CRAVE (2 page)

Ten years earlier.

Crave was on the training field with the other boys his age and a few who were a little older, like his brother. They snuck away to the field after training hours for a pickup game whenever they could. It was fine with their parents. The rigors of extra play made them stronger and kept them out of trouble.

The game was called scruffal. It involved feathercocks and sticks with a loose cradle of net weaving at the ends. It would be hard to say if Crave was good at it because he loved it or if he loved it because he was good at it.

His friend, Rowdy, accidentally pitched the feathercock over the wall that surrounded the training field.

“I can’t fly, numbutt,” Crave laughed. When Rowdy shrugged and started toward the end of the field, Crave, who was closer, said, “Never mind. I’ll get it.”

He jogged through the opening at the south end that faced the village and went around the western wall toward the spot where he thought it was most likely to be. The first thing he spotted wasn’t the feathercock though. It was a girl sitting by herself on the ground, back to the wall, her face buried in her knees that were drawn up, arms hugging her shins.

The feathercock was lying on the ground about twenty feet away from her. When he jogged toward it, she heard him and lifted her surprised face. It was clear she hadn’t expected to be discovered because no one had a reason to be on the other side of the western wall.

He saw that she’d been crying, and it was a good guess that embarrassed her because she quickly hid her face again and gathered her knees in even tighter.

Of course he knew who she was. It wasn’t such a large colony that everyone didn’t know everyone else, and she was the same age. She was even in his class at school, but he’d never spoken to her and she’d never made eye contact with him.

Her name was Dandelion. She had long blonde hair and the distinctive features of the feline dominants. Like him.

He scooped up the feathercock, put it in his net, and launched it back over the wall. It was his intention to run back the way he came and resume the game. He even started in that direction, but something made him stop and look over his shoulder at the little female who was practically curled into a ball.

After kicking a pine cone, disgusted with himself for acting sappy, he went back to where she sat and flopped down so that he was sitting cross-legged in front to her.

She lifted her face just enough for one eye to peek out.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Sitting,” she said.

“You’re not just sitting. You’re sitting and crying.”

“Am not.”

“Liar.”

“Well, I’m not crying
anymore
.”

“Then why are you hiding your face?”

“I can do what I want.”

“Yeah. I know. Why are you hiding your face?”

“Because I was crying.
Before
.”

“Why?”

“Why do you care, Leader’s Son?”

“Don’t call me that.”

She raised her face and looked at him. “Why not? That’s what you are, isn’t it.”

He studied her. While it seemed to be true that she was not crying at the moment, it was evident that she had been crying a lot. Before. Her face was red and her eyes were swollen in an unattractive way, but there was something about her that called to him.

“It’s not what I want to be known for,” he said quietly, studying various twigs and stones on the ground around them.

That made her laugh out loud in a derisive way that he didn’t really care for. “What you want to be known for?” she challenged. “You think you’ll be famous?”

Crave shrugged and looked away. “I’m famous now. You know who I am.”

“That doesn’t prove anything. I know who everybody is.”

His reply was a shrug and a repetition of his original question. “So what are you doing?”

Dandelion fell silent, but Crave didn’t leave. After he’d finished mentally cataloguing the sticks and stones within arm’s reach, he pretended to examine the net weaving at the end of his scruffal stick.

At length she said, “I don’t want to go home.”

When he looked up, she’d turned her face the other way, like she didn’t want to see his reaction.

“Why?”

“My parents are famous.”

“I know.” And he did. Dandelion’s parents were both known for being exceptionally fierce and accomplished warriors. “So why were you crying? Before. Tell me.”

“Why?

“Because I want to know.”

“That’s nosy.”

He shrugged again. “Names like that don’t bother me.” He noticed that her face was gradually becoming less pink and that, when her eyes weren’t so puffy and red rimmed, they were the same striking yellow as his mother’s.

When she opened her mouth to speak, her lips screwed up and tears started to flow again. “They dismissed me from warrior training. I’m not fast enough. Not good enough.”

“Don’t say that.” Crave suddenly felt protective, which he knew was strange. He had an urge to challenge whoever had made Dandelion feel so bad about herself and make them prove that they were ‘good enough’ to judge who should and who shouldn’t be in warrior training. He reached for something to say and finally stumbled upon, “You’re just good at other stuff.”

“Like what?”

She looked genuinely interested and he wished he had an answer ready.

“Well… You’re good at getting me to talk.” She blinked three times, wiped at her eyes and her mouth turned up into a small smile. She was coming to the conclusion that getting Crave to talk was a good talent to have. At approximately the same moment, Crave reached the conclusion that his main purpose in life was to make the little sad girl smile. “I’ll be right back.”

He jumped up and ran around the wall and out of sight, but she knew he’d be back because he’d left his scruffal stick.

Crave ran to the spot where he’d seen a patch of yellow blossoms earlier on the way to the training field. He didn’t know why he’d remembered them because he didn’t usually notice such things, but he was glad he did. He kneeled on the grass and pulled a lone flower away from its leafy green base, then jumped to his feet and jogged back to where he’d left the girl.

Sliding onto his knees in front of her, he said, “Here.” He held the little blossom out toward her. She reached for the flower and took it. “Dandelions are pretty. And hardy. And strong. They make the world nicer.”

Her smile brightened, warming Crave to the core, and the way she looked at him confirmed his conclusion that there was no goal more important than Dandelion’s smile.

CHAPTER THREE

Since Free was at the human hospital with Serene, the Exiled Council of Elders called an emergency meeting to decide what to do about Crave. They needed to find a way to contain him without hurting him, or allowing him to hurt himself, while they tried to determine the extent of the damage and what, if anything, could be done for him.

Dandelion’s initial violent reaction subsided as Crave began to calm, more from exhaustion than anything else. Her parents took responsibility for her after talking to her at length and persuading her that frenzy wouldn’t help anyone, least of all Crave. Eventually she accepted the logic in that and agreed that she wouldn’t interfere with those who were tasked with the challenge of doing the best thing for leader’s son.

Flora had given Crave a natural sedative that had put him to sleep so that he stopped fighting and shredding his vocal cords with roaring. She hadn’t given it to him personally. That had taken several very large Exiled warriors. But she’d provided the liquid they forced down his throat. He spat out as much as he could, which meant it took several attempts. Three-quarters of it ended up on Crave, on his caretakers, or on the ground, but finally he ingested enough of it to quiet and go limp.

Dandelion spent a sleepless night in her room at her parents’ house, but by sunrise, the restlessness of not knowing what was happening was too much for her. She sat on the porch step of the Extant’s house, shawl pulled around her, knowing that the elders were inside making decisions about Crave. Only four were present since the other two, Free and Serene, were at the Farsuitwail hospital, but they met in the Extant’s kitchen, partly out of habit and partly because they knew it was a good place to talk without being overheard.

She looked up to see a bike come gliding to a smooth and silent stop in front of her. Charming looked like he’d aged ten years in the past few hours. He also looked like he hadn’t slept any more than she had.

He shuffled over, sat down on the stoop next to Dandy, and put his arm around her shoulders.

“How is she?” Dandelion asked quietly.

“They set her nose and gave her stitches. There was a lot of swelling by the time she got to the hospital. So they don’t really know about the outcome, but judging from their faces, I think they’re saying the scarring will always look bad. I wish I was as good at detecting lies as…”

When he tried to say the name, Carnal, his breath hitched and the sound died in his throat. Dandy put her arm around his waist and kissed the tear that trailed down his cheek.

“He loved Crave so much,” Charming said. “Thing is, if he’d known how this was going to turn out, he still would have gone. He wanted Crave free that bad.”

“When Crave comes back to us and understands what he did to your mother, he’s going to have a hard time of it.”

Charming removed his arm and looked forward. “Dandelion, I don’t like having to be the one to say this to you, but somebody has to. Crave is gone. You saw him. I don’t know who that is, but it’s not my brother. Or your Promise. We have to face that.”

Her lips parted as she shook her head. “He’s just hurt and, you know, what they say, traumatized.”

Charming looked at her like she was the one who was crazy. “Traumatized? Slicing through his own mother’s face is not traumatized, Dandy. If Crave was still in there, anywhere, he
never
would have done that and you know it. He’s gone, Dandy! Just like Carnal only worse, because his body’s still here.”

“You don’t mean that. You’re upset and…”

“Upset? Yeah. I’m upset. I lost both of my brothers. My mother’s been horribly disfigured and my dad is acting like he wishes he was dead, too.”

Dandy pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them just as she’d done the day she first fell in love with Crave. “I know,” she said so quietly only feline ears could have heard.

When he saw the depth of her misery, he let some of the tension flow out of his body and softened in sympathy. “I’m sorry, Dandy. None of this is your fault. Of course you’re going to defend Crave. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t. He’s lucky that he’s always had you.” Charming gave her a sad smile. “I don’t even remember a time when the two of you weren’t together.”

“I’m not defending him exactly. I just think he can’t be held accountable if he doesn’t know what he was doing. We don’t know what he’s been through. We probably never will. But we know it was really, really bad. Like nightmare bad.”

Charming looked saw the raw sincerity in her eyes and nodded. “Yeah.” He looked away and sighed. “Carnal’s crew is with Crave. They’re in shock, but I guess they feel like it’s a way to honor Carnal, taking care of his brother. It’s all so fucked.” Looking behind him at the door, he said, “I’m going in. They may throw me right out, but if I find out what they’re planning, I’ll come tell you.”

“Thank you.”

He rose, dusted off his pants, stamped his feet at the door and disappeared behind it.