Fowlhunter [GL]

Ennanis gazed back at her for an uncomfortably long moment.

Her eyes were always something of a terror to behold. Nine years of being stared at by these eyes—Jemi, of all people, would know. They were more golden than gold, liquid and molten in the way eyes just shouldn’t have been, even those of an angel’s. In nine years, her gaze had never not burned. Like twin slats of sunlight. Ennanis had a habit of looking at people too intensely. Jemi felt like she was being turned around in rough palms, torn into halves, having her skin peeled back to show her insides.

Feeling her gut squirm, Jemi had to fight not to look away.

“I had my guesses,” Ennanis finally answered.

The wrappers in Jemi’s hands had twisted into a thin wire. She dug her fingers into either end, letting them prick into her skin.

“Then why?” Jemi demanded. “And for how long? If you knew what I was, then why did you agree to work with me back in Wataron? Why have you agreed to work with us all along? What's your motive?”

Ennanis rubbed her chin. “Really? You're asking me? I thought you were the kind of person who wanted others to piece things together for themselves.”

Jemi glowered, dropping the wrappers. “This isn’t funny, Ennanis.”

“I also recall someone saying that I should loosen up,” Ennanis continued, tone airy. “Are you the one with a spear up your butt, now?”

Jemi frowned at having her own words used against her. But, seeing as the angel insisted on being uncooperative, the woman began to give it some thought of her own.

“You took me from the site of battle,” she said. “You travelled to another kingdom without bringing Ying, Asha or Lochlan. You couldn’t have just lost them, since your communication charm with Asha allows you to find her at any time, and she could find you if you allowed it. Instead, you snatched only me, hid me away in some hole, mended my wounds,” she cast a meaningful look at the gold sparking around the angel’s fingers, “and refuse to explain a thing. I’d say you are kidnapping me and using me as leverage against the Beasts.”

“What leverage, Cockatrice?” Ennanis replied calmly. “I thought you and your friends had already defected from the Beasts.”

Jemi stilled. A slip-up—she had failed to consider the cover story that Ying had provided the commander when they had first met, that they were deserters from the Beasts due to disagreements on their use of the Kraken, that they wanted to help Ennanis to find a way to stop it from going out of control and razing the world to the ground. At this point, Jemi wasn’t yet cornered; she could argue that they had never officially deserted, that they were working undercover to stop the Kraken.

But the cover story that had once worked under her human guise no longer meshed once the identity of the Cockatrice was revealed. Ennanis had suspected the Cockatrice of being responsible for the Kraken, and she was right. And the Cockatrice, who had fought eleven tireless years for the lunar army to reach Casca’s summit, would have no reason to genuinely want to find a way to quash their key weapon.

At least, no reason that anyone would believe.

Before Jemi could decide on what to say, Ennanis spoke again.

“I will be honest with you. I have no motive,” the angel confessed. Jemi shot her a disbelieving look, to which Ennanis maintained, “Had I any goals before, right now they are completely dashed. For eight years, I was the Graveyard Commander. On the ninth year, Emperor Prometheus sent me to the undercloud to vanquish an impossible foe, then sent his Wardens after me.”

Ennanis lifted her head to the cerulean sky, where a formation of angels soared overhead. “Now, I am despised by the Knights, while I failed to protect the greybelts on the Fifth Peak. I don’t know what it is I’m trying to do now. I thought to myself: maybe I’ll just go save the world, or die trying. Maybe… I want to do it together with you.”

Ennanis’ eyes were bright with resolve—too bright. Jemi finally could stand it no longer. She looked away.

“You perplex me,” Jemi uttered. “Have I not done everything in my power to make you hate me? I tricked you into releasing me, dooming you to the Graveyard Division. I killed your friend, I killed your mentor, I killed thousands of your comrades. You yourself have tried to kill me for eight years long; I’ve tried to kill you for eight years long.”

Jemi Garen was not used to speaking so honestly. But maybe she was just too tired right now; too tired to hide behind another farce, too tired of trying and guessing and failing. “So why?” she finished.

Water gushed past them, roaring under the bridge.

“I was angry at first,” Ennanis said finally. “But eight years is a long time to be angry. Don’t get me wrong. I still hate you, not just for what you’ve done—but for what you refuse to see. Why do you still do this? You’re the most powerful Beast anyone has ever seen. Who could stand in your way? You’re free. You could go anywhere, do anything you wanted and yet… you choose this path.” Her voice sounded strangely bitter.

“Oh, really? Free?” Jemi threw her head back and laughed, hollow. “Angels like you have never had any family. Any sense of communion. You’re all raised to be tools. Of course you wouldn’t understand.” She climbed to her feet, ignoring the pain that shot down her shoulders and shins. She glared down at the angel.

“The Beasts took me in when I had no one to go to. And I wasn’t supposed to live this long, not with my constitution. When I drank from the moon, it should’ve killed me. I only survived the transformation as more than a Runt, because the immortal Queen gave me a piece of herself.”

Jemi thrust out her hand between them. Laying within her palm was the glass-white geode for locating the Kraken.

No—not just that, Ennanis realised then. All along, this had been Queen Medusa’s left eye… also infamously known as the Death-darting Eye.

Jemi held onto it whenever she wasn’t in Cockatrice form. Now, she slid it back in her cloakpocket.

“If it weren’t for them I wouldn’t be alive at all, Commander. Humans die very easily, you know,” she sneered. “I am all that they raised me to be—so if they have to eat me to survive, it’s only well within their right to.”

“What of the human lives you’ve taken, then?” Ennanis questioned. “All of those innocent families you stole rice from during the famine? The passers-by, the children in the streets who caught fire when you burned down the magistrates of Jadestone?”

“They had something we needed. That, or they wanted something we couldn’t give them,” Jemi replied, her head held high. “We went head-to-head, and they lost. If you want to live in this world you have be to be strong or lucky. It’s their own fault for being neither.”

“You say that, but your heart’s not in it,” Ennanis said, her gaze sure. “You aren’t heartless, Jemi. You feel, when you claim those lives, because the suffering of others eats at you. After all, you are as kind as you are terrible.”

Jemi Garen scoffed.

“Do you think yourself another Amanita? Enlightened, above all other beings? I don’t need your rescuing, Zoleil,” she intoned, “and I hate it when people think they know me better than I do. Now, I’m asking for the last time—”

Like lightning, she whirled on Ennanis, one hand hauling her up by the collar, the other carrying a dagger—digging the blade under the angel’s chin.

A violet storm broiled in her eyes. “Where are my friends? Take me to them!”

Ennanis allowed her chin to be dragged upwards, rivulets of crimson blood staining metal. Her golden gaze was level. “I wouldn’t advise that, princess. They have their claws quite full at the moment.”

Jemi faltered. “What do you mean?”

“Oh. It’s just that, after your stunt above Amethyst Mountain, about half the Beasts are after your hide,” Ennanis answered. “Currently, your friends are the ones keeping them from finding you and skinning you alive.”