Page 60 of Hair, She Bears
“No,” she replied and took another step backward, her heart hammering. She knew Mother did not believe her lie. A black flash caught her attention, and her gaze shifted to the windowsill. She gasped.
Mother’s eyes narrowed, and he spun around, a snarl curling his mouth.
“I should have known.”
Malik cawed once, a taunt, and flapped his wings, hopping along the windowsill. Mother lunged, flinging his body halfway out the window. His thick fingers closed around Malik’s tail feathers, just as Malik took flight.
“I am going to pluck every one of your feathers.” Mother grunted as he struggled to drag Malik back into the tower. “Then I’m going to stuff you a cage and hang you over my bed, so you’re forced to listen to every ounce of pain I inflict upon Zenna.”
“I won’t allow you to hurt her anymore!” Malik twisted mid-air, ripping out his feathers. A horrific squawk echoed across the courtyard. When he sank his beak into Mother’s hand, Mother howled and swung his other arm, his body precariously balanced on the window ledge.
“I win.” Mother’s fist closed around Malik.
“Let him go!” Zenna shouted and darted forward.
She grabbed Mother’s arm, digging her heels into the stones, and yanked with all her strength. Mother jerked his arm free, wobbled, tottering forward, and flapped his hands, unable to regain his balance. His boots lifted from the floor, and he toppled, feet over his head, out the window, his hand clenched around Malik.
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“Malik!” Zenna screamed and flung herself at the window. Her hand stretched for Malik, her fingers brushing over his feathers. Mother flipped over mid-air, yanking Malik away from her, and tumbled toward the stone courtyard. Mother hit the ground with a deafening thud. His arms fell to the side, and his hand opened, releasing his grip on Malik.
Malik rolled out of Mother’s palm and laid beside him, immobile. Blood trickled from Mother’s mouth, dripping down the side of his face, pooled around his shoulder, and slid down a crack in the stone, racing toward the tower.
A small green vine poked up through the cracks, winding around Mother’s legs, and wrapped around his torso, covering his body within seconds. A second thorn-covered vine pushed through the stones, crawling toward Malik’s body, then a third and a fourth, until the ground beneath the tower was surrounded by a thicket of spikes.
“Malik!” Her strained voice carried across the compound. Tears leaked from her eyes. Malik was gone, buried underneath the thick vines.
She sank to the floor, her body shaking with sobs. Malik had sacrificed his life to protect her. He honored his promise. Mother would never hurt her again, except for the all-encompassing grief of Malik’s death.
If she had been stronger or braver… Tears flowed down her cheeks, soaking her apron. Would Moira forgive her? Could she forgive herself?
Wiping her hand across her face, she rose and wobbled to the sofa on numb legs. She removed the curtain from the cushions and returned to the window, dropping to the floor. Shredding the curtain into strips, she laid them in a stack beside her, then fastened each end to the next, creating a long, thin rope. Malik’s face floated into her mind, and a throbbing pain sliced through her heart.
“What the hell?” Jax’s voice drifted into the tower.
Zenna popped up, brushed away the fresh tears, and glanced out the window. Jax stood in the center of the compound, his head swiveling between the burning west tower and the twenty-foot-wide thicket surrounding the south tower. In his hand, the mirror flashed.
“Mother won’t answer you,” Zenna cupped her hands around her mouth, yelling to Jax.
Confusion passing over the man’s face, he marched over to the thorns and glared up at her.
“Where is he?”
“In there.” She gestured at the thicket.
“What happened?” Jax took a step closer and reached out. He poked his finger, hissed, retracted his hand, and sucked on the tip of his finger.
“He fell from the tower,” Zenna replied.
“Why are you up there?”
“It’s better than being in the west tower.” She offered him a smile. His eyes flicked to the fire raging to his right.
“Explosions, escaped prisoners, rapidly-growing thorns—if I didn’t know she was dead, I would suspect…” He shook his head. “It’s impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible, Jax.” Carlyle’s deep voice came from behind the south tower. He appeared, limping along the curve of the briar, and stopped beside Jax.
“Did you set the west tower ablaze?” Jax snarled, his hand dropping to the knife at his waist.
