Page 3 of Lethal King

So, instead of focusing on that horror, I force myself to concentrate on the black cat huddled in my arms.

I think about how strong she is, how loyal, how independent. I remember how I first found her, an emaciated kitten slinking along the back walls of my village, looking a lot like I feel now.

I recall how badly I wanted to take her in.

Mom wouldn’t have it.

Black cats are bad luck, after all.

As if my luck couldn’t get any worse.

Wiping at my tears, I remember how I would sneak out pieces of freshly caught fish to where I had last seen the tiny kitten, around the ancestral weeping willow that borders our village.

At first, finding the black spot among the tall grass was impossible—until I decided on a name and called it out.

Willow.

That’s when she appeared. That’s when I fed her. That’s when I decided it didn’t matter what mom said. This was my cat, and I was going to protect her.

Mom…

I hold Willow extra tight and remember how I grew with the kitten. Those are happy memories. The only ones I have left.

I do my best to focus on how my scraps of extra fish helped Willow grow from a scrawny kitten to an elegant cat. How, after only a few months, she didn’t even need my scraps anymore. Instead, she started bringing me the leftovers of what she’d caught the night before.

Mice. Snakes. All types of pests.

I’d been so proud, and so hurt.

She didn’t need me anymore.

Wiping back a tear, I do my best not to linger on the bad thoughts. I can’t. Not at a time like this. It might kill me.

Willow grew into a strong young woman.

So can I.

It doesn’t matter that I’m only eleven. That I’m up against unspeakable evil. That I’ve been taken from my home and locked away. That I’m surrounded by the monsters who stole me from my parents and burned down my village. That I have no one left but a black cat who should be anywhere but here.

If Willow can take care of herself, then so can I.

I only need some help—just a tiny bit. Someone to bring me scraps of freshly caught fish so I don’t starve to death before I get a chance to rescue myself.

But who will do that for me? There’s no one left…

My eyes snap open when I hear approaching footsteps.

Immediately, I’m back on my feet, desperately darting around the room, searching for a spot to stash Willow. But the cat is way ahead of me. Without making a sound, she squirms from my arms and drops to the floor.

“Hide!” I beg, careful not to say her name. If I did, she would only come running back to me. And I’m the last person any living thing should want to be near right now.

Obeying my order, Willow quickly disappears under the stained mattress.

My relief for her safety is quickly replaced by concern for my own well-being.

They’re back.

The big bolt on the bedroom door is unlocked, and a cold gust follows my unwelcomed guests into the room. Two pale giants with bald heads and sunken faces. Their black eyes glare me down, and I do my best to return their contempt, if only to keep their attention off the black cat hiding beneath my discolored cot.