He seems as big as a small horse and his paws are bigger than my hands. I know that for a fact. I compared. He’s as heavy as Finn and I put together, maybe more, and I love him. I love him as much as last year, as much as I ever did. Maybe even more. He’s so big that I know he’d never let anything happen to me. Not ever. For some reason, that feels important.
“Let’s go get some breakfast, boy.” Castor pants at my heels as we wind our way through the halls, and his nails click on the stone. He sounds like a moose walking behind me. Nothing about him is subtle.
I pause at Finn’s bedroom and peer in, and I smile when I see Finn and Pollux sprawled together in the sheets. Pollux is every bit as large as Castor, and he makes the giant bed seem small. He perks his ears when he sees me, but doesn’t move.
“Shh, boy,” I tell him. He closes his eyes as though he understands that I want my brother to sleep. We’re jetlagged and down seems like up right now.
When I get to the kitchens, there is no one there. It’s unusual, but it’s far earlier than everyone else gets up on a normal day. Stupid jetlag. I grab a roll from the cabinet, pour some food for Castor, and eat my breakfast.
When I’m finished, I’m still alone in the kitchen.
So Castor and I head outside, stepping along the foggy paths as we explore.
I immediately wish I’d worn a sweater. It’s chilly outside with the morning breeze and the sun only just now coming up. Goosebumps form everywhere on my body and scrape together on my legs as I walk, like prickly miniscule anthills.
The horizon is laced with purples and pinks and reds as the sun begins to tip over the edge. It seems abnormally huge, but it is because Whitley’s grounds are so large, so vast. I’m marveling in the beauty of it when I hear a noise.
A rock tumbling along the path, maybe. A skidding sound, something that interrupts the stillness of morning.
I pause, but Castor bounds ahead without me, his giant body barreling down the path toward the stables, intent on finding the source of the noise.
“Castor!” I call, but he doesn’t listen, and doesn’t even look back.
“Castor!” A male voice barks through the stillness, and Castor skids to a stop at Dare’s feet. “Sit!”
Castor sits obediently and immediately, poised in front of Dare.
I stare at him in awe.
“How did you do that?”
Dare looks up at me and I decide that he must be…. eleven? His hair is a bit shaggy, almost touching his shoulders even. But his eyes… his eyes haven’t changed.
Dark
Dark
Dark as night.
“You have to be firm,” he tells me, his voice clipped and British. “You have to be the boss. They’ve been trained this year, but they’re still puppies. You have to control him.”
I’m hesitant, because Castor is twice, maybe three times my size. Why would he listen to me?
“Call him,” Dare tells me. “Do it firmly. Say, Castor come.”
I do it, trying to mimic the sternness of Dare’s voice.”
Castor looks at me without moving, and Dare snickers.
“You’ve got to call him with authority, little mouse.”
My head snaps up. “Don’t call me that. I’m not a mouse.”
He laughs. “Then don’t act like one. Call him with purpose.”
My lip curls and I snap, “Castor, come.”
Castor gets to his feet and comes straight to me. He stands in front of me, waiting for my command. “Sit.”
He sits.
Like magic.
Dare smiles, and his teeth are very white. “See? He’s been trained. And I’m sure he remembers you. They were both trained with your scents.”
“Our scents?”
Dare nods. “Yeah, yours and your brother’s. Sabine kept a few of your shirts to use for them. It worked, didn’t it? He knew you?”
I nod and I can’t argue. He did know me. But it feels weird to know that my scent was being used without my knowledge this year, even though that’s dumb. My scent doesn’t belong to me. Not really. I put it out into the world, and once it’s released, it never comes back.
Dare walks to me, a little bit skinny, a little bit gawky, but he seems so sophisticated to me, so worldly. He’s three years older after all. The eleven-year olds at school won’t even look twice at me. Well, unless it’s to call me Funeral Home Girl. I cringe at the memory and Dare looks at me curiously.