Little Lacey

Ch. 29 - The Voice of the Wished

Lacey wasn’t going to admit it, but she was immensely grateful to not discover what a night without food was like. And maybe that played into her decision to trust the feline. Starvation, it seemed, wasn’t a sensation that came on gradually. It already felt like her stomach was turning inside out.

After another groan from Lacey’s stomach, Arley pulled a flatbread out of her pouch and tore it in two. She held half out for Lacey and stuffed the other in her mouth, whole. 

“Thanks.” Lacey took it and nibbled on a corner, despite her stomach’s demands.

Arley flashed fangs and semi-chewed bits of bread, in what Lacey assumed was a smile.

Lacey took a bigger bite and closed her eyes. Was it possible for a stomach to sigh in relief? She enjoyed every lump of the bland bread, even sucking the last crumbs from her hand and shirt. But she kept staring sideways at the feline. Why was one of Goeden’s gang helping her?

“I get it,” Arley said, after another suspicious look from Lacey. “You are upset I am not Blayd. He made it quite the habit of coming to your rescue, yes?” 

“What? No!” Lacey felt her cheeks go red, and then redder as she realized what the feline said was true. She was disappointed that Blayd—or any of her friends—hadn’t been the one to come after her.

Arley smirked. “Oh boohoo. Get over it. I don’t think any of them even know you’re gone yet. If they did, I’m sure they would all be here. So quit feeling sorry for yourself.”

“Why would they? They don’t need me.” 

“The heck they don’t!” Arley pulled the spitted rabbit off the fire. Glistening bubbles sizzled across the blackened flesh, and Lacey found it hard to concentrate on anything but the impending meal.

Taking the rabbit leg Arley offered her, she sank her teeth into the warm meat. It burned the roof of her mouth, but nothing could stop her from enjoying it, not even the knowledge that she had met several rabbit Wished over the last few weeks. After swallowing a few bites, she finally said, “They have Ezerelle and Goeden to look after them.” 

“Feh! Goeden takes care of nobody but himself. And Ezerelle—maybe she needs someone to take care of her, after all these years. One person can’t take care of the world by themselves without being crushed by all that weight.”

Lacey squinted at Arley, trying to recall the image of the Founders she had seen in the library the day she’d gotten lost in the Wish Wood. “Are you a Founder too?”

Arley laughed again, sucking meat juice off her fingers. “Is that what they are? Is that why you think we don’t need you? Well, Founder or no, those two are just as fallible as the rest of us.”

Lacey didn’t remember the lynx-girl ever laughing in the Wished camp--even when her companions were laughing. 

The rabbit had been reduced to nothing but bones and Arley sat back, cracking a few to suck the marrow. “It was a sad thing, what happened to Niva. Golden-Eyes was far too pleased with himself, afterward.”

Lacey sat forward. “You believe me?”

“I believe that Golden-Eyes is not even clever enough to figure out how to open a jar of pickles—it’s true, I have seen him try.” Arley shook her head and chuckled. “I almost died trying not to laugh. Of course, he would have killed me if I had.”

“So what happened then?”

“With the pickles? Oh. Niva. Luck, I am guessing. Or, I should say, bad luck.”

“Are you going to tell the others? Do something?” Lacey knew the answer already, the Wished were not going to change.

“I could. But I have no proof. And the others are not ready to change, not yet.”

Lacey blinked as her thoughts were echoed exactly. “But you are?”

“I have been for a long time.” Arley sighed, tossing the last of the rabbit bones into the fire.

“So, did you come to join me?” Lacey was excited to have another companion on the Explorer’s Trail. She had always thought the best part of being an explorer was being alone. But here she was eagerly jumping at the chance for even a stranger to join her.

Arley gave her a level look. “Run away? No.”

“I am not running away. I am going to be an explorer, like my father.” Lacey pounded her fist on the ground, in emphasis. Meemu sensed her emotions, as always, and came to snuggle against her hip--now that he had had his fill of rabbit.

“Something you are clearly ready and prepared to be.” 

“I got a fire going!” Lacey protested. “I don’t need all those years of survival training. I would have found food tomorrow and been fine.”

“What about your clothing? It is getting colder out every night. The road is very long I hear.”

Lacey rubbed her hands together, remembering how cold they had been without the fire. She hadn’t thought about winter dress. Mama had always been there with a warm pair of mittens and a scarf whenever she needed them. She sank her face into her hands. “You’re right! I’m not ready. But what am I supposed to do?”

“Come back. Help them. Help us.”

“Me?”

Arley smiled. Her face was kind; Lacey had never noticed it before. “You doubt yourself.”

“I’m just… I’m just Little Lacey. What can I do?” She lifted her face and looked at her hands, they were different now. Her fingernails were thick and dark, turning slowly into claws, along with the rest of the changes that had been happening since she got to the Wished camp.  

“All I know is, the camp has changed since you came to us. And there has been a voice for the things we all feel but won’t say out loud. Your voice.” Arley crawled across the distance between them, and knelt in front of Lacey. “We need that voice.”

“But what if I turn into one of them?” Lacey whispered.