Chapter Fifty

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Better to treat ignorance as nonchalance than admit you don't know. People pry less that way.

It was the first lesson Rob had learned at Silverfawn. It was also one he was about to break, because as things stood, he knew absolutely nothing about the Hunters and there was far too much at stake for him to worry about his image.

He was at war with a smug bastard who would take any advantage he could get. There was no way August was giving him free information. There had to be a catch somewhere, some sort of bargain he was seeking.

Rob decided to send the consequences to hell and worry about them later.

"The Hunters Three," said Rob, looking warily at August. "No, I can't say I have. Who are they?"

He waited desperately for the answer, making sure to cross his arms for the appropriate look of defiance.

"Oho," said August, leaning back. "You think there's a catch."

"Can you blame me?"

"No," said August, "I suppose I can't. Our reputation for driving bargains precedes us. No, Rob Slade, I'm giving you this information freely. Out of the kindness of my heart. Because I want to."

"It has something to do with you," filled in Jen, still looking very sheepish. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"Exactly!" grinned August, in that rich-brat way he had.

Out of all the uncertainty in his life, Rob had resigned himself to the simple fact that nothing ever happened around him. It didn't matter what he did or how he conducted himself. Apart from the times his curse flared up, and he either scared or hurt everyone around him, nothing of interest ever occurred in his life.

It was like God had punished him for daring to be cursed.

"Answer the question," he said, feeling very tired all of a sudden. "Who are the Hunters Three? What do they do?"

"They hunt," said August simply. "Not to put too fine of a point on it, but they're convinced that their duty is to eliminate all Otherworldly beings, or at least remove them from the mortal sphere."

The Otherworld. It was the world beyond this one, the one that held all the realms of man's imagination. Spirits and demons came from there, too, depending on who you asked.

"But I'm not from the Otherworld," said Rob. "I have a curse. Sorry to disappoint you, but it's not all that much."

"Rob," said Jen, without looking him in the eyes, "the Bestiary curse isn't genetic. It's residual."

"What?"

It was the only thing he could say. He felt like he was on a cart all of a sudden, being pushed away by himself or some past version of himself.

"I understand that you've always used the word 'born,' or had it used on you," said August, "but the chances for a human to actually be born with a curse out of the blue are extremely small. Chances are someone else intervened at the time of your birth, or while you were turning in your mother's womb. Sorry about that."

"The Bestiary curse isn't Otherworldly in origin," said Jen, "but it is magical. To the Hunters, the effects are one and the same. You're a Bestiary. That means you have to be put down."

No. This was wrong. There was no way that this was true. The idea that someone could have put his curse on him was so unfathomable that it felt like a stupid plot twist, one of those surprise endings done to turn the audience's heads just after the credits.

But as he stared at Jen and August, looking for something, anything to hold on to and make it less real, he knew with finality that there was absolutely no coming back from this.

His curse wasn't a curse anymore. It was a wound, an unavenged wrong.

He had to take revenge.

"Who did this?" he said. He sounded very quiet, even to himself, but he knew that was just because if he spoke any louder, his voice would crack and he would change, right there, in full view of everyone. His chest felt like there was bile all the way through it, curdling his lungs.

Jen looked away. August shrugged.

"Beats me," he said. "The more important thing is that the Hunters are after you."

"So what, they're going to kill me?"

His voice really did crack. Something cracked in his heel, too, like his Achilles' had turned to stone and locked his foot right up. It was like a budding molar stuck in his foot.

"I don't know if they're going to kill you," said August. "They might disagree, however."

"This is insane!"

That was a bit louder than he'd meant. He could feel people's eyes on him. A little boy came slightly too close, blinking curiously, before being pulled away by his scowling mother.

"Do we have to talk about this here?" asked Jen. "I mean, it's..."

Rob walked right between them, slotting himself in with folded arms and tight throat. It was the most direct way he knew of expressing himself short of shouting, and from the shocked look on Jen's face, it was clearly working.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know that the Hunters Three were here," said Jen, finally looking him in the eyes. "I mean, I knew who they were, the same way that you know who PETA are. And I knew that they might be here. That they were coming here. But I thought..."

"Not about that," said Rob. "About my curse."

"You really think it's that important," said August.

Rob turned sharply around, but the retort died on his lips when he saw August's expression, and realized that there was no mockery in it. It was just matter-of-fact, like that was the way things were.

"What?" asked August, raising an eyebrow. "I was being serious. I know you don't like me, but give me credit where credit's due."

"You used up your credit a long time ago," said Rob, glaring at his shoes.

"How delightful," said August. "I'd summon a retort, but unfortunately, I think there are more important things to deal with today."

"I didn't tell you because I thought you knew," said Jen. "That's all."

Rob pursed his lips. The throbbing in his heel was growing sharper. What would emerge this time? The wolf? The ibex? The eagle again?

"I don't know," he said. "I don't know anything about anything. Alright? Are you happy?"

Jen looked at him in shock, even though he had hardly raised his voice, and his eyes were still lowered. He knew he had hurt her again.

Well, then it was too late to apologize. Apologies only made things worse, when things were serious.

She would just have to bear it, like him.

"We should go," said August.

"Where?" asked Rob. There were too many things in his mind for him to object. He felt the same way he did when waking up on Monday, only this was Saturday and he was still at work and it was all worse than he had imagined.

August pointed. Rob looked in that direction, saw nothing, and then used his intuition.

"Christine?" 

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