Page 66 of The Gilded Ones

“Yes?”

“I found something inside the cave where the deathshrieks were.”

“Oh, you mean your new pet?” White Hands murmurs.

I glare at Britta, who’s just now arriving. “You already told her?”

Britta’s face flushes with guilt. “I had to, Deka, it’s my duty to protect ye!”

I stand up, furious. “Protect me? I told you not to—”

“Well, it’s not a cat, that’s for certain,” White Hands interrupts, thoughtfully tapping her lips. “Although…it could be mistaken for one, from a distance…” She turns to me. “What do you think it is, precisely?”

I blink, momentarily distracted from my anger. “Some sort of shapeshifter,” I reply. “Mother told me such creatures roamed the South.”

White Hands shrugs. “Far be it from me to question what your mother knew to be true,” she says.

“You think he’s a danger,” I say, my eyes narrowing.

“I think that you need to find out exactly what your pet is before you continue cradling it to your bosom and feeding it your blood.”

I whirl again towards Britta. “You told her that too!”

I’ve been allowing Ixa to take occasional sips of my blood since I brought him from the pond. He seems to like it, so there doesn’t seem to be much harm in doing so. Still, I can’t believe Britta betrayed me like this.

Her mutinous expression tells me she doesn’t see it that way. “I had to!” she hisses. “Ye weren’t acting rationally.”

“I am perfectly rational! I was halfway into the combat state when I found him, and I would have noticed if there was something evil about him! Besides—”

“Here’s what I think,” White Hands interrupts.

When I reluctantly turn to her, she continues: “You do seem to be very perceptive while in the combat state, so I would err on the side of listening to it. If it tells you your pet is safe, then it is safe. For now…”

She nods, making a decision. “I’ll allow you to keep it as I make enquiries. Just make sure to let me know what happens when you feed it more cursed gold. Any reactions or changes may give us a clue as to its origins.”

Britta’s mouth turns down. “I don’t like this,” she sniffs. “I don’t like it at all.”

I shrug, giving her a smug smile. “You asked for the karmoko to speak, and now the karmoko has spoken. Let’s get to our lesson, shall we?”

White Hands is so enamoured with her new idea about creating a martial art for me, she has no time to actually teach us during the lesson. “Have at it with swords, no holds barred,” she instructs when Belcalis and Gazal arrive, then she nestles into her carpet and spends the next hour scribbling notes in her scroll.

I think she’s coming up with the movements I will use to harness my power, but I know better than to ask. I’ve seen her like this before, when she’s in the heat of training, excitement pulsing through her. Battle – the pursuit of it – is what drives her. She’s just like Karmoko Huon in that regard. While Britta, Belcalis, Gazal and I do as she commands, hacking and slashing each other with all our strength, she continues at her scribbling.

Wounds open, blood pours. White Hands notices nothing except the scroll in front of her. The moment the hour is over, she rushes away, eager to plan her new lessons. I’m grateful for her distraction. That means I can spend more time with Ixa.

Ixa, I call, using my thoughts to speak to him. He’s been scurrying after me in cat form all day, so I’m surprised when a small bird with blue feathers, horns and black eyes flies over towards us.

Britta frowns at it. “That’s not—”

Ixa obligingly changes into his feline form.

I walk over to him, awed. “What are you?” I whisper, stroking him.

De…ka, he replies.

“Deka,” Belcalis says, a thoughtful look on her face. “How exactly do you plan to take care of him?”

I turn to her. “Take care of him?” I echo.

---