I slow to let Dain catch up. If anything goes wrong, we need to both be in position to defend one another. Once he’s at my level, we cover the last few feet. Then I’m peering into a nest, and two little harpies are peering back.
“No, princess,” Dain says.
“No what?”
“Don’t say it.”
“Say what?”
He glowers at me, but I only meet his gaze, wide-eyed.
“They’re sooo cute,” he says.
I know he’s mocking me, but I only nod. “They are, and I’m glad you feel comfortable saying so, instead of pretending you fail to recognize the adorableness of baby monsters.”
“I meant that’s what you wanted to say.”
“Because it’s true.” I hold out a strip of sedative-infused meat. “Apparently, even ugly monsters have cute babies.”
“It’s the eyes,” he says. “Babies have oversized eyes, which humans think is cute. It makes us want to take care of them.”
“Look at you with the science. Also, you’re stealing all my lines. First calling them cute and then explaining why they are.”
“I never called them—” He bites off the rest and scowls at a baby harpy watching him. “Fine, they’re kind of cute. But you are not taking one home.”
I watch one baby nibble at the meat as a second makes its way over. They’re like little monkeys with wings, which I guess is what the adults are, too, except the babies don’t have their skeletal heads and beady eyes and creepy long fingers and protruding fangs. They also don’t have the look that says they want to gnaw your face off.
As Dain said, the babies have oversized eyes, which are so much cuter than beady ones. They also have tiny grasping fingers and toes, and little ears that flick as we talk. When they open their mouths to eat, even their miniature needle-teeth are adorable.
There are three fledglings in the nest on my side. One ate the meat and is already yawning. The second is nibbling at the strip, and the third, who was sleeping, is now blinking at me as it peeks from under a downy wing. Adorable.
“No,” Dain says.
“They’re really small. I’m sure one would fit in your—”
“No. There will be no more baby monsters, princess.”
“Says the guy with the baby dropbear.”
“It’s a juvenile. And it isn’t my fault she came back. I tried to get rid of her.” He catches my look and grumbles. “Fine, I tried to set her free. I didn’t actually want to get rid of her, and I’m glad she’s back. Happy?”
“Yes, and even happier that she came back. She’d probably been following us the whole time. She only left because you told her to, which you had to do, but now that she’s back, it’s her choice.”
As the second harpy curls up, tucking its tiny face under one wing, I reach to pet the third. It chomps onto my index finger and clings there, looking at me.
“Not so cute now, is it?” Dain says.
“Actually, yes, it is still terribly cute.”
I lower my face in front of the harpy’s. The little beast blinks and slowly releases me. It licks my finger and then rubs against my hand.
“I choose this one,” I say. “The perfect combination of fierce and cuddly.”
I let Dain sputter while I feed the little harpy. Then, as it drifts off to sleep, I ease over to the middle nest. Those two eat without complaint—they’re hungry, having probably not eaten a proper meal in days. We see no sign of the adults, who are diligently hunting to fill these little bellies. I feel almost bad about that—thinking of them returning to empty nests and missing babies. But they’re obviously attentive parents, who’ll find their young.
As we finish up, one of the villagers lowers a basket over the edge of the cliff. We tuck in three fledglings. He hauls it up, puts them into a cage and we repeat the process twice more, until all eight are safely up.
Our next job is dismantling the nests. For that, we do something else that feels almost as cruel as kidnapping the babies. We push the nests off the ledge onto the rocks below. That’s the most efficient way to destroy them. Then the villagers beat the remains with sticks as we climb down.
By the time we reach the bottom, they have finished and started up the path to the top of the cliff.
“Good work,” Wilmot says.
Kaylein smiles. “You made that look easy.”
“It was easy. They were so hungry they didn’t need me feeding them. They took the meat from Dain’s hand, too. We got lucky.”
Wilmot shakes his head. “Never credit luck on a mission, Rowan. I know you’re nearly as uncomfortable with compliments as this one”—he nods toward Dain—“but if you deflect praise and call it luck, others will echo that and you’ll lose the recognition you deserve. You both came up with a good plan and executed it with care. That’s why it was easy.” He thumps Dain on the back. “Now let’s get up top before the parents return.”
I nod as we head for the path. “Malric, Dain, Kaylein and I will stay with the fledglings, safely away from the village, while you get Alianor, Cedany and Sarika. The faster we can—”
Jacko screams above us. It’s a scream of fear and rage, and I’m already running when Malric roars. Another scream, this one human. I bear down, running as fast as I can, heart pounding so hard I can barely see.
I left Jacko behind. Left him where the harpies could get him.
Even as I think this, I know I didn’t thoughtlessly forget him. I left him with Malric, knowing Jacko would be safer away from the nests. Yet I hadn’t thought of this—what happens if the parents return when the villagers have the fledglings? Before we can get up the cliff?
That cliff
