House of Vultures by Maggie Claire (read my book TXT) 📕

in the night, a flash oflight streaks across the mouth of the cavern. It is bright enoughto rouse me from my fevered dreams. A booming crack of thunderroars through the cave like a hungry beast intent on frighteningits next meal to death. I attempt to turn onto my back, butsomething holds me in place. A rustic, wooden bed frame was hauledinto my makeshift infirmary during my unconsciousness. Now, twobelts are strapped around my wrists, two more around myankles.

“I’m not a prisoner!” Ibellow, my words slurring with my grogginess. A sweet taste burnsin my mouth, no doubt from some herbal drug meant to ease the pain.“Let me outta here!” I thrash hard against the straps, bucking mybody in an effort to loosen the binds.

“You’ll pop all of yourstitches doing that,” Fox chides as he lays a hand on my arm. Hedoes not force me to lie still, but I can feel the tension in hishand, as if he is preparing to restrain me. “I’ll end up having toreclose those wounds. Judging by the amount of swearing you did thefirst time, you found the experience excruciating. Do you reallywant to go through it again?”

“Where’s Wolf? Surely hedoes not approve of this!” I grit my teeth so I don’t try to bitemy way through the belts. Combined with the sweat forming aroundthe binds, the leather feels unnervingly like long tongues tastingmy skin. The thought immediately fashions a hallucination of a packof feral dogs surrounding my bed. My feet twitch as I try to curlinto a ball, making the tongue-like belts cinch tighter.Any second it will be their teeth. My gods, I canalmost hear them snarling and growling as they prepare tobite!

“Mynah?” Fox’s voicesounds far away. A cold hand brushes my forehead, opening myeyelids wider. It feels like the hand of Death, checking my qualitybefore he buys my soul.

“Wolf! Get me out ofhere!” I wail, my teeth chattering in my terror.

“It was his idea to tieyou to the bed, Mynah, for your own protection. You need to liestill. Your back is held together by stitches, and you’re running aterrible fever. I’ve drugged you at least three times during thenight. Wolf’s been carrying cold water from the stream for ourrags. We’ve got to cool you down.”

A wetness around my shoulder bladesmakes me think I’ve already done some damage. I can feel my bloodpooling in the hollow of my back.

Fox notices the dark stainimmediately, cursing at me as he lifts my shirt once more. “I’vegot to close a few of these marks again, Mynah. I’m afraid thefirst attempt depleted my anesthetics completely. You’ll have tobear the next ones wide awake.”

I’ve earned this,I punish myself as I remember cauterizingAntero’s wounds. “Why didn’t you just burn them shut?” I wonderwhile Fox threads his needles. I can hear them clinking againsttheir case as he prepares for the task at hand.

“I wanted to. Wolf did notwant you scarred that badly.” Fox’s fingers skillfully pinch thelong gash between my shoulders. The searing prick of the needle asit bites into my flesh is enough to make stars burst in myeyes.

My fevered dreams take over once more.“They’re attacking! The dogs! Oh, get them off! They are biting me!Please! Someone help!” I waver back and forth between lucidity andhallucination. At times I remember that Fox is trying to stitch upFalcon’s whip wound, and at other times, I see the ravaging dogs inperfect clarity, from their shining yellow eyes to their bloodyteeth and fur.

Then comes the tugging ofmy skin; the strange sensation of thread slicing through each layerreally turns my stomach. I’m being chewedalive! Oh, whenwill this end? I’d rather be dead than feel my body getting tornapart!

It is a blessing when Fox finishes thelast of his reparations, and the hallucinated dogs disappear frommy frenzied mind. The tears that I weep are those of relief thatsomehow, I managed to survive.

“Why did you never tellme?” Wolf whispers from the shadows.

“How long have you beenthere?” I croak through trembling, bloody lips. By the crazed lookin his eyes and the quivering of his outstretched hands, I suspectWolf has been here the entire time.

“I could have taken careof Condor ages ago! I would have wiped them out entirely.” Wolfpaces closer to me, his fingers gripping my left hand. “Do you lovehim? Is that why you never said—”

“This was all Falcon’sdoing. Condor did not hurt—”

“Like hell he didn’t!Mynah….” Wolf’s hold on my hand is so tight that the claws abovehis fingers gouge into the skin above my knuckles.

“You’re hurting me!” Iwail, and Wolf drops his hold on me immediately.

“Do you love him?” Wolfrepeats, his clawed fingers scratching himself as he crosses hisarms tightly.

“Falcon is the onewielding the whip, but Condor never stops it. No, Wolf, I do notlove him. I hate him,” I whisper, clenching my teeth as theremembered crack of the whip fills my ears.

My response is enough to soothe Wolf’sanger marginally, though why he is directing it toward me, I do notunderstand. Another scream pours from my lips as Fox beginscovering his handiwork to keep it clean. Wolf reacts too, loweringa bottle toward my lips. “Drink this, Mynah.”

“What is it?” I ask,smelling the acrid odor of flavored alcohol.

“It will numb the pain,”Wolf entices, sensing my unease.

“It will probably kill mequicker than the infection I’ll be getting on my back,” I snapback, gritting my teeth as Fox bears down on another opengash.

Wolf shoves the bottle up to my lips,forcing the liquid into my mouth. I sputter as the drink scorchesmy throat, searing its way to my stomach. It tastes like rottenstrawberries and paint thinner. Gasping, I can hardly breathe asthe heat of the drink steals the thoughts from my head, and I amunconscious once more.

***

It is the sound of children’s laughterthat wakes me from my slumbers. My body aches as though I’ve beenpummeled by an avalanche of stones. I am now laying on my side, myface pointing toward the mouth of the cave. Strong arms pin me tomy cot, replacing the belts that had been my constraints, and anose is resting on my neck. Though not quite touching, my