Gaffriel 74

Niala taking the left for me? What world was this? Why did every dream and wish I’d had since I was a little boy have to come like this? Creator, you are so cruel. He baited me with her like a gilded gift, and nothing about her was beyond my ability to love, my ability to handle.

There she was, taking orders from me, following me around, and talking about taking the left like she’d decided. How come she didn’t have thoughts of chasing fires of others?

Kiromir is going to fucking kill me. I. am. dead.

“Let’s get food before we go.” It’s all I could think to say as I turned my head away and let those words sink into me. ‘When I take the left for you.’

Creator’s.

Fucking.

Feathers.

I couldn’t look her in the eye, but I stole glances as our hands found one another’s again. Her lips turned up in a soft, curious smile. Our fingers laced, and where yesterday had been nearly unbearable around her, it mellowed out for me. Yeah, I wanted it. Yeah, I definitely had questions for Dimal. But my heart overflowed with something that wasn’t fires, occupying dark parts of my mind.

“Sorry.” She added. She stuffed her free hand in her pocket, trying to stifle out the scent of it, I guess.

“For what?” I knew what she apologized for, but I wanted to see her struggling to say something about it.

“My ault, you know.” Her eyes avoided mine.

The corners of my mouth curled up at the edges—smug. I felt my cheeks dimpling at the sheer effort of not laughing.

“I’ll get over it. Maybe the secret isn’t to stop smelling it, but maybe to get so much of it that you become immune?” I pulled her hand and turned into her.

“AH!” Just a bleat of noise from her lips as she backed up. She didn’t release my hand, though, as I grasped harder. I wasn’t going to let her go.

“I’m going to get revenge for yesterday,” I told her, and this look of fear and delight blossomed in her eyes. “But not until we find everyone.”

She closed her eyes, trembling. The sigh that followed held motes of disappointment.

“Let’s move on. The Texas one is next.” I squeezed her hand.

Do I feel bad about this?

No. No, I don’t.

“What about the barracks? If the elders are there, they might can help?” She stammered.

“If they got the Sentinels and knew about us, they know about the barracks. We’ll either lead them right to them, or we’re going to go straight into a trap.”

I squeezed her hand, and we shared mana again. She felt so full of it.

We flashed into a spot behind a row of businesses lined with dumpsters, and alone cat scrabbled out of a bin in fear.

“I can’t smell anything over the trash.” Niala buried her face into her elbow. If the smell upset me, she must have been truly disgusted by it.

She led me, pushing down the row and towards an alley. She moved blindly to escape the smell, dragging me behind her. It felt like our usual dynamic, just silly Gaff going along by Niala’s shirttails.

“Hey, hey! Bank left. We need to mark the front.” I tugged at her again. Unfortunately, my moment of delight deviated as we slipped through a dark alleyway. She let me retake the lead, stumbling onto a daylit street. This early in the morning, businesses weren’t open yet.

As far as what I remembered, this place used to be a roadside attraction, but now it seemed more like a gift shop. The novelty of it standing tall amid the touristy streets had been replaced by a large gift shop full of mockup oddities for sale from taxidermized baby ducks to giant chocolate bars and a t-shirt that insinuated that they did something gross with bigfoot.

I glanced at the shirt through the window, and Niala’s nose wrinkled. I had spent a lot of time with humans in public school, so I understood what it meant. Niala just seemed to glaze over it without comment.

Thank goodness for homeschooling.

She had her wristband off in the blink of an eye and swiped it down the doorframe against chipping white paint. She sealed it back up and looked over at me. “There’s a butcher down that way. I can smell it, and you said something about food.”

I nearly forgot. So, since she obviously didn’t scent anything, we needed to move. She had a one-track mind when she got something in her head. She had a single at that moment. She wanted to get food, and that’s what we would do. Not knowing where the scent trailed from, I followed her lead.

Not a soul noticed us as we walked. I was so tired of running, and it was nice to just sniff the air and wander. She wasn’t smiling anymore, focused on finding something, alert.

“Sour mana,” she whispered, looking around.

“Sentinels?”

“No. It’s like… I can’t describe it. Just keep an eye out.” She squinted.

We paused for a moment outside of an austere building. White enameled paint contrasted against the black, brick, and green of the streets around it. It looked like something out of a fantasy, white columns inset into the frame, and a hand-lettered black and simple gold placard boasted itself to be ‘Daw Antiquities.’ She stared wearily at the building for a few seconds before we moved on. Then, satisfied, she moved, and we wound our way around the corner of a city block off the beaten path to an old white-paneled building advertising ‘fresh meat.’

“Anything in particular that you want?” I realized I hadn’t eaten anything but some fruit in over a day as I asked her. My jaw had been messed up before that.

“Beef, uhhh…. Ribeye or flank.” She bit over her lower lip as she thought, hungry in so many ways.

This isn’t the only meat she craves.

Chata ryel nah, my mind is hanging out in some dirty places.

“I’ve never eaten it raw before… What would you recommend?” I shifted as she looked up at me, eyes focused on my lips.

“Flat iron or carne asada or something. It’ll be easier for you to tear off. You don’t have teeth like mine.” Her tongue roved over the sharpness in her mouth.

All the wildlings had pronounced canines, not vampiric or wolfish, just pronounced. Niala crossed lines with hers, though—almost catlike, the way they seemed to hook a little. I thought they’d be needle-sharp, but when she bit me back at the hotel—so gentle—and they were certainly interesting to explore with my tongue. I looked away from her as she closed her lips self-consciously, us thinking two vastly different things.

I reached my hand over her head and messed up her hair before slipping into the store, letting her wait outside while I went in, eyes vigilant, aura up, nose at the ready.

The attendant looked frankly bored as I made my order as he wrapped it up and sent me on my way. I left a decent tip in his jar for the effort. I wasn’t necessarily wasteful with the money, but carrying change and small bills was a hassle I didn’t need right now.

Niala cut her eyes when I came out, bag in hand, and she pointed us out, down another path off into a treeline. I followed her at a casual pace, no rushing, no urgency. We did what we came for, though I felt like her only thoughts lay with the barracks. I stalled because I had a bad feeling. I didn’t want to say it, but I wondered if there would be anything left to return to—people or home.