Paying the Piper

Thirty-One: Paying the Piper

I stared at myself.

My pelt. My form. Me, as a fox.

My other skin had been missing for over ten years, and it should have been crusted and dried, still the size for a six-year-old. It should not have been wearable or useful anymore. But I realized then that I had not lost it.

It had been stolen.

Stolen and used, growing with the wearer as it should have grown with me.

Except it was no longer mine. In fact...it had been his longer than it had been mine. For I had no illusions about who was wearing it. This fox skulking at the edge of light and keeping out of attention had to be Quentin. The fact that Rhia had just shown up...Quentin's ready acceptance of all odd things...and something in the behavior of the fox matched Quentin. No wonder we had instinctively butted heads when we first met. Some part of me must've known, must've sensed it. And maybe he had sensed it as well—that he had taken something irretrievably from me.

It felt like the ultimate betrayal, like a pet you had trained and loved and cherished, but then they abandoned you and chose a new master. Or a home you built and decorated, each item of it uniquely chosen. But then someone else kicked you out and moved in, living among your most intimate, personal property.

I had been missing my skin for years. If I had never lost it...everything would be different. Everything.

I wouldn't have had to give up my memories. I wouldn't have been cavorting in the forest as a human with foxes for adoptive parents. Cale's parents then wouldn't have died. Then Evie wouldn't have died. And who knew how much more would be different with such massive changes?

But it didn't do to dwell on that. I forced myself to draw in air, exhaling through my mouth.

I had to focus on the matter at hand. Consider it part of Dorian's curse, I told myself. It seemed the only way to keep my sanity in these crazy circumstances. The bad luck followed me and ensured negative outcomes would follow me.

I closed my eyes briefly, bidding a silent farewell to my pelt that I had never stopped longing for. But it wouldn't feel right on me anymore, now that it had belonged to Quentin for so long. The wrong size, the wrong habits, the wrong memories built into it...whether for good or ill, it was his now.

So I turned my back on him, not calling his presence out. I let my eyes run over Hannah and Rhia, still sobbing as though her world had broken beyond redemption. Ryland was holding his face even as flesh sloughed off between his fingers, even as the hairs from his head littered the ground around him with the hat he had removed. Who knew what other changes had happened in his body, in his very mind. And Cale, utterly alone and betrayed by me.

Everywhere I looked, there was disappointment and lives ruined. Only I could fix it.

When I raised my eyes, I found Dorian focused on me, his own eyes lit eerily.

"I will make a deal."

Everyone stared at me, the silence in the area becoming deeper and more profound. Rhia's sobbing had grown softer, even as she looked up at me across Hannah's body.

"This is what I want," I began, and then paused. I had to consider my words carefully. If I slipped up and allowed for some kind of quibble in the agreement of the deal, I had no doubt that Dorian would find it and use it against me.

Next to me, Cale had apparently given up on attempting me to see reason. He changed back into his fox form, the fox light casting a warm white glow on everyone in the vicinity. Maybe he'd attack Dorian the instant the latter had my blood and manage to kill him before he roamed free in the world. It was a silly hope to have (here I was, the one opening the gateway to let him out, and I hoped someone else would slaughter him in return), but hope is the one thing that can grow entirely in the dark.