more damage than a pinprick.”

  Shock holds me in an iron grip. I have no defenses against this man. I’m helpless. Barnabas knew this day would come.

  I was so stupid, asking him when I could go to the happy place we supposedly sent the girls. When he told me in good time, he meant it. I scream and pound my fists on the floor of the cage, needing some outlet for my fury.

  “Ah, yes. You will fetch a fine price, missy.” Darrell winks at me through the bars. I stumble back as understanding overwhelms me. They sold the girls I stole, and now he will sell me, too.

  “How long have you known what I am?”

  “Long enough to realize how much you would be worth. It is so rare to capture a beast such as yourself alive.” He grins, revealing yellowed teeth. “Barnabas is a tricky one, but once I remembered what you are, I renegotiated my reward for ferrying the girls. He knew he’d have to dispose of you eventually, and we worked out a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

  As Darrell covers my cage with a thick tarp and mounts the front of the wagon, I shiver in spite of the warmth in the air.

  I will suffer the same fate as my own victims.

  From the six-inch-wide hole I made in the tarp, I’ve seen more of the country in which I live in one day of travel than in all the rest of my short life. So much green. Trees of all shapes and sizes, some with sharp pointy leaves and others with long dangling branches I wish I could reach out and touch.

  But I cannot.

  I can’t even broach the locks on the outside of my cage. Darrell, that tricky beast of a man, placed several of them on the bars, but none will open to the needling of my claws. Barnabas must’ve spelled them when Darrell was transporting the girls. The key is the only thing that will open them.

  Darrell drives the cart up steep ravines that I can’t believe we manage to pass, and past waterfalls with high cascades. In the distance lies another range of mountains covered with scrubby purple brush. They’re aflame with colors in the dying light. I’ll never get to touch any of these. Smell them up close. Befriend the animals scurrying in the undergrowth.

  I’ll be sold.

  I’ve become that princess from the tower who escaped and found the world to be a far more dangerous place than she had ever dreamed.

  Darrell hummed to himself all day. Every once in a while he glances at me, winks, then cackles to himself. Each time he does this my claws slip out, useless.

  As the day wanes, I lie on the floor of my prison. The food Darrell shoved through the bars at midday remains uneaten, spilled on the floor at my feet. The feral hunger I used to feel before every meal has ceased in the face of my grief. I only want to watch the sun slip over the mountains, disappearing an inch at a time in a blaze of color and light.

  This is the time of day when I would sneak into the city, filled with purpose—to save another girl, to see Ren. I wish what Father—no, Barnabas—told me was true. That I really was a hero, not the beast terrorizing the city. The stars twinkle down above the tarp covering my prison, silent witnesses to every awful thing I’ve done.

  When the cart finally stops, Darrell bangs a spoon on the bars.

  “Get up. Eat, you stupid girl. I can’t deliver you half mad from starvation.” He shoves another moldy lump of bread through the bars.

  I hiss at him. Right now, the only thing I hunger for is his blood.

  I curl on my side. The mountains are clearer that way. Darrell shuffles items on and off the top of the cart as he makes camp for the night. I have found no nook or cranny I can use to escape from this cage.

  I’ve made up my mind. The second Darrell opens the door to deliver me to the slavers or whoever it may turn out to be, I’ll tear him to pieces. I’ve never killed a human before. But I’m confident my feral instincts will guide me well.

  Those parts that separate me from the other girls of Bryre will be what saves me.

  DAY SIXTY-ONE

  I AM NOT CERTAIN HOW MUCH TIME PASSES. AT LEAST TWO SUNSETS, I believe. I spend my time focusing on the one thing I still want: my memories. I replay the visions I’ve seen in my head, clinging to the faint feeling that I was once loved. That, once, I belonged somewhere.

  I was the crown princess. Oliver’s daughter, Delia’s sister, and Ren’s friend. I knew them, loved them, but they would never want to know me as I am now.

  Once, I had everything I’ve longed for. Barnabas stole it from me.

  But something in what Darrell said gives me hope—Barnabas removed his memory of me, but eventually it came back. Whatever the spell is, it holds only for so long. Bit by precious bit, more memories rise to the surface now that I’m away from Barnabas and his memory-erasing touch. Now I have all the time in the world to focus solely on retrieving them. My mother reading me a story. I still cannot see her face, but I hear her voice, the warmth in it. This vision comes with a sense of comfort, love, and quiet joy I’ve never known since.

  In another I tend a small garden surrounded by high hedges, unlike the others I’ve seen at the palace. It’s a mishmash of plants—roses, of course, alongside sunflowers, begonias, and lilies. There are several others I cannot name, but I delight in the look of them. I water each one from an old tin watering can, and pull up the weeds with care. Rosabel loved this garden. I wonder what happened to it?

  I cling to each memory, growing fonder of them by the hour, wrapping them around me like a warm blanket. The whispers of the past sing me to sleep.

  In the predawn hours, the quiet patter of feet tiptoeing up a rocky path rouses me. Someone approaches our camp. I peek out the hole in the tarp, hoping the person or creature comes into view. For a fleeting moment I consider screaming for help, but I brush that aside.

  Anyone who saw me would think Darrell was well within his rights to take me as far from their country as possible. They’d probably applaud him. They might even help.

  In the half-light, a shadow creeps past the dull embers of the campfire toward Darrell. My lungs tighten. What if it’s a robber and they kill him and steal me? I might be able to defend myself against that sort of men. They wouldn’t have the antidote to my poison barb.

  The figure leans over Darrell, but I can’t see what it does to his sleeping body.

  Thwack.

  Darrell cries out for a brief second; then all is silent. It is a robber, I’m sure of it.

  The person drags Darrell’s body toward my cage, probably intending to stuff him inside. I crawl back under my blanket, feigning sleep, though my claws slide into place and my legs prepare to pounce. Every nerve is a live wire. This is my chance to escape. The sound of keys jingling reaches my ears, and then the interloper tugs off the tarp covering my cage. I risk a peek with one eye.

  The hood of his cloak has slipped.

  Ren.

  The emotions swirling inside form a v
ise around my chest. I can’t breathe. I can hardly think.

  He turns the key in the lock and yanks the door open.

  “Hello?” he says, putting a hand on my shoulder and shaking me gently.

  Just like he would any other captive girl.

  The fight slips out of my body. The cage door is open and I’ve deceived Ren long enough. I sit up slowly, pulling my cloak around my shoulders and letting the blanket that hid me fall to the floor.

  Ren recoils.

  I hate the expression on his face. Terror. Disgust. He can’t stand to look at my monstrous body, half creature, half girl. He must be revolted by how many nights he spent holding my hand. A tear trails down my cheek. I miss him so much; it’s clear I’m the last person he hoped to find in this cage.

  We remain still for a moment, eyes locked and wary. Ren doesn’t budge. I dash out of the cage, breaking the standoff first. I can’t bear to see the hate in his eyes anymore, and it’s such a relief to stretch my wings again.

  “I’m sorry, Ren.” I have to say it. Even though it’s futile. Even though it will mean nothing to him, it means everything to me.

  He grunts and stomps out of the cage behind me. “Don’t bother. I don’t want to hear it. If I’d known it was you in there, I’d never have let you out. Don’t you dare try anything. If your tail moves an inch in my direction, I’ll cut it off.” He points to the scabbard at his belt. He must’ve taken a sword from the palace. I’ve never seen him armed like that before.

  “I would never—” I start to say but think better of it. Because in truth, I did.

  He doesn’t take his eyes off me as he drags Darrell closer to the cage.

  He’s afraid. I stare up at the night sky for a few seconds to keep tears from falling. I don’t want Ren to see me cry.

  He struggles with Darrell’s limp form as he attempts to put him in the cage. When I move to grab the man’s legs, Ren flinches. I hold my hands up. “I just want to help.”

  He shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

  I lift Darrell’s feet and we throw him inside, locking the bars behind him. Satisfaction warms me, but doesn’t dull the sharp desire for revenge. Darrell was an all too willing participant in the girls’ forced slavery; he deserves this more than I do.