Page 95 of Such a Feral Little Lamb
“After…” Mason sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “She wasn’t from here, my mother. She moved when she was pregnant with me. I think she knew already that I’d be different, and she wanted to give me the best chance she could.”
“What do you mean?”
“I told you. Magic, in the earth. She knew it would help me.”
“So she came here.”
“Yes. And she was sick, but she taught me all she knew. And after she died, they were looking for someone to take me, but all I had was our house and her books, and I knew there was no one out there who would claim me anyway, so—”
He reaches out and steadies me when I sway where we’re standing.
“You came here,” I whisper.
“I came here. I knew what I was capable of. Our neighbour’s cat got hit by a car when I was ten. My mother showed me how to raise it again. I thought… I thought it would be the same.”
When the back of his hand nudges mine, I thread our fingers together. Mason swallows hard.
“It wasn’t. You don’t understand until you try it. The power that’s involved in bringing a person back, an adult with all their complexity and complications… It tried to suck me in. It tried to take me in exchange. And that wasn’t what I wanted either. All I wanted was my mother.”
“Did you bring her back?”
He nods. “Her and the entire graveyard. I panicked. I fought. And the power in me, the power in this town I’d spent all my life in… It was enough to keep me here, but the magic trying to pull me in had to go somewhere, and it rebounded. The graves opened. And everyone in the town either carried my curse, or the land protected them.”
“It gave them magic, too.”
“Just a touch. Nothing like what I have. Enough to give them the advantage.”
“They know about all of this?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “The broad strokes, at least. Nia knows all of it. She found me here after…”
“What happened to your mother?”
Mason grimaces and pushes his sleeve up, revealing that tear of a scar on his forearm. “She was already gone when I brought her back. I fought off the power, unleashed the curse, and she tried to tear me to pieces.”
“You destroyed her again?”
Mason’s eyes shine as he nods. He tugs his sleeve down again and then clutches at my hand as though he needs the lifeline.
“What about the rest of the townspeople?”
“I saved as many as I could. The curse was never born of my magic. It’s not tied to me. We killed the zombies we could here, after we begged the government—fuck,everyone—for help, and then we cut ourselves off.”
“Can you stop the others?”
“Not all of them in one fell swoop. If we had a horde here, I could control it or destroy it. I can kill them like you do, as well.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Mason frowns at me. “I thought you’d be angry. I thought you’d leave.”
“Would you have let me?”
I look him full in the face. His eyes widen. I don’t know what has him so surprised. Is he looking at my injuries now? Does he see the quiet resignation at the history he’s just told me?
Has he realised I’m not going to leave him?
I can’t. More importantly, I don’twantto. Standing next to his mother’s empty grave, the epicentre of the thing that destroyed so many lives… He didn’t mean to do it. I know he didn’t. And I can’t even be angry that, given the chance to go back and change things, he wouldn’t, because he couldn’t give up on her, either.
