Damphir - 6. Chapter 6

As usual the dining room falls silent when I walk through the door. As usual Rover calls to me and I run a gauntlet of comments jibes and sharp elbows to get to my place. Pixie, the fey who had introduced me to the wonder of my aripa caz, is prime among my tormentors and never misses an opportunity to belittle, insult, embarrass or even physically hurt me. To be fair to him he is usually fed by Valentine and, on the odd occasion when I come across him in the halls alone, he usually gives me a look as if he wanted to say something and is generally sheepish.

In the beginning I thought that it was an indication that he didn’t hate me as much as I thought and that he really wanted to be friends somewhere deep down inside. I made the mistake of trying to reach out to him and fan that ember only to have it thrust back into my face in no uncertain terms. Having been burned once there was more chance of hell freezing over than of me reaching out to any of them again.

Tonight it is particularly painful and I sit with my head down and my cheeks blazing as they have a conversation about ‘famous outcasts of history’, all of whom happen to have been Damphirs. I have no idea whether there were actually ‘famous outcasts of history’, although I suspect that was something that they completely made up, along with the unfortunates they endowed with the title, just to tease me.

The thing that surprises me most is that Fougue never makes a move to support me or to in any way tone down the abuse, although he never joins it himself. It hurts me more than anything. It makes me think that my original assessment was right and that he hates me as much as any of the others and actually likes to see me hurt. That does nothing for my sense of security. Rover, of course stands up for me when he can but he, like I, learned very early on that it generally ends up doing more harm than good.

“Of course,” Valentine continues in that arrogant, smirking tone that makes me want to slap his face, “being Damphirs we shouldn’t really endow them with the title of ‘famous’ at all. Being little more than vermin they deserve nothing more than to be blotted from the pages of history rather than to be afforded a place within them.”

There is polite laughter around the table and my face stings where someone threw something. I didn’t see who or what. It makes no difference.

“Sartorian obviously doesn’t think so,” Rover counters angrily. I kick his ankle and he subsides but it’s too late.

“Ah yes, but our little pussycat is in a different category isn't he? Not only is he Damphir he is Damphir three times over. Sartorian always had a taste for the unusual. He likes his freaks and follies. Being unique it is hardly surprising that pussy cat caught his attention. Clearly he’s brought him here so that we can take care of him until Sar has opportunity to find him a place in a Circus somewhere.”

“A Circus?” Shit... why did I let him get a rise out of me? But the very word sends fear coursing through me. I can't help but lift my head and he sees the fear in my eyes. Damn, damn, damn. I’ve shown weakness and that is the LAST thing I need right now.

“I’m sure he’ll find a nice place for you, little freak, somewhere you won't be treated too badly. What, you didn’t think that he was actually going to keep you did you?”

What had I thought? What did I think? I thought... I thought that when he came back he would... “I think that he wouldn’t have brought me here and put me up in his own room if he was intending to sell me to a Circus.” I speak confidently enough but I’m not confident, not at all. On the night he took me he said... ‘You’d better be worth it little bitch’, what had he meant? Worth what? Worth the price he got for me?

Suddenly I feel cold. Suddenly the faces around me are not just unfriendly, they’re sinister. I look for help to Fougue but his eyes are carefully blank. I am going to get no help from him. Why? He’s been so kind to me in so many ways, so why is he letting this happen now? Well, there’s only one reason isn’t there? He can't tell me that it’s not true, that everything is going to be alright: he can’t tell them to stop saying what they’re saying because it’s a lie... because it’s not a lie, it is true.

I glance quickly at Rover who is staring at me with a look on his face that tells me clearly that he isn’t completely sure.

“Well, of course he would. You were weak and ill... you’d get no price like that. He had to make sure that you were cared for in the best way possible so that when the time came you would be as strong and pretty as possible, to get the best price possible.”

I hang my head and stare at my plate, but I don’t see it, I don’t see anything. Cat is finally coming out of the moment and looking at the future, and the future looks bleak. I don’t know any of these people, not really, and that includes Rover, Fougue and particularly Sar. Rover has told me over and over that Sar is a good person, that he would have brought me here for a reason but even he can’t guess at the reason and he hasn’t known Sar all that long himself.

Fougue, of course, has consistently reassured me that all will be well but then he would have wouldn’t he; he is Sar’s friend, his closest confidante. He would know. He would know what they were intending for me and he would do his best to carry out Sar’s wishes and keep me here in ignorance until they came for me. That’s probably where he is now... negotiating over me, selling me somewhere.

Oh god it all makes sense. It all makes horrible, cold, suddenly clear sense. It all fits. I’m trembling with fear and reaction; the realisation that everything I believed; the safety and structure I have built around myself since I woke up in this place, is a lie. Maybe even Rover knew. Maybe he’s been in on it and he’s been trying to lull me into a false sense of security like all the others. Keep me compliant. Keep me docile. Keep me here.

“NO.” Vampire snaps to the fore screaming... there is NO way they are going to do that to me. At least there is no way they are going to take me without a fight.

Taking everyone by surprise I leap out of my seat and up onto the table. Before anyone has a chance to move I’m leaping over Fougue’s head, resisting the temptation to kick him in the face as that would only have cost me precious seconds of time. Ignoring the shouts from behind I bolt for the door and thankfully wrench it open before anyone can catch me. As I run out into the gathering twilight I feel them close behind and I know I can’t outrun them. I can’t outrun a werewolf and I can’t outrun a vampire... but I can out fly them.

There are only three people here capable of flight. Falon won’t care to try. He’s a were eagle and holds himself aloof from everyone else, not because he thinks he’s better than they are, simply because that’s his way.

Morph is a fey shapeshifter, but he is essentially an earth elemental and, although he can fly he is clumsy and nowhere near as fast as I am.

So that just leaves Pixie. I know he is fast but he is merely fey and he doesn’t have the additional strength that I have. My wings are bigger than his and there is more strength behind them to keep them pumping fast.

I spiral up as far as I can and make sure that Pixie follows me, then I plummet like a stone towards a forest on the foothills of the mountain range on which the house perches. A straight, fast dive is one of the most difficult manoeuvres a winged fey can perform. It puts incredible strain on the wings and is rather like driving at a brick wall at a hundred miles an hour... where do you start to break and what happens if it’s not soon enough?

As I’d hoped Pixie falters, the strain on his wings too much and his faith in his ability to pull back in time too little. Long before I cease my headlong plunge he pulls back to circle above. I know I have more strength than he has and therefore a better ability to pull out of the dive, much better.

I let my toes skim the top of the trees as I flatten out and, once I have decelerated which I do at breakneck speed I drop through the canopy, withdrawing my wings just before I hit the ground and then transform. There is no way, even if Pixie can locate the exact place I entered the forest, that he can follow my cat form.

I run and run and run, until I can’t run anymore and then I stop. Transforming, I sit with my back against a tree and sob. What a fool I’ve been. What a bloody, bloody fool. Why in God’s name did I trust them? I’m Damphir. I was dragged here... there, by violence and kept there ever since. Okay, I wasn’t a prisoner, at least not overtly. There were no locks on the doors; the bonds had been a lot more subtle than that.

“Rover,” the name is torn from my lips like a cry of pain, which I guess it is. I thought he was my friend. Maybe he was. Maybe he’d had no idea that he was being used in that way. I think he didn’t. I want to think he didn’t. But Fougue did, he must have and I trusted him. “Nooooo.” I let cat howl into the night. It’s not a howl like a werewolf, it’s more of a screech but it’s what cats do.

When my throat is too sore to scream any more I curl up against the roots of the tree, confident that I am safe, that no one from that house can find me now... and I cry myself to sleep.

The dream hits me hard and fast. It’s a dream about him, Sartorian. In the dream he is not beating me or throwing me to the ground or pinning me against the wall; he is looking deeply into my eyes and telling me how beautiful I am and how much he loves me. He is kissing me and touching me and...

Something’s wrong. Even in the dream I know that something is wrong. There is a strong feeling of danger and it’s something that has saved my life many times before. I have trained myself to feel it even when I am deeply asleep and to wake instantly when I do. Tonight is no exception. I lie absolutely still and note that it is now full dark. I have been asleep for some time even though it seemed like only moments.

No one is touching me. There is no sound of movement but there is a smell, a strong smell... wolves. Whether they are were or natural wolves I can’t tell. When weres are in full transformation they are impossible to distinguish from the naturals, at least not from smell. Extending my senses I ascertain that there are three of them, standing in a semi circle around me and now that I know what I am looking for I can hear the panting just on the threshold of hearing.

I know what they will be doing. They will be gathering, sniffing, evaluating. Am I a threat or am I prey. The different scents of my different natures are confusing them and, until they decide what to do they won’t make a move. They will circle and sniff and pose for each other. But once they have decided, they will attack. Whether threat or prey makes no difference; they will attack either way. The only difference is when and how.

So what should I do? I can’t outrun a wolf as cat or human. Possibly as vampire but there may be more in the woods and they are more than capable of passing the message on. I could transform into cat and climb a tree, but I am too big to be good at that, especially in these trees. For sure I would stand up better in a fight as cat, his teeth and claws do far more damage than mine... and he’s big. But surely my best chance is as fey. Wolves can’t fly.

If I remember, there is a clearing only a few steps behind me. The only problem is that the wolves are between me and it. If I can just get past them I can launch into the clearing and up into the clear skies. Surely those from the house will have given up looking by now, and even if not they will be far away, far enough to risk breaking cover. Well... it’s either that or a tooth and claw fight with three wolves. I know which one bears the best chances.

Okay... think it: do it.

Unfolding from the tree as fast as all my natures combined can launch me I leap lightly into the air, actually touching the back of the largest wolf to launch myself again into the clearing spreading my wings as I do.

“Glory, what are you doing? Come back.”

I am so surprised by hearing one of the wolves call my name that I twist to see them loping from the edge of the trees, half transformed so they can speak. One of them is Rover. But I have no intention of going back. Fuck. How did they find me? And if they are here then... I turn back just in time to hit a solid wall.

Ricocheting off Falon’s cast iron chest my wings are pulled forward by the force of my backwards plunge and when I am hit again from the side, with arms wrapping tightly around my body the force flings me towards the ground before I or Pixie can recover enough to beat upwards again.

My body hits the ground half on my back and half on my side and the most incredible burst of pain very nearly renders me instantly unconscious. Oh fuck. Oh hell. Oh fuck that hurts. That hurts so much, so much, so much. The last thing I want is to cry but... oh fuck it hurts. What have they done to me? What have they done to make me hurt so much? There is a face hovering over me, it’s eyes huge and shocked.

“I’m sorry Glory, I didn’t mean to... I... I just...”

The face flies suddenly to one side to be replaced by another. If I squint my eyes I can just about see the glowing eyes.

“Get the fuck away from him, Pixie. It’s your fault he’s here in the first place.”

“My fault? It was Valentine who...”

“And I didn’t hear you saying anything to contradict him.”

“I didn’t hear you saying much either Rover.”

I think they may still be arguing. I don’t know. I can’t hear them anymore. I can't hear anything. I can’t hear anything; I can’t see anything: I can’t feel anything, nothing but the pain in what I now realise is my left wing which is twisted beneath me.

“Oh god what have you done?”

The words don’t really come out, not really. I meant them to but my voice isn’t working. It’s being swallowed by the pain and now the fear and it’s all just too much for me and all I want is for it all to go away. And it does.

“What the hell...? Fougue you were supposed to be taking care of him. That doesn’t sound like taking care to me. Were you there?”

“Yes, I was there.”

“Then why didn’t you stop it?”

“Because I thought that he could handle it. He needs to stand up for himself, to deal with them Sar. If I had said anything, made any move to help him it would only have made it worse. You know what Valentine is like. If Glory doesn’t learn to stand up to him he’ll torment him for the rest of his life.”

“And what about this ridiculous idea that I am going to sell him to a Circus? Why the hell didn’t you at least set that one straight?”

“Because I thought he had come to know Valentine, and to trust me enough to realise what a ridiculous notion it was.”

“Clearly not.”

“Clearly not,” Fougue said with a sigh, a grim look on his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it. Valentine, as usual is unrepentant but the rest, including Falon have been searching for hours. The flyers think they’ve found him but they’re waiting for the wolves, hoping that he won’t run from Rover.”

“Is he alright?”

“Seems so. He’s asleep somewhere out in the woods, exhausted.”

“If any harm comes to him, heads will roll.”

“I told you, I will take care of it,” Fougue said mildly.

“No, you won't. This is too important: I’m coming back.”

I’m glad you’ve realised that it’s important at least.”

“I’ve always known it’s important Fougue, I just haven’t known what to do with that knowledge.”

“And do you know what to do with it now?”

“No, not at all but it seems as if I am going to have to take action personally before the choice is taken out of my hands.”

“He does seem to have something of a death wish.”

“I’m not surprised; death is a friend, it’s been stalking him since the day he was born and the fact that he lives at all is testament to the fact that they have become close acquaintances.”

“Perhaps. What are your plans?”

“As soon as I put down this telephone I am going to make arrangements to come home.”

“When can we expect you home?”

“Some time tomorrow if things go well.”

“I would say that I will have your room prepared but I doubt that you will be prepared in any measure for what awaits you in your room this time.”

There was silence for a moment and then Sar shocked his friend by speaking more softly and more gently than he had heard for a very long time. “What’s he like Fougue? Is he really as beautiful as he seemed?”

“He is... interesting.”

“That tells me nothing, Fougue,” he snapped.

“What can I say? He is beautiful, certainly. He is full of fire; brave and stubborn, a fair match for you but he is... more.”

“More?”

“Strange. Like nothing I have come across before.”

“That is hardly surprising given what he is.”

“Have you been able to discover anything about what he is?”

“Not really. I can find a brief mention of those such as he, here and there, mostly scattered among folk tales and urban legend. There are no open accounts that I have been able to find. No one I have spoken to has known anything, although one among the Council recalls seeing someone like him many years ago when they moved to close a Circus. He was in such poor condition he did not survive to tell them anything but post mortem examination revealed evidence that he contained all four species within him. In that case his were side was wolf but had characteristics of both fey and vampire and the smell of human. It was surmised that the human side was what balanced the other three, very different natures, and stopped them from competing and tearing apart the mind of their bearer.

Fougue shuddered. “I have not seen a Circus and glad of it.”

“I have.” Sar said, low and bitterly, and I can quite understand that the thought of it would make Glory bolt. He knows what they are about and the prospect of being delivered to one would have been terrifying for him.”

“Have you learned more of the bonding?”

“I don’t need to learn about that Fougue, I know all I need to about it’s nature... it’s what to do with it that eludes me.”

“Do with it? Is there not only one thing you can do with it?”

“Just carry out your instructions Fougue and try to do it better than you did before.”

“I’ll speak to you again after being in his company for an hour.”

After the conversation Fougue stood tapping the phone for a while, until he was disturbed by Falon, who threw open the door without knocking. Being sparse of words he said simply.

“They’ve found him. He’s hurt. They’re bringing him home but it will take some time.”

“What happened?”

“His wing is injured.”

“How long?” Fougue had learned by now that Falon was interested in nothing but the bare bones of whatever was being talking about and didn’t bother with anything more.

“Walking maybe two hours.”

“Can you and Pixie carry him?”

“Perhaps.”

“Will you and Pixie carry him?”

“Perhaps, if the wolf will let us. He is protective and he is angry with us. We were the cause of the fall that caused the injury. It was not our fault.”

“Take Morph, perhaps he can carry him on his own. Perhaps Rover will trust him.”

“Perhaps.”