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

“Leave her alone! She’snot like us,” Cane demands, scurrying off into the forest withoutCyrus.

Hearing my forlorn wailingin the vision, I see how Cyrus pities me. Instead of following hisbrother back to their home, he runs closer to my house. Climbingcarefully up the tree, he sits outside my window.Oh, how I loved talking to him! I remember fondly thosedays. That boy truly listened to me. Icould have chatted with him for ages! How strange to know that Cyrus andI become so antagonistic towards one another in the years tocome.

After our conversation, Cyruscarefully scurries down the tree that night, scampering off to hishome as the stars appear in the sky. “Where’ve you been, boy?” Hawkquestions when Cyrus returns to their cave dwelling late thatnight.

“I saw the most beautifulgirl! She was crying at her window—”

Hawk interrupts Cyrus’s explanationwith a laugh. “Oh ho! So, you’ve found a house dweller that youlike! The forest girls aren’t good enough for you? Well, sit downand tell me about this girl, son! I want to know what’s catchingyour eye.”

They talk long into thenight, sitting by the fire at the cave’s edge. Cane stays in theshadows, watching their banter from a distance. Even in the dimnessof the surroundings, anyone could see the hatred building in Cane’scountenance. Cyrus had done nothingwrong! He wasjust being kind to me.

As the weeks and our meetingscontinue, Cane’s beatings on Cyrus become even more frequent andcruel. “I cannot bear to watch this,” I admit, turning away as Canebeats Cyrus until his nose breaks. “Please, no more!”

“You asked for the truth,Iris. This is it. There is one more thing you must see, then it isover. Remember, I did warn you that you might not like what youlearn,” the figure reminds me as the vision changes oncemore.

I see the lastconversation I’d ever have with the child Cyrus. We speak of menialthings: the colors of the fall leaves, our favorite folktales aboutthe gods, the different sounds of the various types of birds livingin the forest. We are innocent in that moment, and I would latercome to cherish our times together. Howdid I never notice the bruises around Cyrus’seyes? How did Inever see the painful grimaces as he climbed the tree, or the wayhe limped away after we’d spoken?How much anguish did he endure just for the crimeof meeting with me? I had been so absorbed in my own problems that I nevernoticed his pain, I condemn myself as Idrink in the sight of the child’s face before me.

“I have to go,” Cyrussighs wistfully as he prepares to leave. “My father will worry ifI’m not home when the sun sets completely. He knows where I am, buthe still expects me home before full dark.”

“I wish…I wish I couldcome with you,” the child version of myself exclaims, touchingCyrus’s hand on my windowsill.

Impulsively, Cyrus leans down andhesitantly kisses my knuckles. When he sits up, there is a blush inhis cheeks, but he does not meet my gaze. “I wish you could too,Child of the Moon.” Then he slips down the tree before I’m able torespond.

“Why did he never tell mewhat he was enduring?” I ask the Carreglas, a sob building in mythroat. “I would have done something! I would have pleaded with myfamily to take him away from his brother. I would have—”

“The past is unchangeable,Iris. This is the cruelest lesson you will learn as a Gwen. It iseasy to see into the future, knowing that it can change at amoment’s notice. It is far more difficult to endure memories. Theycan drive you mad if you allow it.” The Carreglas’s image looks atme in sympathy, her ethereal hand hovering over my shoulder. “Donot dwell on past regrets. Do not imagine all the ways you wouldhave changed his life. Do not even allow yourself to say, ‘if I hadonly said this or done that.’ You must accept that what hashappened cannot be rewritten. Then you must move on.”

The vision shifts as though it isformed in smoke, and I see Cane waiting in the field with murder inhis eyes. “What did she say to you?” Cane demands, shoving Cyrushard against the ground.

“We just talked about theland and what you and I do every day. She is so sad—she’s neverallowed to play in the forest like us.”

“And you cheered her up?Made her think that everything’s all right in this stink hole of aworld, hmm?” Cane sneers as he kicks his brother hard in the ribs.“There is no room for hope in this land, brother. How can I makeyou see that?” Cane backs away from Cyrus, heading toward myhouse.

“What are you going todo?” Cyrus shouts even as he holds his middle. There is blood inhis mouth, and I hear a rattling noise when he breathes.

“I’m going to teach thatgirl a lesson—to help her see what it’s really like out here.” Theidea of Cane, not only this brutal, but also coming after me inhate, turns my heart cold.

“No, please!” Cyruspleads, crawling after his brother in an effort to protect me.Tears pour down my cheeks as he screams. “Do not hurt her! Please,Brother Mine. I’ll do anything. Just leave her alone!”

“Oh, I see!” Cane growls,crouching over his brother’s body. “You like her! I saw you kissher hand! You think that one day she’ll be your girl? LittleBrother, always getting everything he wants. Always dreaming. Youare weak! You are even softer than I realized. No wonder our fatherhates you so much! The girl will too, especially after she has tosurvive on her own out here.” Cane stands on Cyrus’s arm, grindingthe heel of his shoe against his brother’s skin until I am sure thebone will give way. “Do you really think that a girl who’s spenther entire life indoors will be able to survive even a day outhere? Or are you hoping that she will take you into her house? Youthink that you’ll become her little housecat? You’repathetic!”

Cyrus’s face bunches up in disgust ashe struggles to push Cane aside. “You’re wrong! Father doesn’t hateme, and neither does she! You’re wrong abouteverything!”

“We’ll