And so earlier than the Sun the following morning, the tavern was in motion. Teela’s mother didn’t once look her way, which she told herself was for the best.

  Teela was currently scrubbing at a particularly sticky stain on the dark wood of a circular table. Later she’d sweep the floors, and when her work inside the main area of the tavern was done, she’d see to the upkeep of the stables. That’s when she’d ready the horse for travel.

  She needed to act swiftly. Her longing to know more had all of a sudden grown too powerful, her fetters too tight. Nothing else mattered, nothing else could she care about. She had changed.

  A lifetime of imposed ignorance had made her desperately hungry for answers, for the general worldly proficiency that would put her on level ground with the rest of the population. And after years of scrounging around for crumbs of forbidden knowledge and putting up with constant reminders of her helplessness, she’d reached her limit. She wasn’t a child. She had a right to see what everyone else saw, and to form her own judgement of it.

  Now was the time to claim that which wouldn’t be freely given. Teela was not going to waste it.

  Throughout the course of her life she’d been able to piece some basic things together: There were Gods, of course. And through prayer, one might communicate with them. But it was not safe to do so. It wasn’t allowed to talk openly or even to think about a specific God for too long, lest it heard.

  But some, Teela understood, gave themselves to the Gods voluntarily, like the men the Mantis had been aiming for when she’d killed her the previous day. They were called God servants—this from Leroh. Those who refused or, like herself, were not allowed anywhere near religion, were free.

  The irony of it made her scoff under her breath, and Leroh, who’d been cleaning mugs behind the bar a few paces away, raised his head to fix her with a glare. He had not spoken a word to Teela since his conversation with their mother, and she knew why. But it little mattered now. She would grant him his freedom soon enough, and he wouldn’t have to resent her anymore.

  The rest of the morning passed in familiar monotony. Teela even carried out her assigned tasks with an unforeseen, tender feeling: sentimentality. It saddened her a little to know she wouldn’t sweep the smelly old floorboards again, or clean out the ashes and soot from the hearth, so frequently performed a chore that she could have done it with her eyes closed. She’d never again stand in a corner of the dimly lit room and quietly observe the customers as they ate and drank and talked. Many a thing had she learned from the people she’d poured for, and now it was time to leave them behind in her past. It shocked her how that pinched her heart.

  But time wore on sluggishly, exacerbated by the sense of incoming hardship, and so when the moment was right, Teela darted straight for the stables wholly recovered from her odd bout of wistfulness.

  The rudimentary structure was located behind the main building that held the business on the bottom story and the family’s private chambers on the top. It’d been built shortly after Teela’s birth by her father’s own two hands, and she’d always held a particularly strong attachment to the space, partly due to that knowledge, but also because of the creatures she’d tended for there. Travelers of all kinds made stops in her hometown, Pirn, on their journey to the capital city from the large port in the south, and a tavern was often the first establishment they chose to visit. Teela had delighted in caring for their weary horses for as long as she had memory. It’d been her favorite part of any given day, the gentle beasts the only living creatures who’d ever offered her true kindness.

  But her most beloved friend of all, Clover, was the main reason she so preferred to work the tavern stables over any other chore. That’s where she spent time with him, the only being in existence Teela could depend on. The family horse.

  It was a peculiar thing, the purity of an animal’s regard. Teela’s relationship with the creature who could not interpret or express complex thought by leagues trumped in honesty and tenderness any bond she’d formed with another member of her own species. It was a kind of love that required no effort of thought, no sacrifice. A giving and a taking of affection for no more complex a reason than the presence of true fondness.

  Teela walked over to the chestnut gelding’s stall, and again felt a pang of pain in her chest. The smell of horses and wet straw, the low buzzing of flying insects and the sight of her only friend awaiting her approach with an impatient toss of his head sharply reminded her that she would never again feel the welcome of that safe haven. That, too, she would leave behind.

  After feeding and watering him, Teela brushed Clover’s coat for a time, then saw to the things that needed doing. It took a while to muck the stalls and put down new bedding, but she couldn’t find it in herself to neglect her most comforting duties, even with a foot already out the door. As soon as she was finished with that, she surreptitiously saddled and bridled her mount.

  The fact that Clover would be by her side made it all much easier to bear. Teela was not an experienced rider, but her horse was patient and kind. He’d allow her time to adjust and to learn. They’d get through it together as a team.

  A year or two before, Teela had been possessed with the notion that she must acquire the ability to ride on horseback. Her mother and brother had strongly opposed, but with enough persistence she had gotten her way, and Leroh had taken her to the grasslands outside Pirn for a day to teach her, just enough to shut her up. It had been enough.

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  Now—ungraciously, and perhaps unsafely—she could ride.

  Well before the time of day when customers generally started to show up, Teela left. Mother would not leave the cooking unattended with all the day’s preparations ahead, and Leroh would be busy dealing with all manner of tasks, especially as Teela wouldn’t be there to pick up her share of the slack. They would both have to assume she still worked at the stables, so it would be a good while before anyone went looking for her.

  Leading Clover by the reins, she walked down the narrow dirt street to the area of the town she felt a magical, bone-deep pull toward.

  The Mantis had probably stayed overnight at the small inn located in that direction, the Sparrow’s Nest. The woman’s annoyance and impatience were a steady beat inside of Teela, almost as if they originated within herself, but she knew it was not so. Emotions were radiating off of the Mantis and reaching Teela almost like a shout, impossible to miss or ignore. Unmistakably not hers, and in equal measure personal. It was a most unusual thing, but Teela didn’t question it. Magic was at work, wonderful, mysterious, and strong.

  The closer she got to the woman, the clearer the feeling grew. When she’d felt it the day before, it had confused and exhilarated her. But then the initial heat of shock had cooled, and Teela had been flooded by pure restlessness. A connection had formed, a form of irresistible attraction—-impossible to ignore.

  Teela wondered at the word ‘destiny’ as she neared the inn.

  The Mantis was pulling out of the stables astride a beautiful black stallion, and when Teela came into her view, her head snapped violently in her direction. Confusion. Irritation. Fear. It was like a gust of wind blowing a scent in Teela’s face, the stranger’s feelings as recognizable to her as her own.

  She walked over, the horse’s reins fisted in a sweaty hand. “Good morning,” she said, venturing a tentative smile.

  “What do you want?”

  “I’m coming with you, wherever you’re going. I’d like to learn from you. Perhaps offer myself to your God, if she’ll have me.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll follow you.”

  The Mantis’s hood covered the upper half of her face as it had when they’d first met, but Teela thought it polite to pretend to look into her eyes anyway.

  “I kill people.” The woman declared, and her hand shot up to pluck the fabric back from her face, revealing the breathtaking appearance underneath. Her reddish eyes held no kindness. It might have been a frightening sight, in different circumstances, but Teela let the beat of her heart ground her and held steadfast in her friendly approach.

  “I understand. It is your duty to your God.”

  “I kill people, and eat them. Would you like to be killed and eaten?”

  Teela’s feet moved of their own accord, took her one step back. Her mouth popped open and produced a short gasp. That piece of information her brother had not shared.

  “Teela!” His furious voice startled her.

  She turned around, more terrified with every breath. Leroh was storming up the dusty path of the street in her direction, a dark green apron still wrapped around his waist and his eyes so full of hatred he almost resembled their mother.

  “You rutting, selfish bitch! What are you doing!”

  “I’m leaving. I cannot stay here.”

  He caught up with her and grabbed her by the arm. Teela wrenched it painfully away, arranged her body into a more stable position, planting her feet on the ground and gazing up defiantly at him, ready to dodge a blow or avoid a clawing hand. “I don’t care what you say. Or Mother. I don’t belong here, and I’m leaving.”

  “You will come home this instant. Mother’ll kill us both if she finds out what you tried to do. Now, Teela.” He spun around and motioned with his head to follow. “Hurry up!”

  Teela stayed where she was.

  “I’ve never used force with you, you wretched bitch, but I swear—I swear to you, I’m so close to knocking the teeth from your mouth. Get back to the fucking house!”

  She averted her eyes from his frightening glower and, with her heart pounding wildly inside the confines of her ribcage, Teela dared to provoke him further. She raised a foot to Clover’s stirrup.

  Before she could mount his back, however, her brother’s strong hands gripped her waist and thrust her hard atop his sharp shoulder. He’d carry her like an infant, kicking and screaming, back in the direction she’d come from. In front of everyone. Blood rushed to Teela’s face and ears, a cry of frustration bursting from her throat.

  “Get your hands off the girl.”

  Leroh paused.

  He’d been in the process of removing Teela from the scene, pointing her upper half toward the Mantis astride her horse, so she had a clear view of the murderous rage on her face. Unmistakably dangerous ire, yet Teela felt it much deeper than that through their odd bond. It was an all-consuming, cold emotion that evoked in her an unusual urge to flee, to hide and cower. It was a terrible thing, a viciousness nearly unfathomable.

  The Mantis was perfectly still. Head tilted forward, wide-pupiled eyes affixed to Teela’s brother like they had been in the tavern to the uniformed man. The daunting memory of what she’d witnessed then came to Teela’s mind and a frozen shiver racked her spine. She’d kissed her prey, killed him, and then raised her mouth up to his eye once he lay dead on the ground. The rhythmic movement of her throat and the subsequent swallowing sounds weighed with new meaning now.

  Leroh turned to face the Mantis. After a moment of clumsy, sluggish terror, he wobbly put Teela down. She stepped away from him and backed toward her horse.

  Nobody said anything for a time. Her brother’s jaw was slack. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead and upper lip. The Mantis remained still, but her anger ebbed significantly.

  A number of spectators were now gathered at a safe distance to observe the travesty that was Teela’s attempt to escape, and she realized they were all waiting for her in a way. She had to make a decision.

  Don’t think about it.

  “I’m going with her.”