Turin, radji Cradle Ecologist.
Date [standardised human time]: November 20th, 2119
(16 years, 9 months, 14 days before the invasion of the radji Cradle).
“Hhssssst!” the vexise spat, swatting at her paws. The spotted little feline penned her young deeper into the enclosure’s corner. For the last few days, the mother had been swiping at and pushing away her cubs, wearying of their presence. Yet whenever Turin went to separate them, she turned fierce, protecting them like newborns.
“C’mon, don’t be a pain!” Turin hissed back. “One minute you want them gone, the next you can’t bear to be without them! Make up your damn mind!”
“Hhssst!”
She threw up her paws and turned away. I’ll be furious if she turns on them again, she thought, stomping back to the storage shed and throwing the feed bucket down in the corner. Turin picked up her mug from the shelf where she had left it, grateful for the warmth it provided as she strolled back down the line of pens. She was glad to see the monitors were still faring well despite the mid-day chill. Their relatives in the foothills seemed stable, but the ecologists worried that a particularly harsh cold snap would be enough to undo all their hard work. She walked around the side of the house, up the embankment the structure made with the earth to rest on the grass. A wilted nest sat on the chimney, abandoned for the approaching winter. Ki-yu had been so small… so helpless. Surely it was not that long ago that Ki-yu had pounced on that fiirit, halting their day in the sun?
This position faced east; she had found that most mornings, with the aid of binoculars, a small black speck could be seen watching the dawn. She was not there now; the girl had come and collected her brother a short while ago, the two tottering off into the woods together. She knows he’ll be going back to school soon. Is it strange to be relieved that she’ll miss him?
The door swung open beneath her, Braq sauntering out. Turin quietly watched her beloved peer about, a devious delight in his befuddlement.
“Turin?” he called down the pens, scratching his head.
“Up here,” she replied, the man looking up at her with a smile.
“Sheesh, Ki-yu teaching you to sneak up on people?” She chuckled down at him as he padded up to join her.
“No, just… taking a break,” she replied. Her man rubbed his paws together for warmth, stepping through his misting breath as he made his way up the incline.
“Seen the kids?” he asked, brushing away the dew to sit beside her. She gestured pointedly at the treeline with her mug, making her beloved harrumph humorously. “Should have guessed. How’d she look?”
“Alright. It was nice to see her away from the computer.” Braq nodded slowly, picking up a sodden stick and testing its strength with his paws.
“Still no word?” he asked. Turin shook her head, covering her expression with a swig of tea.
“She’s eaten again, which was my first worry.”
“Good. That’s good…” he trailed off, fidgeting with the piece of wood. Turin rested her head on his boulder of a shoulder.
“What’s on your mind, Braq?” she asked him. He grunted good-naturedly. The weight of his head soon pressed against her crown.
“Oh, do I just get to pick one?”
“If you think you can handle that many.” Braq snorted at her joke, poking her leg with the stick.
“Ow!” she protested, only partly in jest.
“Heh. I guess… she’s not growing that quickly, you know?” he observed. “I mean, not that we want her to outweigh me just yet, but…” He gently rubbed a paw across where he had poked her. “That’s a worry for later I suppose.”
“She’s fit enough…” she replied. “There’s plenty we don’t know about pyq biology, but there’s also plenty of time to learn, right?” Braq shifted uneasily, looking east.
“What if… you’re right?” he muttered. “What if we shouldn’t have told Rylett? Shouldn’t have let her go?”
“Ki-yu didn’t really leave us much choice.” Turin said, letting the second question hang. It had been a risky gamble, to trust the Priestess, one Turin had hoped to be without.
“Did she… or did we?” he said softly. Turin pulled back a little, looking at him quizzically. Braq snapped the twig in his paws, throwing it away. “It’s just… your face… when Ki-yu came walking up the hall… and the way you blocked the door. Not just shut it, blocked it. I’ve never seen you look like that…”
“I… couldn’t let her get out. The last thing we’d want was to chase after her.” Braq’s mouth twisted slightly, the man turning to the woods. Why did I block the door? Would I have… kept her here myself? I wouldn’t have… hurt her, would I? “You blame me,” he said, misreading her doubt.
“No…” she almost squeaked. “I… just think it’d be safer if no one knew about her.” Her beloved said nothing. Turin looked to the forest’s edge, longing to see her children playing between the trees. The wind toyed at the russet-coloured grass, thin fingers waving at the sky. The treeline was empty, the ranks of sentinels unmoved. “I’m sorry,” her husband whispered. “I pushed for her tutorage…” He sniffed and looked away from both forest and family. Turin set down her mug on the mossy tiles of their home, turning to him as she took his paw in hers. His palms were always rough, blackened by dirt and age.
“Lover… it was the right thing to do.” She rubbed her thumbs into his paw for good measure. It was strange, in a way she knew this hand better than her own. Turin looked up at Braq’s soft eyes. “And no, I don’t blame you.” He looked into her deeply, and her into him; no smiles or jokes were needed.
“She’s lonely Turin,” he rumbled. “Remember Yotun? Even Rylett saw that in a chat log. It breaks my heart…” Turin lay across him, pressing her face into his broad chest, as though the contact could suck out all his dark thoughts, all his worry. She would carry them herself if it would stop the hurting. His arms came around her, holding her tight as the shadows of the mountains retreated like the tide across the valley.
“We… never go out like we used to,” she mumbled into him. “Like a family…” Braq nuzzled her forehead.
“Let’s go change that, hm?” he whispered. Turin smiled, grateful for this simple man. He brushed the dirt and grass from them as they stood. “She can’t live like this forever, beloved,” he murmured. “Someday, she’ll need to be someone.”
“I hope it really does work out like that, beloved. But we can only wait and see.” He smiled, but she could see the lines of worry starting to set beside his eyes. She took his paw and leaned close to whisper something to make it all alright, but her beloved did a double take to the north. Following his gaze, she saw the distinctive plume of dust from an approaching vehicle.
“Perhaps we’ll find out sooner than expected,” she muttered as they hastily descended the slope.
The backdoor was almost thrown off its hinges as Braq stormed through, the proximity alarm ringing. At once he moved to the camera monitors, shutting off the noise and flicking through the feeds to get a lock on the vehicle.
“Rylett?” Turin asked, dropping a radio unit next to him as she checked over the house.
“No… I don’t think so… It’s a ground car, we’ve got a few minutes before it arrives.” Braq started buzzing the radio, a silent alarm to warn Ki-yu away. She’ll just have to keep an eye on Imdi for a while. The living room seemed unassuming enough, and a quick glance down the hall told her that Ki-yu’s bedroom was sealed. Turin returned to the living room, throwing the remainder of her tea down the sink, and placing the mug on the windowsill. The failsafe gave her a small modicum of comfort, but her claws rattled against the porcelain nonetheless.
“I’ll turn this off before they get here,” Braq said as she returned. “Don’t want to show off our security.”
“Makes sense,” Turin mumbled, peering around his shoulder. “Has she responded?” He shook his head. She squeezed his arm for a moment, before heading for the door.
Turin stepped out of the lodge, looking out at the plume of dust being kicked up in the distance. She made a show of bending down in the vegetable patch, waiting for the visitor.
Some of the tubers would need uprooting soon anyway, so she thought she would make the façade reasonably convincing. She was working her way down a satisfyingly long stem when the vehicle rose into clear view. Wiping her paws and brow, she sat back on the garden bed and watched as the ground car came to a stop.
The man that stepped from the vehicle was tall and slender, and he locked his pale eyes onto her instantly. Something squirmed deep in Turin’s stomach, but she forced a wave as she sauntered over to him.
“Doctor Turin,” Juran smiled in greeting. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Not at all,” she replied, trying to seem warmer than she felt. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“Business, unfortunately,” he said, dipping his head. It was an apologetic movement, but with his unnatural height he seemed to loom over her. Turin gestured to the lodge, the man keeping his long legs at pace with her stride.
“I hear you have a son now,” he said casually. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you. He was something of a surprise.”
“Where is the lad?”
“Oh… out in the woods I suspect.”
“Hm. Is that wise? Letting one so young wander?”
“I suppose you’re not a father then; you’d know how hard it is to keep a child indoors if you were.” The man smiled thinly at her.
“Astute,” was all he said.
“You’re still working for the extermination office?” Turin asked as they passed inside. Braq was no longer in the living room, perhaps double checking the lower house.
“Indeed,” Juran said. “The work continues.” His pale eyes scoured the room in moments, Turin watching him as he went. Mantlepiece, kitchen, windowsill. Monitors, couch, table and chairs. His gaze lingered on the backdoor, where was kept their packs and the gun case.
“I can empathise,” Braq called out, his footfalls unusually gentle as he came up the hallway. Juran turned to meet him, the two men regarding one another. “Our work goes on too.”
“With some success, it seems,” the man said insipidly, gesturing without looking toward the backdoor, and the pens beyond. “I take it the vexise are breeding now as well?” he said, turning back to Turin. Pale rapids…
“Somewhat, yes.” She placed her paws behind her, standing as firmly as she could. “We monitor them closely. Is that why you’re here? Has someone reported us?” The man spun away, strolling about to examine the kitchen.
“No one has reported you as yet,” he drawled, as though the question bored him. “At least, nothing actionable.” He gestured dismissively as the couple exchanged a glance, playing with the tap like a child. “Concerned locals occasionally contact us when they first learn of your operation.”
“People are worried?” Braq said cautiously. The man nodded slowly, turning to them once more.
“I hear that one farm to the south has even been building a perimeter wall. Rest assured; we remind them that you’re well within your rights here.” His paw walked its way along the countertop, running along its edge as he moved back toward them. “No… I’m here due to something far more, ah, alarming.” Juran turned to the shelf, inspecting their contents.
“Well?” Turin asked, tiring of this game.
“There’s been a report of a predator near the Brackwood,” he told the books, running a claw along their spines. “No one was hurt, mind you. But it appears to have unnerved the related parties.” His paw found a gap, and he stopped there at once. The claw rapped thrice against the wood. The gun is in the case by the backdoor.
“What kind of predator?” Braq asked. Juran turned away from the shelf, his eyes slipping to Turin.
“Unclear,” he said, breathing sharply through his teeth. “Certainly far larger than any of what we know you to breed.” Why hasn’t Rylett come back yet? “I came to ask if you’ve seen anything unusual.” His eyes were spotlights, bright and piercing. “These are your woods; you know them better than I. Have you seen anything usual lately? Any sign of feral predators?” Turin fought to control her demeanour. This man can smell fear as well as Ki-yu, brook him no weakness.
“Nothing outside the ordinary,” she said as casually as she could.
“Really? Hm.” He locked his arms behind his back, tilting his head for a long moment. “Even with this fancy new security? Nothing in the footage?”
“Nothing we’ve seen,” Braq said gruffly.
“You don’t need to check?”
“We monitor it closely,” Turin said simply.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t want us to review it?”
“The cameras are mostly motion activated,” Braq said. It was, technically, true. Most of the cameras were rigged as game-traps but could be accessed as a live feed. They reviewed it all regularly, anyway, so were certain not to have captured a rogue roht. Ki-yu’s movements were harder to pin down than they used to be, however, and whilst she also did a good job of deleting entries that had caught her, there was always an element of risk. “We could send you several hundred hours of leaves falling, a few hundred of various animals in flight, a few dozen of anything remotely interesting.”
“Would you like us to send you that footage?” Turin asked sweetly. The tall man’s eyes narrowed for a long moment.
“You know what you’re doing,” he said, his words poised like blades. It could be an accusation or an appeasement. “You’d have called already, surely.”
“What’re you suggesting?” Braq breathed; he was practically humming with wrath.
“I suggest nothing,” the cold man said. “I state only what I know or remain silent. What are you suggesting?” Turin’s eyes slid toward the gun case. “Is there someone behind me Turin? That’s the second time you’ve looked that way.” Her breath hitched in her throat, halting any response. She tried to find her boat…
The silent stand-off was broken by a knock at the door.
“That must be your son,” Juran said. “Best go let him in.” Neither parent moved. The pale eyes flicked to her again, and for the first time she saw confusion there; a wobble of uncertainty. “Well?” As if in a dream, Turin traipsed over to the door. She stole one last glance at the men, Braq’s sinuous arms held so taut behind his back she feared they would snap. Her claws rattled against the handle as she pulled it slowly open and peered out.
On the doorstep primly stood Rylett, her paws resting on Imdi’s shoulders before her. There was a bag hung over her shoulder, and a knowing look in her eye.
“All done!” she said, her auburn fur much less askew than when they had seen her last.
“Priestess…?” Turin breathed.
“You were quite right, the woods are nice and brisk this time of year,” she said cheerfully, pushing past her with Imdi in tow. “I fear what it’d be like in a few months.” She smiled heartily as she spotted Juran, the tall man still save the rapid movements of his pupils. “Ah, we have a guest, who might you be?” There was a half-second of silence before Turin stepped forward.
“This is Juran, he’s chief exterminator for the Bendara district,” she said stiffly.
“Oh Juran, of course!”
“I don’t believe we’ve met, Ms…?” the officer said leadingly, stepping away from Braq and toward the newcomers.
“Rylett. And it’s Priestess, actually.”
“Ah… a teacher.” His pale eyes on her son made Turin want to throw herself at him.
“A tutor in this case,” Rylett said carefully, patting the boy’s shoulder. “Imdi is a lovely lad, he just needs some confidence.”
“Hello there,” Juran said, looking down at Imdi.
“Hi,” the boy squeaked, chewing at his claws.
“Imdi was just showing me around the woods, weren’t you?” Imdi nodded slowly.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Oh?” Juran crouched down in front of them, looking deep into Imdi’s little face. “Do you go into the woods often?”
“A-huh.”
“Have you ever seen anything… unusual?” There was a stifling silence. Braq took a silent step toward him.
“Like you?” Imdi asked, the tiniest bit of gruff in his squeaky voice. Juran smiled thinly, where he squatted.
“Very good,” he chuckled. I’ve had enough of this! Turin decided.
“Shall we go play for a bit, darling?” Turin asked Imdi. The boy nodded hastily, fear spinning quickly in his tiny eyes. It’ll be alright, she said with her own. She picked him up, his warmth against her breast a part of her. “Duty calls,” she said, trying not to flee the room.
“Turin.” Juran’s voice seemed to shave the fur off of her. “You didn’t answer my question. Have you seen any feral predators in the Brackwood?”
Turin turned to him, her paws running over her son for her own support as much for his.
“Like you said. If we had, you’d be the first to know,” she said. Juran’s tempest wailed for a moment but vanished behind a blink and a smile.
“Of course.”
“Goodbye Juran,” she said, and without another word strode down the hall. She just managed to slide Imdi’s bedroom door shut before her breathing became ragged, Turin falling into the chair heavily.
“Mama?” Imdi murmured against her. “Are you alright?”
“Shh…” she hushed, rocking herself in the seat. “We’re alright.” Checking the door was indeed shut, she whispered in his ear, “What happened?”
“W-we were on our way back when we spotted the car,” he whispered back. “So, we hid… but then Rylett showed up, and Ku was worried so…”
“You went to speak to her…” He nodded at her. “Did she say what she wants?”
“No…” he whispered. Courage, Turin, she murmured from the deck of her boat. Courage.
Turin heard the front door groan shut, and a few moments later the engine roar. Taking Imdi by the paw, she walked them back into the living room. Braq stood at the window, watching the car depart. After a few moments, he sighed, and nodded to Turin.
Rylett made to speak, but Braq raised a paw to silence her. The Priestess watched curiously as they passed their paws over the bookshelf, checked where Juran had moved through the kitchen, and passed the table. Braq even tipped over the chairs and couch, just to be thorough.
“All clear,” Braq breathed into the radio, a moment later there was a buzz of acknowledgement. Turin moved to the monitors, setting a diagnostic on the computer’s firewalls.
“What was that about?” Rylett asked as Braq reset the furniture.
“Just being thorough. I wouldn’t put a bug past that guy.”
“Isn’t that a little paranoid?”
“Yup!” he said cheerfully. The backdoor creaked open, then shut as Ki-yu slunk in. The girl moved cautiously; each footfall careful with claws drawn back. Turin looked up from the monitors to watch the interaction. The other woman was noticeably more nervous, moving to place the couch between herself and the pyq. She forced a tight smile.
“Hello Ki-yu.”
“Hi Rylett,” the girl chirped, sitting beside Imdi a respectable distance away.
“You came back,” Braq observed, sitting against the table with his arms crossed.
“Perhaps against my better judgement. D-did you doubt I would?”
“I had faith.”
“Faith… ah.” The Priestess breathed out a laugh and reached into her bag. She pulled out Ki-yu’s notebook, running her paws across its surface. “Most of my clergy would call this a sin, you know?” She opened it carefully, flicking through the pages. “Even… entertaining the notion… The scriptures are quite clear; my faith demands I expose you. You’re a predator. A pyq, that in time will grow.” Rylett seemed unaware of the tension in the room, of how Turin half-shuffled toward the backdoor. “But on the other paw, I’m a Champion. I have a duty to protect children, no?” She gestured with the book at the dark creature curled up nearby, staring at her something awful. “You… you’re everything I fear. And everything I love.” She screwed up her face. “I look at you… and I don’t know what to make of you.” Ki-yu was drawn down into herself, her brow pinching together as she listened. “But…” the Priestess said carefully, smiling down as she closed the notebook. “… you do draw some very pretty pictures.” Turin glanced at Braq, her beloved’s eyes working frantically in a still face. Rylett clicked her tongue, and carefully approached Ki-yu, only faltering a step when the girl rose up. Swiftly, she held out the notebook. “Full marks.”
Ki-yu blinked at her, then down at the book. She sniffed back tears, gingerly taking her notebook like a treasure.
“Full marks…” she whispered, holding it to her chest. “Th-thank you.” Something crippled, sodden by the rain began to stir in Turin’s soul. It fluttered for a moment, tapping a rhythm against the hull of her boat. It was quiet—so painfully quiet—but it was there.
“If what you wrote there was true…” Rylett said, taking a slight step back. “I misjudged you. All of you.”
“You won’t expose us?” Turin asked, a tremor in her voice.
“Unless she starts hurting people, I see no reason to.”
“Doesn’t that… implicate you?” Braq asked. “You’re risking a lot.” The Champion smiled wanly, looking to the floor.
“I’ll let the Goddess make her own judgements.” Silently, Turin reached a paw out to her side; her beloved took it without her even hearing him move. A weight was lifted from Turin, as she breathed into his chest. We’re safe… we’re safe…
“Thank you, Rylett,” Braq said shakily against her. The woman nodded slowly.
“If that’s everything, I suspect I shall see you again. Perhaps some in-person lessons would be beneficial, hm?” Ki-yu was bobbing up and down emphatically.
“Yes!” she barked eagerly, all but leaping forward. The motion made Rylett cringe. “Th-that is…” the girl said meekly, “if you are up to it?” Rylett took a breath to steady herself, then smiled wryly, looking gaudily about the lodge.
“Your house is… much nicer when I’m not being trapped in it.” Ki-yu chirruped, looking awkwardly at her parents. “But I won’t take up any more of your time.”
Rylett bowed, and with one last long look at Ki-yu, made for the door.
“Priestess!” Turin called out before she reached it. The woman looked back cautiously. “We would be honoured if you joined us for dinner.”
“I… wouldn’t want to impose…”
“I insist,” she said firmly, making the Priestess’s eyes widen. “I mean…” Turin fell back a pace, remembering how harsh she had been. “It would be a great privilege.”
~*~
Turin set the casserole down on the counter, the golden-brown surface steaming. Taking up a spoon, Braq stole a morsel, making a disgusted face. Turin swatted him on the arm, taking the pot from him as she tried to ignore his snigger.
“Smells good!” Ki-yu chittered as she leapt up onto the counter, sniffing heartily at the meal. Turin had to push her face out of the bowl, a small splotch of stew sticking to her snout. A quick glance told her that Rylett had not seen, the Priestess playing with Imdi on the couch. Ki-yu licked it from her nose then made a retching noise, her face curling with revulsion.
“See?” Braq said.
“Oh, behave the pair of you!” Father and daughter wore the same sly toothy grin. “Go set the table,” Turin said, her partner throwing his paws up like it was a calamity. “And you must be hungry. Have you eaten today?” Ki-yu pouted.
“I told you; I ate yesterday.”
“I wasn’t asking about yesterday, I asked about today.” Ki-yu made a harrumphing sound, kneading at the countertop pleadingly.
“Go on,” Braq said, gesturing to the door. “Something to keep your strength up. Please?”
“Fine…” she whined, lethargically dropping to the floor. The setting sun cast a deep orange light into the home as she opened the door, offset by the chill of the air. I hope she’s keeping warm enough, Turin thought absently.
“I’ll have to make her a new coat or something,” Braq said, clearly thinking the same thing. “Her old one’s too small and torn to shreds.” The chair slid gratingly as Imdi struggled up into his seat, their guest taking her own with far more dignity.
“So…” the Priestess said awkwardly. “This is what normally happens? Sending her… off into the woods whilst you all eat here?” She’s doing a remarkable job hiding her disdain.
“For a while we made do with kibble,” Turin called through, “and she would eat at the table with us. But when that stopped sustaining her, we had to make her hunt.”
“Make her hunt? She didn’t want to kill?”
“She said as much, didn’t she?” The words rolled out of Braq as gentle as thunder.
“I suppose…” the woman murmured. Braq smiled at her, moving to the cabinets.
“I guess I’d be as doubtful in your place,” he said, collecting the plates and returning to her. “Well… it’s complicated. We used to watch her trap animals or follow them around. You could see in her eyes she wanted them to run, so that she might chase them. But when she caught them, she didn’t know what to do with them! Or, well… rather she knew what to do with them, she just always let them go.”
“Well… how do you know she’s actually… eating… what you want her to?”
“If we’re with her, she very rarely stalks anything,” Braq said, setting down the plates. “But, once or twice I’ve followed her, or watched her on the cameras. I can’t help but feel… strangely proud of how efficient she is.” Rylett blinked at him queerly, wrinkling her snout. “I-I mean… it’s not exactly pleasant to watch!” Braq stuttered. “But she’s quick about it. It hurts her to see them suffer. Honestly, we have no problem with watching her eat, it’s her that’s shy about it.” The Priestess furrowed her reddish brow but said no more.
Turin set the casserole down on the table, dishing out some roasted tubers from the garden as well. She carved them each out a portion. The layers of vegetables—roasted and seasoned with thick, heady spices—were interspersed with the occasional berry or raisin, each a little nugget of sweetness. The sauce had taken the most effort; mushrooms sautéed in a nut-based puree over several hours, producing a thin but flavoursome dressing.
Imdi began wolfing it down as soon as it was in front of him. Turin shot Braq a look of victory as they sat, reminding her son they had a guest. Whilst bemused by the interaction, Rylett had quieted. She was taking her time with her meal, occasionally eyeing the backdoor.
“Is something bothering you, Rylett?” Turin asked. The woman shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Please, speak your mind. You’ve cast your lot amongst the sinners now.” The Priestess shot her a coy look, chuckling slightly.
“It’s just… you’re okay with that? With her killing?” Turin cracked a root in her paws, satisfied that the orange flesh within was cooked. It had a rich, earthy aroma.
“Predators would always be hunting here, that was the whole point of this endeavour.”
“Although it took some argument…” Braq murmured.
“Those stiplets breed like iridians, something needs to put them in check,” Turin said, making a satisfied noise as she tried the sum of her work. “Besides, the alternative was letting her starve.”
“Yes…” Rylett said. “I guess there really isn’t much choice is there.” She eyed Imdi as he gobbled down his portion. “But… what about him?” She gestured with her spoon as the boy looked at her. “Do you worry about… what it might be doing to him?”
“With the way he eats, you mean?”
“Ha! No,” she said with a smile, an expression that took years from her face. “I mean… Imdi.” She directed her attention to him, the caramel-furred boy caught with his mouth full. “Are you scared of the predators here?”
“Uh… no.”
“See? That’s odd in and of itself.”
“You saw him on his first day of school,” Braq said, a little defensively. “He was terrified.”
“I don’t doubt that, but he should be terrified of the predators.”
“He just knows them for what they are,” Braq rumbled. Turin set down her fork.
“I grew up in a pastoral region,” she said, thinking back to her youth in sun-orange crops. “My parents grew dominar mostly, so of course the crynnids were a major problem.” Both Rylett and Braq made an involuntary shudder. “Exactly!” Turin laughed. “Everyone has that reaction! They see the bulbous spikey body, those stick-thin legs, with those wide-eyes and want to introduce them to their foot.” A sizeable portion of the pesticide business on the Cradle was made for fighting the insectoids. But whatever new poison was effective one year, then mediocre at the next, and futile by the fifth. “But I’d spend so much time in those fields that I’d see them all the time, and eventually I stopped hating them. They were just… there. They couldn’t help what they were, that the perfect food for them was also ours.”
Rylett hummed thoughtfully and made to speak, but instead trailed off as Ki-yu padded in through the backdoor. The guilty look in her eyes told Turin all she needed to know. The girl shied away from Rylett’s gaze, shrinking toward the kitchen. Ki-yu made a hacking, whining noise, fidgeting at her face. Something in her teeth again, Turin surmised.
“Come here, let me see,” she called to her. The pyq approached timidly, as though ready to flee. Turin held out her paw patiently, waiting for her assent. After a final sideways glance, she placed her long snout in Turin’s paws. The girl carefully opened her mouth to its full gape, showing her narrow, serrated teeth, her pale-pink gums, and long slick tongue. A large piece of gunk had jammed itself behind a tooth, Turin carefully using a claw to free it, wiping it on a napkin. Some red blood was left in its wake.
“Better?” she asked. Ki-yu nodded, rubbing her fingers against her cheek. Meekly she picked up the napkin, picking at it with a finger. No doubt a piece of bone or claw, Turin thought. “In the bin,” she said, rubbing the girl’s arm. “Then go wash your mouth out, okay?”
“Okay,” she nodded, Turin wiping her paws as she turned back to the table. Rylett looked ready to faint again.
“Ah. Sorry,” Turin apologised.
“Y-you’re either the bravest or dumbest radji I’ve ever met,” she said.
“Amen,” Braq muttered into his meal, assuming he was safely outside of swatting range. Rylett laughed as Turin threw herself over the table at him.
~*~
Through the chill night air Turin could hear Ki-yu arguing loudly with her brother, the topic being the game of choice for tonight. The gravel crunched beneath her feet as she set down the path along the pens, a fresh cup of tea in each paw. She found Rylett where she thought she would, looking down on the vexise.
“Cold out,” Turin said, offering her a mug. “Hope you like tea.” The woman smiled, accepting the drink graciously.
“Yes, thank you.” she said, shuddering beneath her fur. They both drank, the night quiet save the odd hoot between the trees, or the rustle of a monitor in the pens. Both tried to speak at once.
“Sorry if it’s all a bit too much–”
“You’ve been very–”
They stammered out chuckled apologies, an awkward stillness in the cold air.
“They’re surprisingly… docile,” Rylett opined, nodding down at the sleeping predators.
“For now,” Turin tittered. “We’ll need to start insulating them all soon.”
“All of them?”
“All except those already out there,” she gestured to the Brackwood lurking in the night. “They’ll have to manage on their own.” Rylett shook her sharp ruddy head.
“I never thought this would all be so much work. You really must care about this place.” Turin took in a fresh, chilling breath, standing against the pens.
“Somebody has to.” The Priestess pursed her lips, before also leaning against the metal.
“Can I ask you something?” she said.
“Of course.”
“What, in Kay-ut, made you keep that girl?!” There was mirth in her laugh, but still a sense of disbelief. Turin laughed as well, sighing into her mug.
“Not my brightest moment…” she said wryly. “But I don’t think I’ll ever regret it.” Rylett just sipped at her tea patiently.
“We considered… getting rid of her,” Turin admitted. Rylett brow pinched in something delightfully disapproving. “Understand that we were as scared as you were at first. But then… she started crying.”
“I… don’t know if I’d recognise a pyq crying… at least before…” The priestess looked mournful, shuffling her feet. “I’m really sorry about the egg. If I’d known…” A precious memory… Oh the mess we made… She put the slight aside.
“It’s strange, isn’t it? It doesn’t sound like tears but… you feel it in here.” Turin brushed a paw on her breast. “That croaking, sobbing sound. When we opened the sack again, the sobbing stopped, and she just… looked at me. What I couldn’t have known then was that… feeling, that… sense that this little thing I was holding was not only beautiful, but innocent… and…” Turin trailed off, unable to find the right words. Rylett looked somewhere between epiphany and despair.
“…like you could fight the whole world for this child, and win,” she hushed, the lit crescent of her face distant.
“…and I felt it again, when Imdi was born…” Turin whispered. Rylett turned her face to shadow, and a sickness twisted at Turin’s insides. I don’t think I’d have survived what she went through, she admitted to herself. Turin put a paw on the Priestess’s shoulder.
“Listen, Rylett… I value your generosity, especially after what we put you through… but I understand if this is all too overwhelming.” The Priestess shook her head.
“I meant what I said, I’ll keep your secret.”
“But… your family…” Something flickered in the other woman’s eyes, fierce and wounded.
“I have a duty,” she said swiftly. Their breaths mingled in the warm glow from the kitchen window. Rylett softened again, wrapping her paw around her mug, and turning to look back into the pens. “But I appreciate the sentiment. I won’t lie to you, she scares me. And there are times when I’m back on that damn transport…” She took a gulp of tea, changing the conversation. “Say… why’d you have an exterminator here? Was he bothering you about your predators?” Turin huffed, the breath curling up into the air.
“He knows we’re in the right with these,” she said thinly, gesturing at the sleeping hunters.
“But… there’s something else?” The ecologist nodded grimly.
“There are other predators on the estate. Roht,” Turin told her, watching the way the priestess nestled the cup in her paws. “It’s not our doing,” she added. “And they aren’t here naturally, it’s the wrong climate for them.”
“But… shouldn’t you report that? Isn’t that a serious danger?” The gun is in her grip…
“We’ve had some nasty encounters already. We found one dead and thought to have killed another. But…”
“Hang on… if you didn’t bring them here, then who did?” Turin took a hefty swig of tea, letting the silence talk as she tossed her head to the endarkened horizon.
“Juran?!” the priestess boomed.
“Perhaps. Ki-yu overheard a conversation between Juran and Teraka, years ago. They’d marched onto our land, looking for something. She said Juran described some kind of trap.”
“Maybe they’re trying to capture those monsters?” Rylett offered, although there was a hint of doubt in her voice.
“We’ve never found any sign of that. They’ve shot our animals before.” The other woman took a heavy breath.
“Juran I only know through his reputation as an exemplary if somewhat sly officer. Teraka… he’s odd, I grant you. Callio, his daughter, is a brilliant young girl, and it’s clear he loves her dearly.” She tutted, bringing her cup to her lips. “I thought he’d left this all behind him…” Turin tilted her head quizzically.
“Left what behind him?”
“You don’t know?” Rylett brought her cup down again. “Teraka used to work with Juran, he was an extermination officer before his wife passed.” Turin blinked slowly, sucking air between her teeth.
“A retired officer… who just so happened to set up shop on our border?”
“Yeah, hmm…” The two found that their teas had run cold.
The door flooded the night with warm light, Braq silhouetted in the way.
“Would either of you lovely ladies like to solve this conundrum?!” he called out, a little exasperated. Imdi peered around his legs.
“We’re playing buro!” he said cheerily. “Oof-!” He fell forward with a breathy giggle, Ki-yu’s black hands dragging him by the ankles out of sight.
“Ki-yu, what did I say?!” Braq half-laughed, the door closing with a creak. The girls muffled bark of “Terroc!” could be heard from outside. Turin locked eyes with Rylett, and a moment later the two broke into stifled snickers.
“N-no!” Turin wheezed, the predators shuffling in their pens as Rylett clutched her stomach. “P-please be quiet! If –hee-hee!– they heard us…!”
“Oh-! Ahaha…” Rylett pawed at Turin’s shoulder. “I’m a teacher, Turin… I know about handling kids… But they’re so stupid!” The two laughed raucously. After a while, their mirth ran out, returning them to the cool and the dark.
“Oh…” Turin said at length. “But what do I do Rylett? We don’t mean anyone any harm. Can’t we just be left alone?”
“To be honest, Turin, I think that’s the last thing you should do.”
“Really?” Rylett nodded, then clicked her tongue.
“Why don’t you should show some people around? Show people your predators.” Turin looked at her like she was mad. Did we break her?! “Of course, you’ll have to keep her hidden,” she chuckled. “I mean the estate. Your operation. It would scare people less if they knew what you’re doing here.”
“Oh, yes, ‘cause that worked out so well with you.”
“Well, I don’t exactly recommend the ‘scare senseless then trap with a pyq approach.’” Rylett scratched her chin thoughtfully. “How about a school trip?”
“Wh-? You mean… bring a class all the way out here?”
“Sure, why not? Well, the parents would have to sign off on it, but it’d change up some of the sciences curriculum.” She gingerly pressed a paw on Turin’s arm. “And maybe show the public that you’re not just a pair of crazy ecologists.” Turin scoffed but found herself smiling.
“We’ll consider it,” she said, Rylett matching her stride as they headed back toward the lodge. “Is that what you think of us? Just a pair of nutcases?” Rylett grinned wryly at her.
“I’m yet to see any evidence to the contrary.”
A pair of board games were spread across the table, Braq trying to play his two children at once. He gasped like a drowning man breaching the surface at the women’s return.
“Took you long enough!” he grumbled playfully. “Care to join us?”
“Thank you,” the Priestess hooted, “but I think it’s time I left.”
“You won’t stay for a game of terroc?” Ki-yu whined.
“Or even buro?” Imdi added, his sister swatting him with her tail.
“No, not this time,” Rylett chuckled. “Thank you for the lovely meal, and your hospitality.” She stopped opposite Ki-yu, the girl suddenly shy. “Next lesson will be online, first thing the day after tomorrow. Okay?” Ki-yu nodded, a nervous smirk on her lips. Rylett gave Imdi a fond pat on the head, offered the adults a warm smile, and turned toward the door.
“Rylett!” Ki-yu called out, her chair squeaking as she dropped to the floor.
“Y-yes, Ki-yu?” Rylett said, her paw hovering on the handle as the pyq approached and stood. The girl looked up with dark oval eyes, before slowly she pressed her arms around the Priestess’s middle, embracing her as tightly as she could. Rylett froze, her eyes wide and intense, unsure of what to do with her shaking claws. But a moment later they found Ki-yu’s shoulders. Her gaze met Turin’s; the flickering light of the fire reflected in her misty eyes.
“Thank you,” the girl whispered. “Thank you so much.” Rylett swallowed, nodding absently as she ran a paw across Ki-yu’s scalp.
“You’ve… got some very strong arms,” she managed, making Ki-yu fall back at once, mumbling apologies. Rylett just smiled forlornly at her. “The day after tomorrow. Don’t be late.”
“I’ll be there,” Ki-yu said, letting the tiniest hint of teeth into her smile.
“Goodbye, strange child,” she said softly, then nodding at each of the others in turn. “I’ll see you soon.”
Ki-yu watched her leave from the window, Turin running a paw across her back as she joined her. The girl purred against her, the hovercar’s jets spewing lines of fire into the night, their tracks like burning tears rising through the pyq’s dark eyes.
---
And my heart it shook with fear
I'm a coward behind a shield and spear
Take this sword and throw it far
Let it shine under the morning star
Who are you? Who am I to you?
I am the antichrist to you
Fallen from the sky with grace
Into your arms race.
– I Am The Antichrist To You, Kishi Bashi. 2012.