door
and had his hand out to help her. “You seemed sort of far
away?”
She didn’t answer. She released her strap with little difficulty and jumped lightly down, avoiding Walker’s offered
hand. She looked away from him, but could still feel his
interest, centered on her. She took in a deep breath. Padraig
had looked at her like that too, at the start of it all, and she
had hated it. Hated it! But this didn’t feel like that. This felt
like—like Robert.
The thought hit her with a shock. It had been so many
years since she had thought of Robert. Robert, her lover;
Robert, Bronagh’s father.
No. She would not think of Robert. He was no longer
important. The past was not important. Also, this Walker
was not important. Boys liking girls, and girls liking boys,
just because of what they looked like, or felt like as you
walked beside them, or—she inhaled—because of what
they smelled like, that was not important.
Another moment and Walker had given her back the cat
carrier. Again Fenella was careful not to touch his hand.
Inside the carrier, Ryland was looking tense. She listened
to him as she followed Walker into the building. Let’s get out
of here quickly. We need to focus on the first task.
Fenella said, “Now, Ryland. Be a good, obedient kitty for
Walker and do what he says.”
Walker laughed. “Hey, I don’t know if he’ll listen. I’m
thinking your Ryland might be trouble. No offense.”
“Oh, he’ll be good,” said Fenella. “Gentle as a lamb. And
obedient. Right, kitty? That’s an order.”
Walker held open the animal hospital’s front door for
Fenella. “Fenella? You probably want him neutered, if he’s
not already. Right? I can’t do it, I’m not qualified for that yet,
but I could schedule it for you.”
Ryland issued a screech so loud and so ugly that three
people in the veterinary hospital’s waiting area startled.
Fenella hesitated. Neutered? Could that possibly mean
what she thought it meant?
Don’t do it!
Fenella said to Walker, “Tell me what that would involve.”
Chapter 9
Neutering was exactly what Fenella thought. She told
Walker she would think about it. She didn’t look at Ryland
in his carrier as she said this, and while he refrained from
screaming at her again inside her head, nonetheless she
could feel his rage and fear. It felt a bit heady having this
kind of power—and over the brother of the Queen of Faerie
too.
She found herself wondering about his sister. Why had
the queen transformed and banished her brother, delegating him to help Fenella? Was it a trap of some kind?
Walker had taken Fenella and the cat into a small room.
“I need to check in with my boss,” he said. “Wait here for
five or ten minutes?”
Fenella nodded and gave Walker a bright smile. Walker
left, although at the last moment he gave Fenella another
half-shy, half-bold backward glance that brought a flush to
her cheeks.
When the door closed behind Walker, Fenella stooped
to peer into the cat carrier. Walker had placed it on top of
a counter that reminded Fenella of the uncannily smooth
surfaces in the Markowitzes’ kitchen. The cat’s white fur was
on end and his tail was low.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “If you were Padraig, I’d do it, but
you’re not. I’m curious, though. Would this neutering affect
you in your real form?”
No, said the cat, with dignity. But I am not interested in
having the experience.
“I understand.”
Fenella caught herself wondering about Ryland’s sex
life. All talk—at least among the tree fey—about the
queen’s brother was centered on his purported resentment
of his sister, his desire for power, and his cleverness. She
tried to think whether there were any other manticores at
present in Faerie. She didn’t know. She knew the form was
exceedingly rare. Perhaps he thought himself above others
because of it? Or perhaps, like the tree fey, his form of
sexuality was impersonal? But no, he was a mammal.
and had his hand out to help her. “You seemed sort of far
away?”
She didn’t answer. She released her strap with little difficulty and jumped lightly down, avoiding Walker’s offered
hand. She looked away from him, but could still feel his
interest, centered on her. She took in a deep breath. Padraig
had looked at her like that too, at the start of it all, and she
had hated it. Hated it! But this didn’t feel like that. This felt
like—like Robert.
The thought hit her with a shock. It had been so many
years since she had thought of Robert. Robert, her lover;
Robert, Bronagh’s father.
No. She would not think of Robert. He was no longer
important. The past was not important. Also, this Walker
was not important. Boys liking girls, and girls liking boys,
just because of what they looked like, or felt like as you
walked beside them, or—she inhaled—because of what
they smelled like, that was not important.
Another moment and Walker had given her back the cat
carrier. Again Fenella was careful not to touch his hand.
Inside the carrier, Ryland was looking tense. She listened
to him as she followed Walker into the building. Let’s get out
of here quickly. We need to focus on the first task.
Fenella said, “Now, Ryland. Be a good, obedient kitty for
Walker and do what he says.”
Walker laughed. “Hey, I don’t know if he’ll listen. I’m
thinking your Ryland might be trouble. No offense.”
“Oh, he’ll be good,” said Fenella. “Gentle as a lamb. And
obedient. Right, kitty? That’s an order.”
Walker held open the animal hospital’s front door for
Fenella. “Fenella? You probably want him neutered, if he’s
not already. Right? I can’t do it, I’m not qualified for that yet,
but I could schedule it for you.”
Ryland issued a screech so loud and so ugly that three
people in the veterinary hospital’s waiting area startled.
Fenella hesitated. Neutered? Could that possibly mean
what she thought it meant?
Don’t do it!
Fenella said to Walker, “Tell me what that would involve.”
Chapter 9
Neutering was exactly what Fenella thought. She told
Walker she would think about it. She didn’t look at Ryland
in his carrier as she said this, and while he refrained from
screaming at her again inside her head, nonetheless she
could feel his rage and fear. It felt a bit heady having this
kind of power—and over the brother of the Queen of Faerie
too.
She found herself wondering about his sister. Why had
the queen transformed and banished her brother, delegating him to help Fenella? Was it a trap of some kind?
Walker had taken Fenella and the cat into a small room.
“I need to check in with my boss,” he said. “Wait here for
five or ten minutes?”
Fenella nodded and gave Walker a bright smile. Walker
left, although at the last moment he gave Fenella another
half-shy, half-bold backward glance that brought a flush to
her cheeks.
When the door closed behind Walker, Fenella stooped
to peer into the cat carrier. Walker had placed it on top of
a counter that reminded Fenella of the uncannily smooth
surfaces in the Markowitzes’ kitchen. The cat’s white fur was
on end and his tail was low.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “If you were Padraig, I’d do it, but
you’re not. I’m curious, though. Would this neutering affect
you in your real form?”
No, said the cat, with dignity. But I am not interested in
having the experience.
“I understand.”
Fenella caught herself wondering about Ryland’s sex
life. All talk—at least among the tree fey—about the
queen’s brother was centered on his purported resentment
of his sister, his desire for power, and his cleverness. She
tried to think whether there were any other manticores at
present in Faerie. She didn’t know. She knew the form was
exceedingly rare. Perhaps he thought himself above others
because of it? Or perhaps, like the tree fey, his form of
sexuality was impersonal? But no, he was a mammal.
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