“The Pith? No houseresides there. It is a barren land where not even the hardiestbushes last the season.” But at least now I have an inkling of whathas brought my captive this far into our lands; we are the houseclosest to the Pith. But why anyone would purposely travel there isbeyond my understanding.
“How did you become amember of a major house if you were only seven years old?” Anteroinquires, his brow furrowing in confusion. “If it was as bad as yousay, then why would a house choose a child to join their ranks?What could you possibly have offered them?”
I’ve only enough emotional strength toshare this story once. Now that I’ve opened these wounds, I find Imust complete it in one sitting. Although, by the end of the tale Imay be too broken to breathe. “I realized that my best chance ofsurvival was in one of the established houses. So, I found the barkof a sycamore tree, and its smooth, milky texture reminded me ofthe mynah. I formed my first mask out of that bark with glastum dyearound the eyes. I marched up to the House of Vultures and demandedto be heard. Hawk, the former leader of the House, took one look atme and burst with laughter.”
***
“My-nah.” Hawk drew outeach syllable with a gleaming smile. “And you wish to join ourHouse, little one?”
“I have nowhere else togo.” I tried not to cry. The time I had lived alone had made meskittish of others, and my eyes kept darting to the unknown masksall around me. So many faces, so manystrangers! Istruggled not to appear as terrified as I was.
“There are many out therewho wish to join my House,” Hawk exclaimed, lazily waving a hand atthe crowds behind me. “So why should I pick you?”
My chin jutted out, my hands in fistsso he could not see me shivering. “I am small, young, and fast.I’ve lived out in the grasslands alone for a month, and I am stillalive. I can learn to do anything.”
“Very confident, littleMynah. Some might even say arrogant.” Hawk watches me closely,inspecting my face as he awaits my reply.
“Then they’d be wrong,” Iwhisper, unyielding as I stand before him. I will not be bullied.
Hawk’s laughter roared and nearlyshook the rickety porch of the house behind him, but he caught holdof my arm before I could run. “You are bound to the House ofVultures, little Mynah. You have learned to survive; now I willmake you thrive in this new land. You have my protection, althoughI think you will not need it for long. You will be one of thegreatest, I am sure.”
***
Antero waits expectantly when I pause,unable to continue the tale. After a few breaths, he growsrestless, asking, “What happened to him? You called him your formerleader, so I assume he died.”
“I killed Hawk when I wasthirteen.” My eyes drift closed so the tears forming there cannotbe observed by the boy. Nothing removes Hawk’s friendly, softleather mask from my mind’s eye. I see him every day in littlethings at the House. The way I fletch arrows, the setting of thetraps, the quick, clean skinning of a deer, and the songs Isometimes whistle on the good days, when I am rarely happy with mylife. He haunts my every breath, and I see his fingerprints inevery aspect of my existence.
The fire crackles as Antero fallssilent beside me. His throat bobs and his eyes shift from side toside, as if he is searching for a way to escape this cavern. “Why?Why would you kill someone who had helped you?”
“It was a mercy killing,Antero. I killed him because I could not watch him suffer. I lovedhim like a second father,” I murmur as the images of those terribledays drift back to my conscious mind.
***
Condor had been covertly threateningHawk for months before the end. He’d leave little threatening notestagged to the door, broken bodies of animals left as “gifts” on thesteps. He spread word of unseen attackers near our home, preparingfor a raid on our supplies. It made Hawk so paranoid that he wasunwilling to leave the house alone. Condor and Falcon had beenhappy to “track down information” about these threats, and Hawk hadbeen too grateful for their aid to see through their ruse. We allmissed the signs that Condor and Falcon were plotting a coup untilit was too late.
One day after months of psychologicaltorture, the pair returned to the House and announced that theattackers had been found. “I want to tell you more in the privacyof my room,” Condor exclaimed as he took our relieved leader by thearm, Falcon close behind. “The attackers may have spies in our verywalls, and the fewer the number of people who know what we have tosay, the better.”
I knew something was off by the waythey snuck glances at each other behind Hawk’s back. So, Ifollowed, slipping inside the room as silently as the flight of mynamesake. Condor had very few clothes, so the space that was meantfor a closet was nothing more than an empty cavern, shadowed andsecluded. I slipped into its darkness, hiding and observing thescene unfolding before me.
Falcon made quick work of the burlyman, whacking him unconscious as soon as Condor shut the door.Together, they strapped his body face up on Condor’s rickety bed.Hawk woke up soon after Falcon unleashed the fury of her whip uponhis chest. I listened to his screams as bones snapped, tendonspopped, and teeth were ripped away. “Why are you doing this?” Hawkmoaned through his bloody lips, his eyes gaping up at Condor,pleading for him to intercede.
“You didn’t help me, allthose years ago,” Condor whispered, his hands reaching toward hisown throat. Condor’s back was to me, so I never saw exactly what hedid.
But the way Hawk screamed, eyeswidening as he shouted, “It can’t be!” never left my memory. Hawkwas terrified; something about Condor had frightened him far morethan Falcon ever could with her torturous ways.
When Falcon and Condorleft the room for their dinner meal, I crept up beside my leader.His face was so disfigured by swelling that he
