The Scourge (A.G. Henley) - By A.G. Henley Page 0,25

to be completely still while hunting, trembled at the sight. The youngest woman, in particular, was so beautiful, he knew he had to make her his partner. At midnight the next night, the cassowaries came to the water hole again. The hunter watched as they slipped off their coats of feathers. When the youngest sister swam across the pond, he left the trees, and stole her coat.

“After their swim, the women returned, and the youngest sister realized her coat of feathers was not where she left it. Her sisters tried to help her find it, but they were sleepy and wanted to go back to their nest. ‘Go home,’ the youngest sister told them. ‘When I find my coat, I'll join you.’ Once her sisters were out of sight, the hunter walked up to the girl, holding her coat in his hand. ‘Is this what you're looking for?’ he asked, smiling. ‘Yes,’ the cassowary woman replied, ‘May I have it back?’ The hunter shook his head, and walked away. The girl followed, begging him to give back her feathers. He led her far away, to his home. When they reached it, she fell down in exhaustion. The hunter carried her to bed and covered her in a warm blanket.

“When the young woman woke up days later, the hunter fed her hot soup and tended to her every need. But she asked only for her coat of feathers. ‘It’s lost,’ he said. ‘I can’t find it.’ So the cassowary woman decided to stay with the hunter until she regained her strength and could find her lost feathers. Slowly, the girl’s memories of her life as a cassowary began to fade until, when the hunter eventually asked her to partner with him, she couldn’t think of a reason to refuse him. Within the year she gave birth to a child. For three years, the hunter, the cassowary woman, and their son lived happily together.

“One day, while the young woman was cleaning their home, she discovered a box hidden in a hole in the dirt floor. She pulled the box out of the ground, opened it, and found her coat of cassowary feathers inside. As she stroked the black feathers, the woman remembered she had once been a bird, living free with her sisters. She slipped the coat on and instantly turned into a cassowary again. Flapping her wings with joy, she raced outside as her family was coming back after a day in the forest. ‘Look,’ said the little boy, pointing to the cassowary. ‘What a pretty bird!’ Recognizing the feathers, the hunter shouted, ‘Please, don’t go!’ But it was too late. The cassowary had remembered who she was.” Peree stops. The crickets are silent too, as if they were listening.

“Such a strange story,” I slur, already half asleep.

I dream of flying again. But this time when I take to the air, my head and neck are a brilliant blue, my feathers a glossy black. And nothing impedes my powerful wings as I soar across the sparkling water.

I wake to the sound of birds calling to each other. My head rests on something soft. Suddenly remembering I’m in the trees, I jump up. The walkway creaks and sways under my feet. I throw out my arms in panic, but then Peree’s there.

He grips my arms, steadying me. “Easy, you’re all right.” His voice is husky with sleep, his hands warm against my chilled skin.

“I need to go, I need to get down. Someone might see us.”

“It’s early, no one’s awake yet.”

“Still.” I was so frightened and exhausted last night; I would have gone anywhere the Scourge wasn’t. Now that I’m safe, well-rested—and still human—being in the trees feels very wrong.

His hands stay on my arms. “Was it that bad, then, spending the night with me?”

I laugh nervously, and turn my back to him, finding a rope handrail running above the edge of the walkway. I hold it with both hands to settle myself. Peree stands behind me and places his hands on top of mine. My heart lurches, but I don’t move away.

Instead, I turn my hands over and braid my fingers through his. Scars covering calluses covering scars. I listen for sounds of the flesh-eaters below, but I only hear birds singing in the swaying branches.

“I should go,” I say again.

He leads me down the walkway and helps me loop the rope around myself. I wait for him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t. As he lowers me down, I