Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

GAHRYE

Gahrye sat on a rock alongside the river as Suhle crouched on the bank scrubbing what appeared to be most of her wardrobe and some items for a large male as well. Most likely Lerrin's.

When Gahrye finally found her there, he'd wanted to ask what had happened that she needed to clean everything—and on a gray day like today. But she already seemed tense before he arrived, so he'd decided not to pry.

They spoke of the things they'd scented the day before and how they might discern it more easily, and she seemed to relax until, as she spread another shirt over the nearby bushes, he decided to broach the real reason he'd come looking for her.

"I have a question to ask you, Suhle."

She paused in stretching the fabric out over the leaves of the bush to glance at him. "I cannot take further responsibility now," she said quietly.

Gahrye shook his head. "It isn't a task that I want to ask you to do. Not exactly. I think… I think I should tell you more of what I know about what's happening among those Anima who carry that scent, Suhle. I have some responsibilities of my own to fulfill soon and… should something happen to me, I think it's important for others to know. You're the only other one I've found yet. So, can I please tell you?"

Her face went tight and shuttered. "I am not—"

"It is information only, Suhle. Please. In the event that something happens to me, you would only need to pass it on to anyone else that might have a similar purpose."

She took a deep breath. "Very well, you may share it with me. But please… find others as well, Gahrye."

"I plan to," he said simply. "That is my purpose. Okay, so, I told you that I had caught that scent on one other person before?"

"Yes."

"Well, yesterday when we spoke I was being cautious. I explained to you the evil that inhabits the traverse."

"Yes." She turned back to the basket of dirty clothing and began to sort through, deciding what should be the next item to wash.

"The thing I need you to understand is that those voices… the evil within that place… it is not only an affect. An Anima who listens to them doesn't merely step out of the traverse with their mind twisted. They are… accompanied."

She had just crouched next to the water and plunged another shirt into it, but she froze, listening.

Gahrye swallowed, praying she had both the courage to hear this, and the strength to keep it to herself. "The Anima that listen to the voices and give in to their temptations—or their threats—they leave the traverse with something else within them. Infected by it—not just as if they are sick, though they are. But… the man I spoke to described it as hearing them and, at times, being controlled by them. They had become a part of him, or at least they had access to whatever it is that makes us human. His behavior changed when he was under the influence of these things—and yet, they could also speak with him, give him information. And at times… at times it seemed they did not affect him at all. Whether they were merely quiet, or not within him at those times, I do not know."

She turned to meet his eyes, her laundry forgotten. "You speak of a… a supernatural connection, between us and these things?"

Gahrye nodded. "I thought, because they are so deceitful, and so merciless, there was no way to identify those who were under their influence until they were caught in the act of evil. But yesterday has shown me—we do have ways to find them. But we also have to have caution. If they learn that we've come to know of their presence—"

"Wait, please. You said they… infect the person that gives in to them?"

"Yes."

"Does that mean they can then infect others through that person?"

"I… I believe so. But I can't be certain."

"It must be so," she said, her eyes dropping as she looked within. "It has to be."

"How are you so certain?"

Suhle straightened, the wet shirt in her hand, and turned to stare at him. "The wolves that I saw acting in those ways… that scent upon them… they had not all bee into this traverse. I'm almost certain of it. I'm sure most weren't even aware of its existence."

Gahrye swallowed. Even though he'd suspected that the reason the voices fought so hard to be attached to someone was because they could then be free to hurt others, to have confirmation would be… unsettling. "Is there a way to be certain? Can you discreetly ask anyone who might know?"

She turned, instinctively looking back towards Lerrin, he was sure.

"Would he know?" Gahrye asked.

"I can't be sure… but I can ask."

She turned back and they stared at each other for a long breath. Then Gahrye sighed. "If you could, I would appreciate it. But I suspect we already know the answer."

Suhle nodded, her face tight and concerned. "This is the darkness that infected the wolves," she murmured.

"I don't know… I just know that the person I met who had been attached was frightening and ugly, and I wouldn't want anyone I loved close to him."

"How do we guard against them?" she asked faintly.

Gahrye took a deep breath. "Your blood is a weapon."

Her eyes snapped back to his face. "My… blood?"

Gahrye looked around, scenting the wind to ensure there was no one who had come close enough to overhear them, then he held her gaze again. "If you ever have need to cross the traverse, or know another disformed who does, know this: Wash yourself clean of any fresh blood. Then, as you prepare to enter, cut your skin. Your blood will not only open the portal, but close it to anyone who might try to follow you. And it will keep the voices at bay. You will still need to be resolved in yourself—certain of your path, and unwilling to turn from it. But as long as you are, they cannot touch you, or anyone you touch. If you take another through, keep contact with them at all times. You are a Protector, Suhle. And no one else can know of this unless you are certain they also have the gift."