Xaxac stared up at the sixty flowers dancing on the ceiling and felt the slow, steady, rhythmic pattern of the rise and fall of Agalon’s chest against his side.
He glanced to the windows and watched the waning moons that seemed to stand still in the night sky.
Where was everyone?
What had happened to them?
What had happened to him?
Why was he this drunk again?
The thoughts flittered in and out of his mind, and all the things he had never wanted to think about piled up, one on top of the other, and he was not coordinated enough to stop them. He had so many questions and so few answers that the concept made his head hurt as they piled up behind his eyes and he had no way to get rid of them.
Why would Aggie send Jimmy away?
Didn’t he know? Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t know about Alice, didn’t know she was Xaxac’s sister.
Maybe he thought he didn’t have a sister.
Because he didn’t have a sister.
But he did, didn’t he?
He had a sister, and a father, and a mother, and it was so hard to pretend he didn’t.
Why did Agalon think he didn’t have a sister?
Why did he think he did?
Did the viper have a sister? A mother? A father?
Did it matter?
It would be so easy, to be dead. Dead men told no tales, had no problems, no worries, no thoughts, no emotions. One day he would be dead, and it would be like none of it ever happened. Everyone died. Humans began to die from the day they were born. And there were so many of them. Each of them was disposable-
Xac’s eyes shot to his new wardrobe.
Each of them was replaceable.
Are you crying again? He asked himself. Why are you doing that? Who does that help? You’re going to wake him up.
His eyes were beginning to grow heavy, and his muscles impossible to tense. He had been through it enough to know what it was, even though his thoughts jumbled and piled. The frost was wearing off, and he was going to crash, hard. He had taken so much this time.
Are you crying again? Who does that help?
“Are you crying?” Morgani asked as he reached out and took Quizlivan’s hand to tug him close. He was tall enough and strong enough that he could pull Quizzy’s head to his chest, under the furs the humans had given him, and hold it there.
“Yeah,” Quizlivan admitted, “But… but we don’t have time for it.”
“I think…” Morgani said, “That we have plenty of time.”
But Quizlivan shoved himself away, because Morgani was wrong. They were running out of time. The people back at the cave were starving and they had to get the food back to them. It was trampled, but it was fine.
And he would rather look at the corpse of the dragon than the people.
Ahnah and Kifat were slicing away and packing the chunks they cut in snow to keep. It looked as if they were crying, too. They were all that was left. The rest of the hunting party had been broken beyond recognition, some packed down so much by the force of the stampede they had gone right through the snow and pressed against the ice. They were notsomuch corpses as they were stains.
He unsheathed his dagger and went to help.
The wolves gathered round, but they were not so meticulous. They could eat the meat raw and they had been starving, so now they gnawed, unencumbered by any sort of manners, all sharp teeth and licking tongues.
“Three is not nothing,” said the Queen of the Wolves.
“Even one would not be nothing,” Ahnah agreed, “One could take it back to the tribe. We… we have to survive. The group has to survive.”
“Let’s just get as much as we can carry,” Tifat said without looking up from his work.
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“Half,” Morgani said as he approached them, “Get your fair share. I’ll carry it. But… do freeze it first. It… it doesn’t go nowhere when I put it in this bag.”
“Should we bury-” Quizlivan asked, but he was cut off.
“You know we don’t have time,” Kifat said, not unkindly.
Quizlivan looked up at the full moons, the two that were left, drifting through the night sky and stalled in his work. He had to know. He had to see them.
He walked on unsteady legs to the first corpse.
The Viper’s head had been smashed in, and he lay in a heap of blood and grey matter seeping out onto the snow.
“Little Bunny Foo Foo
Hopping through the forest
Scooping up the field mice
And bopping them on the heads.”
“Aggie?” Xaxac asked, and spun to find the sound of the voice, but he was alone in the snow, standing in front of the forest.
“Little baby Bunting,
Daddy’s gone a-hunting
Gone to get a rabbit skin
To wrap a baby Bunting in.”
Xaxac whipped around again and found himself standing in the house he had once shared with his parents. There was no fire lit in the hearth, the chairs had not been pushed back under the table, and the bed was still made, exactly as he had left it.
“She was halfway to Seaweed!” Jimmy screamed, though he was not there, “She almost made it!”
“See the little rabbit go hop hop hop
See his little ears go flop flop flop.”
“Aggie!” Xaxac begged, though he could not see him, “Please! Where ya’ at? I can’t see ya! I’m scared!”
He threw open the door and ran out into the autumn night, racing towards the house- but he caught sight of the moons, round and full in the sky and had to stumble, fall, from the pain of it as his body began to change.
He could see everything, in front of him, behind him, to the sides, and the scent of the fields overpowered him. He needed to go back to the warren. Where was the warren? He had to pick a direction, but he didn’t know where he was. Where could he run? Back to the little house his parents had built? Forward, to the big house where he lived with Agalon?
His ears perked up as he tried to listen, but hundreds of voices rang out in the night, and he could not possibly interpret him all.
“Just another pretty little thing he owns.”
“This is bull-shit!”
“Did Agalon just grab a butler so he wouldn’t have to forfeit?”
“Are you wearing makeup? You look like a damn pleasure slave.”
“That thing is gonna kill us. I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but I’m against it!”
“You’re so cute, Honey Bunny.”
“It’s alright, Xac, daddy’s here.”
“Who did this to my baby brother? Ima kill him.”
“Don’t try and talk, baby, just rest.”
“I am absolutely erect with terror.”
“The Winner: Xaxac ‘Bunny Foo Foo’ OfAgalon!”
“Are you crying again!?”
Xaxac could not trust himself to pick a direction, so he took off at a sprint, but he felt the pain radiate through his entire body as his face collided with a wall, and he was knocked on his back.
He opened his eyes to see sixty flowers above him, but the room was empty. He stood and tried the door, but the knob would not budge.
“Your goddamn pleasure slave loves his daddy more than I love mine!” Lorsan shrieked from the other side of the door, “How does that feel? You’re gonna die alone, and nobody is gonna care! Everybody hates you!”
“Aggie!” Xac begged, “Let me out! Please, I’m scared!”
Xaxac threw his entire body weight into the door, and he stumbled, stepped through it, and tumbled into the grotto. He couldn’t see behind him or to the side anymore.
“Morgan, please!” Lapus begged, “Let me out! Please! I’m scared! You were right!”
Xaxac scrambled to the shelf and threw cups from their resting place to find the one he was looking for. His hand closed around the glistening blue silver and he clutched it to his chest.
“Xaxac,” Lapus begged, though Xaxac could not see him, “Please! Help me! I’ll do anything! I’ll give you anything you ever wanted! You just have to find it!”
“I want my family back!” Xaxac begged, threw a hand over his eyes, and allowed himself to cry.
“Little Bunny Foo Foo,” the crowd chanted, and Xaxac opened his eyes.
They loved him.
Don’t look down.
This was the wrong crowd. He wasn’t standing in the arena, he was standing in what looked like a cave, and the people chanting for him were universally human. But he recognized none of them, so he turned.
Behind him, on the cave wall, water had condensed in a strange way to spell out a message he could not read.
Xaxac awoke to the sounds of Lee making his way through the room in near silence and sat up slowly as Lee set out the tray with his breakfast.
“You got a few more minutes,” Lee whispered.
“It’s alright,” Xac promised, “I’m up.”