Page 133 of The Tenth Muse

“Holy shit.” Meri’s shock breaks me from my sad thoughts.

ten

. . .

America

“Yeah, it’s perfect, right?”Runa asks once she sees my attention is beyond the clearing, directed into the dark of the forest.

“Yes!” I squeal, finally understanding her plan.

Just past the line of trees behind the cottage is another smaller, more hidden clearing. A metal tripod nearly eight feet tall takes up the majority of the space, and from the top of it hangs a chain from a loop. It secures on top of the handle of what seems to be an iron bowl, keeping it hanging about three feet from the air.

No, not a bowl, a cauldron.

Below it is a pile of ashes, indicative of the pyre that once heated it.

“We’re gonna cook him into plant food?” I confirm, unable to contain the excitement.

The cauldron is at least five feet in diameter, if we tuck him in like a little baby he’ll be snug as a bug inside that thing, and if the fire is going all night, he’ll be nothing but liquid in a day or two. “Bones are good too, once we get all the meat off of himwe can bake the bones and turn them into powder for even more nutrients.”

Runa bats her eyes incredulously, “I-I.” she struggles with her words, fumbling so uncomfortably that I’m sure I’ve crossed the line.

Powdered bones? Meat falling off the bone? You went way too far.

“I don’t want to say I love you because it’s been at best like, a day if you don’t count the time we were put to sleep, and” she laughs awkwardly, “the last thing you need is to be trapped in the woods with some crazy clinger girlfriend.”

“But?” I bite back the smile at hearing her say she loves me, even if the words before them might have beenI don’t want to say.

No one has ever gotten so close to saying the words.

She clears her throat uncomfortably, “But I know I’m going to Meri.”

Her eyes meet mine for only a second before she shifts them down to the ground again, like she’s maybe trying to avoid the possibility of rejection here.

“I’m gonna love you too.” It sounds so damn stupid but it’s the only reply I can think of.

A goofy grin breaks through her expression, her eyes moving to where my chest lifts with every breath.

“If we can get him cooking now, then by the time we come back from ditching the car he should be ready to feed to Chewie.”

“Perfect.”

It takes more effort to get Williams undressed then it does to carry him over to the cauldron in the woods.

It’s deep, which is perfect because even at almost six feet tall, we’re able to cram him into the space in the fetal position. There’s enough pre-cut logs from the last time Runa was here,but still, I pick some dry sticks for kindling. His bloody clothes make for shit firestarter, but we toss it in anyway.

It takes about three trips to the well for water to get enough to fill the cauldron before we can close the lid. The iron is heavy and it takes the both of us to lock it in right.

“Is it going to smell?” I ask her.

Runa shrugs, “This is also my first time boiling man-stew.”

Grabbing her hand for comfort, I drop my head to her shoulder and we stand, watching the little flame under the cauldron turn into a full on blaze. It will simmer soon, and then Williams will be gone.

And we will be free.

Runa isn’t wrong, and I somehow have a feeling that it’s a good indicator for the majority of how our life will be. I’m positively infatuated with her, with the way she makes me feel and the way I’m no longer in a rush to get through each day just because she’s around.

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