Page 156 of Envious Of Fire
The lion roars at Kyle, pawing at the bars, claws drawn as he snaps his jaws with fury.
But too quickly, the lion loses interest in Kyle, turning back to Kaleb. Only now, Kaleb has climbed high enough to be just out of reach, arms and legs wrapped around a pair of bars as he fights to get even higher, clinging for dear life. The lion is soon under him, circling, licking his wide, magnificent mouth.
Kyle throws the chair aside, rises from the floor to survey the cage with panicked eyes. There doesn’t appear to be a door of any kind. No opening in the bars. No trapdoor.
How did Kaleb or the lion get in?
How can either get out?
The exit must be masked by illusion. Markadian, holding the key to the cage in the form of a trick of the eye.
“Easy, easy!” calls Kaleb down at the lion, shaking, scared. The lion has risen onto his hind legs to swipe at the dangling morsel that is Kaleb. After a few attempts, he sits back to watch, perhaps deciding to wait it out.
And considering how much Kaleb is struggling, there isn’t much of a wait left.
Kyle steps back, shoves through the crowd that’s formed, brings himself face-to-face with Markadian. “Get my brother out of there!” cries Kyle. “Now!”
“Why should I?” asks Markadian with frustrating sweetness as he observes Kyle, delighted. “He is the entertainment. All of my valued guests need entertainment.”
“I’m not asking you again!”
“Or else what? You’ll … hurt me?” Markadian frowns and clicks his tongue. “Hmm, did you not just make a deal with me?Should you hurt me, you and your friends are fair game.”
“Get him out of there!”
“I’d consume you in front of my guests, just like this lion is about to consume your brother. Suck you dry, at last learn what you taste like. Is your word soflimsy, Kyle Amos? Your honor?”
“There’s no fucking honor inthat,” barks Kyle, pointing at the stage. “That is what a coward would do, feeding a human to an animal, an innocent human …”
“You know better than I that not one of us is innocent.”
“Heis!” Kyle grabs Markadian’s jacket, shoves him against a table. People step back, gawking. “Get him out of that cage!”
Markadian all the while maintains an amused smirk. “And how do you propose I do that? There is no door.”
Kyle glances at the stage. The lion is back to standing on his hind legs and swiping his mighty paws as blood drips down from Kaleb’s face—an unintended invitation. It isn’t just the lion that the bloody display entices. Every single person in the room is on edge, creeping closer to the stage, eyes glued to Kaleb unblinkingly.
Except Ashara, who watches Kyle with intrigue.
“By the way, I have learned a few facts about the lion,” says Markadian in Kyle’s face. “Shall I share?”
“Fuck you.”
“While not always a nocturnal predator, the lion takes most advantage of the dark to stalk their prey,” says Markadian. “You know, like our kind does. Also—and this part is rather relevant in this present moment—the lion can easily consume up to 40 kilograms of meat in one sitting. Isn’t that impressive?”
“Shut up,” hisses Kyle.
“Lions have one of the strongest bites among big felines,” he goes on, “around 650 PSI, from what I read, easily capable of ripping through hides and crushing bones. And the roar of a lion? So mighty! It can be heard from 8 kilometers away, whichI find far more impressive than, say, your brother’s screams, which barely reach the hall …”
Ashara continues to stare at Kyle from nearby, her eyes full of curiosity, as if studying him like a research specimen, every reaction, every word. She says nothing herself, a silent spectator to the scene unfolding.
“I can understand why you love lions so much,” Markadian drones on. “They are such simple animals. Strong, deadly, yet simple. Fodder for bored, simple artists with no inspiration.”
In the cage, Kaleb’s leg slips, he yelps in a panic, swings it around the bar again just in time to avoid another swipe from the lion below, still blinking through the blood in his eyes.
“Does it feel strange to call him your little brother?” asks Markadian. “After all, you are nearly half his age in appearance, even if he retains a bit of … sweet naïveté in his eyes.”
Ashara continues to stare, eyes narrowing.
