Page 58 of A Malicious Menagerie
“I won’t leave here without you, Delia,” I tell her firmly. “So, unless you want to be the reason I get caught, you’ll agree to come with us.”
And that’s that.
The centaurs and mermaids present an interesting challenge. Neither pair speaks English, and it takes a lot of hand gestures and pantomiming for me to explain the plan. Even then, I walk away only about fifty percent convinced that they know I was describing an escape plan versus performing an interpretive dance.
Besides Chase, the resident I’m most nervous about approaching is Rory. After all, he could escape at any time if he wanted, yet he chooses to stay captive.
As with most nights, Rory is waiting to greet me, and I’m disappointed by the wave of doom and foreboding that overtakes me at the sight of him. “Ugh.”
Rory looks contrite. “Bad news?”
“So it seems,” I mumble. I decide not to interpret the omen as the plan being doomed to fail. After all, we’re still a few weeks away from the gala, let alone the escape. Maybe I’m due some bad luck before then.
Not exactly comforting.
Rory tilts his head curiously. “Something is troubling you.”
I try to shake off the unease of knowing something bad is going to happen. If I let myself get too caught up in the what-if, I might abort the whole mission. “You once told me that you don’t leave because you have nowhere to go.”
“That’s right,” he agrees, looking confused about where I’m going withthis.
“But what if you did?” I ask, eyeing him closely. “What if I found a safe place for you to go, at least in the short term?”
Rory thinks this over for a moment. “I’d ask where this safe place is?”
“An abandoned water park,” I clarify, encouraged. Is he really considering this? “Across the state line. It has plenty of space, and water for the kelpies and the mermaids. You would be safe there until you decide what you want to do next.”
That was Nathan’s contribution to the plan. A safehouse that FABLE has used before to house creatures with unconventional needs on their way to their final destination. According to Nathan, that destination is home, at least most of the time.
Even as I’m speaking, Rory begins to shake his head. “Anna, it’s a very generous offer. But I’ll have to think about it.”
“What is there to think about?” I ask desperately. How can I leave him here? “Rory, what happens when Mathis gets sick of you? Or thinks of some way to use you like he does Delia?”
The Mothman gives me a small smile. “It’s sweet of you to worry, but I’ll be okay.”
“Or maybe youwon’t,” I disagree hotly. “Rory, whatever you’re punishing yourself for… I can’t imagine it warrants dying here.”
Rory goes eerily still. “Why do you think…?”
“Call it intuition.” All I know is that Rory’s expression looks very similar to Delia’s. I know what she regrets, but what about my winged friend? “So? Will you go?”
“I’ll think about it,” he repeats, and as gut-wrenching as it is, I have to let him make his own decision. It’s only fair.
“Okay,” I agree faintly, managing a wan smile. “But let me know when you decide.”
“Of course, Anna,” Rory agrees, but he’s already slipping back into the trees and out of sight.
* **
Finally, I’ve only got one menagerie resident left to convince of our plan.
I decide that going in guns ablazing is the surest way to make him balk at the suggestion. No, I need to ease him into the idea. Which is how I find myself sitting on a bed of fallen leaves with Chase’s head—human, this time—in my lap.
His eyes are closed as the artificial light dapples over his stubbled cheeks and dark lashes, and I can only stare, transfixed. He’s just sobeautiful,which might not be a word he would be particularly happy to hear ascribed to him. But even in repose, there’s something feral about him, and I feel oddly honored that he lets his guard down just for me. It’s similar to the feeling I had as a kid when I finally convinced a wild bird to eat from my hand—that feeling of beingchosen, of being special in some undefinable way.
As Chase dozes, I slip my fingers through his newly short hair, enjoying the feeling of the soft strands and the sounds of his steady breaths. I haven’t told him about the conversation I overheard between Mathis and Radha Gupta. He deserves to know,needsto know, but telling him, seeing his reaction… It will only drive home how much is at stake if I fail. And while I know he doesn’t need me to protect him—God knows it’s probably the opposite—part of me hoped to just fix all this without ever having to worry him or make him suffer more than he already has. A futile hope, but there all the same.
Finally, I work up the courage to broach the subject. Before I can speak, Chase’s eyes fly open, and he stares intently up at me. I must have tensed, or maybe he could feel my pulse speed up. “What’s wrong?”
