Part Seven
When Scotch first reached the village, his right arm wrapped tightly around Yared’s moaning form, he just thought everybody had gone to bed early.
There was no sound from the first four houses. There were no lights on. No laughter came through the open windows, and no laugh tracks murmured from inside.
And then Scotch saw Thursy’s house.
Every light was on. The front door was flung wide open, and Jinchae and Alber were standing on the porch with Kimber, who was sobbing hysterically. Dark figures moved around behind the living room curtains.
Scotch remembered the spilled glass of milk he had seen on Thursy’s desk and his heart skipped two beats. Yared was panting beside him.
There were only thirty-five people in the village, and it seemed that they were all at Thursy’s that night. Jinchae saw Scotch and he cut through the courtyard and ran forward.
He was reed-thin and clumsy, but he was a nice man. "What’s wrong?" Scotch asked him.
Jinchae shook his head. Tears sloshed out of his eyes at the motion and ran down his cheeks. "Something horrible has happened. Is Yared…"
"I don’t know. I found him out in the woods, he had fallen down a ravine and broken his ribcage. I think he's all right, but he keeps moaning. Jin, what happened here? Is Thursy okay?"
He nodded and bit his lip. "Thursy’s fine," he said in a softer voice. "Look, Scotch, there’s no good way to say this. Thursy killed Kiria."
Yared released a howl. All the strength went out of Scotch and his knees buckled. He and Yared collapsed to the courtyard grass side by side, and Yared curled into a ball.
When he had seen the lights on at Thursy’s he had been horrified. Something might have happened to her. And even though he wasn’t sure he could keep on breathing if she was dead, those few seconds while he waited for the specifics had given him a head-start on reaction.
But Kiria?
The idea that Kiria was dead hit him before he had time to process the words.
No wonder Kimber was sobbing—she had lost her only daughter.
Scotch reached for Yared’s hand. Yared was clenching it in a fist, but Scotch grabbed it and held on anyway. He had to hold onto something.
Jinchae was still speaking. His words were indecipherable, the way Coalise’s had been when Scotch first met her and was terrified of her humanness. Scotch stared at him blankly and finally asked, "Thursy?"
"She’s in the house. She says she doesn’t remember anything, but…" He shook his head miserably. "Her bitemarks are all over Kiria’s body, and the house is torn apart."
Kiria’s body. Scotch winced.
"I want to see her."
Jinchae hesitated. "You can see Thursy, all right? But not Kiria."
He hadn’t been talking about Kiria. When Kiria’s body was just a smooth, elegant skeleton, he still didn’t think he would be able to look at it.
Jinchae led him into the house, past Kimber, who looked like she was going to collapse, and Kiria’s father, who was huddled inside the front door, shaking. Scotch could smell the blood as soon as he walked in, it was fresh and still sweet.
The living room was a disaster. It had been painted with Kiria’s body. Smears of blood ran over the furniture and ribbons of flesh hung down from the ceiling fan, spinning in a slow circle. Everything had been knocked over, from the magazine rack to the end table. Plants had been spilled and knick-knacks smashed.
There were a number of heaps covered with flannel bed sheets. Scotch thought that if he put them all together, they might resemble Kiria. The whole pack was there, holding each other or staring at Kiria's dismembered body. Preza and Galdwyn were standing in the kitchen hovering over a piece of paper.
Jinchae tried to steer him quickly away, but his father caught sight of him and rushed over. "Scotch," Ramble said, with obvious relief. "Thank Bast you’re safe."
Scotch couldn’t reply. The smell was making him sick.
Ramble hugged him quickly, and then Gedmark appeared. Scotch was relieved to see her and at the same time disappointed. He had unconsciously been hoping that his parents could put the world back into one piece, and now he found that they were as weak and shocked as he was.
"Where’s Mom?" Scotch managed to croak.
"Washing her face," Gedmark told him. Her anger was over-ruled by her relief to see him. "She's worried sick about you. Where have you been? I went to wake you up and you weren’t there."
"Yeah, I uh…" He couldn’t think. "I was in the woods. Yared was hurt and I had to bring him back."
Gedmark’s frown deepened, but Ramble was barely listening to his son’s story and said, "Good, we need you here to talk to Thursy."
He nodded and Ramble went on, "She’s in her room," and he led Scotch as if he had never been there before. "She says she doesn’t remember anything, but maybe you can get the truth out of her."
Scotch stopped dead in his tracks and realized fully for the first time what was happening. Everyone believed that Thursy had killed Kiria. They truly believed that she had.
Scotch didn’t believe it for an instant.
He looked at Gedmark. Her eyes were dark; she knew what he was thinking. She shook her head helplessly, and touched his shoulder to push him into Thursy’s bedroom.
Thursy was sitting on her futon cushion shuddering. Her knees were drawn up and she had wrapped her arms around them, and she was rocking back and forth frantically. A bruise the color of storm clouds had risen on her left temple, swelling her eye shut. Four scratches ran down the other side of her face, all the way down her neck and vanishing under the collar of her sweater, which was matted with blood.
Talisen and Nieka were standing next to the window. They were staring at her as if slightly afraid.
Scotch felt a wave of anger rush over him – how dare they treat Thursy like a criminal when she was hurting and terrified – and forced it away. They weren’t important. Thursy was.
He sat down next to her and slowly put his hand on her knee. She knocked it off, and again when he replaced it. When he tried a third time, she shouted, "Get away from me!"
He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and the other around her knees. She screamed and tried to slap him, and when she found her hands pinned she tried to bite him, but he held her tight and hard and said, "Thursy, it’s me. Open your eyes."
He didn’t know when she began listening, but she finally broke down in sobs. "I don’t know what happened," she told him. "I have no idea what happened."
He kissed her tangled auburn hair, and her bruised and bloodied cheeks. She shivered and shook against him as the tears began washing the gore off her face.
"I’ve got you," Scotch told her. "It’s all right."
"Where’s Yared?" she whispered.
"He’s outside."
"I didn’t…"
"No, no, of course not. You didn’t do anything."
She lifted her head suddenly, eyes blazing a wicked green. "I can’t remember what happened, Scotch. I can’t remember anything since breakfast. It’s just all a blank, like it never happened, and they won’t believe me."
She was completely hysterical. Scotch hushed her and forced her to lay quietly against him. He wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and wondered why no one had cleaned her up.
"You believe me, don’t you?"
"Yes," he promised her. "I believe you. I do, Thursy."
It was just then that the yelling began in the basement.