“And what do you mean by that?”
His lips become a tight line. It’s rare for him to struggle with honesty, at least with me. But sometimes I forget that before we became brothers, he’d been raised to become a dutiful, obedient soldier.
If his father’s teachings about respecting the crown hadn’t done it, Harland’s training beat most of the free will out of him. For a time. Until our paths crossed, and I taught him that true loyalty meant complete honesty and trust. Caz never has to shirk away from telling me what’s on his mind, or what’s on the mind of those around us.
Sometimes, however, he reverts back to those early years of his training, the ones that molded him into someone mindlessly compliant, spineless, and bland.
“Caz,” I say softly, reaching for his shoulder. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. We might disagree, but we’ll always be brothers.”
The reassurance is enough to snap him out of whatever past memory he’d fallen into.
“Some of us aren’t returning. We might be bringing back more humans than any other envoy, but we’ve lost two of our own. Your father won’t overlook that, and he won’t be pleased.”
“He’s never pleased,” I retort.
But Caz continues, unhindered. “There’s one way we might please him.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“That prisoner,” he says. “Lewis or whatever. He said that there’s more humans nearby. An entire community of them we could collect—"
A ragged sigh billows from my lungs.
He doesn’t stop, mistaking my disagreement for an invitation to attempt to convince me otherwise.
“King Tor needs bodies for the Hunt, right? He overpromised. We know this. He misjudged how many noctis would pay to participate this year and now we don’t have enough humans. They’ve been impossible to find.”
I know where he’s heading with this. I know the point he’s trying to make, and I already have my counter for it. But I fold my arms and try to listen regardless, try to be better than my father.
“We have four humans to bring back. It’s not bad, but it’s nothing that would save the Hunt, let alone our people from civil unrest.” He paces now, the excitement and urgency in his voice unmistakable. “Between the seven of us, I’m sure we could handle it. Lewis could tell us where their weak points are. We could take out their guards, turn them into ghouls to aid in our infiltration—or not that last part. Only if we needed the numbers, which who knows if we do. Most of the large communities have fallen by now, your father saw to that.”
Exactly.
My father did.
My fangs pierce the inside of my lip. He, out of everyone, should know better than to suggest such a thing to me.
After what I witnessed when my own home was ambushed, my people and my mother slaughtered, all so the great King Tor could reclaim his only heir?
I will never lead an invasion on a human town. Especially not for a pompous source of entertainment like the Hunt.
How could Caz ever suggest such a thing? Does he even know me at all?
For all my best intentions, I can listen to my friend no longer.
“No.”
The word is an axe, cleaving his proposition in half.
The expression it leaves on his face makes me wince. It’s the kind of way I look at my father whenever one of my suggestions are silenced before I can even reach my main point. It’s not the way I ever dreamed of making anyone feel, let alone Caz. But hearing mention of the monster of a man who claims the title of my father makes me lose my patience.
“I appreciate the advice,” I say, trying to smooth things over between us. But the damage might already have been done. “It’s out of the question though.”
He doesn’t say a word. His gaze is fixed on the dark ground at our feet like a scolded child.
“We are two days behind schedule already,” I continue. “Our carts might not be as full as we’d hoped, we might’ve lost two of our own, and we might not have solved my father’s problem of having an underfed Hunt, but our team’s efforts have been more than fruitful. We have enough humans to head for Nigh. Besides, it’s a bit senseless to listen to the ramblings of a prisoner. He could be leading us straight into a trap.”
“We can be vigilant,” Caz insists, grasping for a chance to convince me otherwise. “If the humans are planning an ambush, we can plan for that. Just think of it! If we returned with a dozen humans, your father would—”
