Page 96 of Bitter Heat
Kerry’s heart hungin his throat. There on the path stood little Tristan, tall for his age, with a rock in his hand, his chubby arm raised to throw it at an innocent bunny near the edge of the forest. Before Kerry could call out to stop him, the rabbit hopped toward Tristan, and from the woods leapt a huge wildcat, hissing and angry. It skidded to a halt in front of Tristan’s small form.
“No!” Tristan ordered in a firm voice, moving to put himself between the cat and the rabbit. “Bad kitty! That bunny isn’t for you!”
Kerry’s heart jolted. Instantly, the world re-ordered itself with a fresh understanding of the situation—a much more horrific understanding. A wildcat, bigger than Tristan by far, stood with its fangs bared and one paw raised as if to bat the stuffing out of Kerry’s small son.
“Tristan,” Kerry whispered, but his voice was only breath. He stood paralyzed in fear. The cat stood too close to his son, who was, Kerry realized with breathtaking force, too precious to lose.
Time hung in a glossy, green-tinged silence, the forest holding its breath, too.
Without warning, a small green and orange bird dove from the upper branches of the tree behind Tristan and flew directly into the face of the cat. The cat reared back, batted at the air, and turned to race into the forest with a snarl. The bird fell to the ground at Tristan’s feet.
“No!” Tristan cried. “Oh, birdie! No!” He fell to his chubby knees, tears starting down his cheeks, and he sobbed. His tiny shoulders shook over the body of the bird.
Kerry raced forward and scooped Tristan up, holding him close to his chest and burying his face in his neck. “Shh, baby,” he murmured. “Shh, Pater has you now. It’s all right. I’ve got you.”
Kerry shook like a leaf, eyes wide and shocked, staring down at Kiwi’s lifeless body. He hadn’t seen his bird or heard his calls since the night he flew out of the house. And yet here he was…
Tristan’s wailing, horrified sobs drew attention up at the house. Janus and Pater came racing down the path, their eyes wide, and Pater limping slightly from an injury to his foot a few months before.
Janus reached them first. He pulled both Kerry and Tristan into his arms, looking around wildly for the source of danger. “What’s happened?” His eyes fell to the bird on the forest floor. He blinked and then said, “Is that…?”
“Yes. It’s Kiwi,” Kerry said, his voice gruff and deeper than usual.
“Didhe…” Janus stared down—fear and horror in his eyes—at the top of Tristan’s sweaty head where the boy pressed it against Kerry’s chest. “Did he kill him?”
“No,” Kerry said, holding his son even tighter. “Kiwi saved Tristan. From a wildcat. Tristan was trying to protect a rabbit from being eaten, and the cat came at him… I froze. Afraid if I moved, the cat would strike. And if I didn’t, then he’ddefinitelystrike because Tristan didn’t understand to hold still.” His voice broke. “And then…” He gestured at the dead bird. “He swooped in out of nowhere. Attacked the cat. Drove him off.”
“Wolf-god,” Janus breathed. “Holy wolf-god.”
“Yes,” Kerry murmured, and then pressed a fervent kiss to his son’s head. His heart still hadn’t stopped pounding, and his throat was tight with panicked tears that wanted to force their way up and out.
“Come inside,” Janus said, turning to where Zeke stood staring in bafflement at the bird on the ground. He took Tristan from Kerry’s arms, kissed his cheeks, and wiped them dry. “We need a box to have a proper burial for our friend, don’t we?”
Tristan shook his head. “Please, Father,” he said in his little voice. “Birds don’t go in the ground. They go into the sky.”
Kerry met Janus’s eye and swallowed hard, his heart aching at the earnestness of his son’s voice.
“You’re right. They do.” Janus looked thoughtful. “Perhaps what this friend needs then is a funeral pyre. The fire will turn him to ashes, and the heat will take him up into the air. How does that sound?”
Tristan’s eyes welled with tears that spilled over again as he looked down at the bird on the ground. “He won’t fly, Father?”
“No, baby. I’m afraid not.”
He nodded, his chin wobbling, as he said as stoically as possible, “Aw’right. The fire and ash can help him then. But not in the earth, Father.” He put his fat fingers on Janus’s cheeks. “Not in the earth, aw’right?”
“I promise.”
Then Zeke reached out for his turn with Tristan and took him by the hand, starting up the path toward the house slowly, cooing soothing sounds at the boy. Kerry collapsed into Janus’s arms. Tears and fear rolled out of him in waves.
“Shh, it’s done now. He’s safe.”
“We have to do something to keep him away from the paths on his own. I was so scared, Janus. I thought…I thought…” Kerry shook in Janus’s arms, his heart hammering. “I love him so much.”
“I know you do.”
“I love him,” Kerry said again. “So much.”
“Mm, I know,” Janus said, hugging him tightly. “Now you know, too, even if it took terrifying you to death to comprehend it. Thank wolf-god for Kiwi. I wonder where he’s been all these years.”
