Somewhere in the depths of my subconscious, I knew what I was watching might be the final straw, might finally split a tenuous crack, leaving me in separate, unconnected pieces. But I couldn’t make myself look away.
From a perch above, I could see what I knew was Fannie, what only I knew was Fannie, slinking slowly toward a council member. He stood tall, his robe and tassels unruffled, murmuring words I could not understand. I couldn’t decide whether to scream in warning or to root for his demise, for I knew, also, that his death would release me.
The panther came into his view and sauntered closer, enjoying itself too much. Then, without warning, it launched forward into the chest of the council member–Magnus White, I now knew. It tore out his throat as they both landed with a thud on the ground behind him, blood spattering down the clean white robe, tassels splayed out on the ground. The cat lingered above him for a few moments, seemingly savoring the sight of the blood flowing from the fatal wound of its prey. Then it turned, slow and deliberate, to look directly at me, its dark muzzle wet with death.
Fear overtook me.
I couldn’t stop myself from talking when I woke, oblivious at first to my surroundings. “The animals. She’s using the animals.”
I felt a hand on my shoulder and I realized I wasn’t alone, Ruby and Chevelle were there in my now tattered hut. Panic still gripped me.
“Easy, Frey.” Ruby tried to calm me.
I looked at them again; they had been watching me sleep. They must have wanted to talk to me; Ruby had probably explained our conversation to him while I slept. Our talk about Fannie. A shiver racked my body.
“What is it, Frey?” Ruby asked, her tone concerned as her hand remained resting on my shoulder. From across the hut I saw Chevelle’s gaze narrow as he gave her a knowing look. He must have blamed her for telling me.
I shook my head. “No, she’s using the cats." Even in my panic, I instantly regretted that I had chosen cats for my own ploy in the castle. "She’s taking them out, one by one. She knows…”
He stiffened. “How could you know that?”
I didn’t answer his question but instead kept rambling about my dream. “She knows they won’t kill the animals, knows she has free reign to slaughter them all.” I could hear the blind panic in my own voice.
He leaned forward. “Frey, it was just a dream. No one knows-”
“No.” I cut him off. “I know.”
His brow puckered, unsure of how to respond.
“And she’s coming after me.”
My head was spinning. I sat on the bed trying to absorb the whole thing, striving to hold on. I realized I was rocking back and forth, which probably looked less than sane so I stopped myself, only to start biting my lip moments later.
Eventually, they calmed me down. Rational thought had returned when I was fully awake and the dream had had time to lose some of its potency. Ruby sat beside me, offering me tea and anything else she could think of. It was quiet for a long time.
And then it struck me, they were too quiet. They weren’t shocked at all.
“You knew?”
Ruby didn’t answer. I looked at Chevelle accusingly for what seemed like too many times.
“We could not be certain.”
How? How could they have known? The same as before. “Junnie?”
He replied with a curt and uncomfortable nod.
Junnie. I started to ask why they hadn’t told me but as my mouth opened I remembered the chain of events that followed her visit. How could they have explained anything to me? I’d passed out. And when I’d woke, I’d not even spoken, I’d been obsessed, doing nothing but reading the diary of my dead mother. They thought I was too fragile to include. I closed my mouth.
They might have been right.
I blew out an exasperated breath. So Fannie’s killing council. And then, in an instant, I felt like a complete idiot.
“That’s why I’m remembering.” It seemed so obvious now. All I received was another nod, another confirmation. Just like Ruby had said, as we broke my bonds, we were breaking hers. And now she was breaking mine. And she knew it.
Grey was at the door and Ruby stepped out to speak with him. I watched her leave and then kept my gaze on the doorway. I was alone with Chevelle.
The air was charged, as it almost always was when I was alone with him. Always thick with anger or… I stopped myself, embarrassed again at the thought of how I’d acted the last time he’d been here, in my room. How I had accused him, in such a strange and horrible way, of working for Asher. I couldn’t even think clearly now, there was so much wrong in my head. It was impossible to be rational with so much missing and disconnected. I let myself look at him.
It was a mistake.