Indirk opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. She lay flat on her back. Dust floated in sunlight that evaded curtains to one side. She smelled meat being cooked. Her body felt thin and weak, like she was just her bones wearing her meat. Then, gradually, she felt the meat, too, and that brought the pain. She tried not to react to it, cringing quietly as the muscles throughout her body screamed at her. Her left arm was the worst, feeling like it had been nailed to the floor.
A gentle weight moved on her chest, and then her neck, and then Avie’s face appeared above her face. Standing with two feet on Indirk’s chin, Avie stared, and then the little animal nibbled lightly on one eyebrow. Still swallowing her pain, Indirk couldn’t find it in herself to tell Avie to stop. After a few seconds, Avie just lay across Indirk’s face and stayed there, fur soft, belly warm.
Winking one eye open from beneath Avie, Indirk looked to the side and saw shining black fur, a long body sprawled across the floor beside her. Indirk saw a strong arm and bestial shoulder, the downward arc of a spine that led to a curled tail, legs with huge paws. Two reflective, feline eyes staring down at her, bored and a little tired. The cat’s head was larger than Indirk’s own, its body twice the size of a normal anthral. But its presence wasn’t menacing. It had the look of a cat that had just awakened, and all it did was stare at her.
Despite everything, Indirk lifted her left hand with what little strength she had left in it, and reached out to the great cat’s side. The cat quickly stood and paced away before Indirk could touch it, however, and she let her hand fall to the floor. Despite everything else, Indirk managed to feel the slightest pang of disappointment. It was such nice fur.
The cat made a soft, low-pitched rumbling sound. There were footsteps nearby. Large, gray-furred hands grabbed Avie and pulled her off Indirk’s face. Indirk found herself staring up at Mardo, the huge man dressed not in his typical green but in the casual brown leathers of the poor. The man said, “How bad does it hurt?”
“Good morning,” she said, though it hurt to talk.
“Someone attacked you?”
“Kind of.”
“You got caught in that stampede at the Sickle-Sough Festival last night, didn’t you?”
“Huh?” She blinked hard and pressed her hands against the floor, wanting to try to sit up. She did not try very hard, her body’s pain making it very clear that sitting would not come easily. “You know about that already?”
“My feelings should be hurt.” Mardo set Avie down on the floor and paced away, his voice growing more distant. “I invited you to go see Norgash dance, but I guess you went with someone else.”
Once on the floor, Avie immediately crawled back onto Indirk’s face and lay down. Indirk’s voice was slightly muffled by the fur. “You’re lucky you didn’t go. The dance was terrible.”
“I tipped a news crier on the corner this morning to find out what happened. Someone killed the dancer?”
“Yeah.”
“And then the place caught on fire?”
“Yeah.”
“Things would’ve ended worse for everyone if the Writhewives hadn’t shown up.”
“Yeah.” Indirk blew at Avie’s fur, but it didn’t motivate the little animal to move. “Wait, what?”
* * *
As the fire burned above the Sickle-Sough festival and a warehouse went up in flames, revelers stampeding in terror from the inside, they found Writhewives waiting for them as they emerged. It was a strange sight, even to those in Gray Watch who were used to seeing the Writhewives moving about the city, to watch this sudden convergence, these dozens of women in their gray rags and bizarre skull-masks stepping out of alleys and emerging from the crowd to perfectly encircle the burning warehouse. So gathered, the quiet hum of the Writhe’s magic resonated and grew, pushing back the song of the Sough, chasing away the smoke and heat and opening a hole in the fire above.
The panicked crowd felt the air cool around them, a salty chill blowing down out of the night, and their fear began to fade at once. Some slowed and looked up, and would swear later that behind the stars, among the dark of night, they saw a reassuring yellow shimmer. As those fleeing reached the circle of the Writhewives, pale hands caught them and quiet voices whispered reassurances. A murmuring magic flowed out of these careful hands, and people they touched fell asleep. The Writhewives lay the wounded in careful rows, watching over them as the warehouse burned down to cinders.
* * *
Mardo gently sat Indirk up, then stepped away from her again. Now she could watch him moving about in his tiny apartment, so large in the little space that he had to duck a light fixture, sidle past his dining table, and hunch over the stove where he was cooking some of the spiced meats they’d been selling at the festival. Indirk watched this for a moment, then looked down at her bandaged body and said, “You took my clothes.”
“Your clothes were rags. You were pretty much naked when you got here.”
“Lucky you, right?” Indirk quipped through her pain.
Mardo shrugged. “We need to take you to a physician after breakfast. I’m no medic.”
Indirk managed to put a hand over Avie, who lay across her lap. She looked across the room at the huge, perfectly black cat that sat in the corner of Mardo’s kitchen. “When did you get a cat?”
As though in offense, the Cat narrowed its eyes and let out a low, rumbling growl.
Blinking at the thing, Indirk said, “Sorry?”
Mardo laughed. “This isn’t my cat. It’s my Guardian Lion. He’s been traveling.”
“Guardian…” Indirk stared at the cat, met its gaze, and felt an intellect behind it that she didn’t expect. The thing was impatient, annoyed, unhappy with her. She felt like she should be defending herself to it, explaining away her failure to realize something that should’ve been obvious, but it was so obvious, then…
Mardo said, “His name is Hado.” He was staring at Indirk, too, also waiting.
“Hi.” Indirk lifted two fingers from her lap in a weak wave, still thinking hard. “I’m sorry. Hard to think when I’m aching so… wait.” She looked him over once more. “You’re not an anthral?”
“You got it.” Mardo looked at the cat, Hado. “I told you she’d get it.”
“You’re othrizen!”
Mardo went back to cooking. “And now you know my secret.”
“I thought you were just… Wait, since when?”
He laughed. “Is that an actual question?”
“Yes. No? Right, that’s dumb.” Indirk shook her head. “You could lose your job if someone finds out!”
“That’s why it’s a secret, yes.” His shoulder shook with amusement while he stabbed the meat in the pan and turned it over, the sizzle like a little song to conjure breakfast.
