Page 18 of Prey It By Ear

“Go ahead and tell them, Chess.”

We all look at Felix when he finally speaks again, and the cheetah nods slowly before turning back to face everyone. “Okay, Felix. Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Chess pauses for a second, like he’s gathering himself, and then says, “Several decades ago, Bloodstone Isle was splashed all over the pred news—not the internet, mind, the actual news—because of student death rates.”

“Isn’t dying what the island is for?” Dolly asks in confusion. “That’s what my parents have always said.”

Felix snorts, shaking his head. “Pretty sure that if you aren’t in the elite Society families, the reputation of Bloodstone is maintained differently, especially at the time Chess is talking about.”

“Right,” the cheetah says as he goes on. “Prior to these public complaints, Bloodstone Isle Reformatory School was simply billed as a ‘back to nature, serious discipline’ place for wealthy preds to send their kids. It was never that, obviously, but the councils sent wild pred kids off to die with a salute for many years before these parents went to the media. No one complained or cared because it was a good way to ditch a willful or problematic heir out of sight and eventually, people stopped asking about them.”

I frown, realizing that I had believed that to be the case as well at the time. Obviously, I was far too old for such a suggestion, but I remember thinking that I was glad they didn’t have places to ship us off to when I was exiled. I may have lost all my connections, but I was free. No one could control me, and I figured out how to muddle through my many centuries without interference until I settled at the newly founded Apex Academy in its inception. Many other exiled adults were sent to teach there in response to my joining the staff, and though no one liked it, many cast-off heirs could find a home at the school over the years.

If they’d had something like the cats are describing, we’d all be dead, it seems.

“Anyway, several parents who were not as elite had children get caught up in antics that earned them spots at Bloodstone alongside their much wealthier compatriots.” Chess licks his lips and shrugs. “I’m relaying what I know from research and other accounts; even the twins were younger, so they know as much as kids know about these things, you know?”

“I know that the image of Bloodstone being even remotely a school was bullshit,” Fitz says with a rough laugh. “None of the prisoners who got shipped to our homeland ever got any kind of education beyond keeping themselves alive in the jungle or the pits. They were entertainment for the shitty adults and visiting assholes in a multitude of ways.”

Felix snarls at him. “Getting ahead of him.”

“Fine, fine,” the younger tiger says as he holds up his hands. “Go on, baby.”

“Thanks,” Chester says as he scratches his brow in a common nervous tic he often exhibits. “So, these parents didn’t really know the score, and their kids went with the rich kids that the families knew would never come home. They eventually got suspicious, and when they were informed the ‘students’ were dead, complaints were filed with multiple Councils. That got them nowhere, and they went to the news media, which meant something had to be done.”

“I guess they could report things with less fear back then? Seems like now the Barringtons would shut it all down.” Dolly tilts her head, and I’m amazed at how she’s able to pay attention so closely but also analyze the information quickly. Her mother did not give her brains enough credit; our bunny is damn intelligent.

Renard waves his hand. “The Barringtons did not control the media as globally then, oui? Many of the overseas papers and TV stations had their own management. Their partnership with Erikson as the PredNet grew helped them make enough to expand outside of the US.”

“Exactly,” Chess says. “So it was harder to make it go away when smaller journalists and random places would pick up the story again, and then it would pop back into the mainstream news… The story I’ve been given over the years is that in order to quash this cycle of constant crying mothers on the TV, the Pred councils sent ‘ambassadors’ to Bloodstone to inspect the facilities.”

Felix sits up, looking serious as he says, “This would be the time when our father was raging a lot about stupidity and complicity, and did a bunch of pricey renovations to the main cat city where the ‘school’ was supposedly located. The only schooling that took place in those areas before this, by the way, were the classes for the children in his family and court. No prisoners ever went to school or whatever on that island, I promise.”

This is only going to get worse; I can tell.

“According to the minutes I could get a hold of a couple of years ago, the Councils in the areas where the four parents of the missing ‘students’ lived put out applications for diplomats a few months prior. From that pool, four sets of preds were selected to visit Bloodstone at different times to inspect and report back. Unfortunately, the first three ambassadors and their families must have been easy to buy off. Otherwise, it might not have gotten to mine.”

“Motherfucker,” I whisper as it hits me. Fitz wraps his arms around the cheetah and buries his face in the smaller cat’s back at my words. The Raj looks away, and I sigh. “So your parents went and took you with them?”

“Exactly,” Chester says in a soft, defeated voice. “No one said it was dangerous, and obviously, they were paid to keep quiet about what they saw. My parents brought me along, and though they were smaller preds, they were—as the people who commented in the news said—not going to be swayed when it came to missing children or inappropriate treatment of those confined to the island by the laws.”

Rennie clucks his tongue as he leans against me. “Your parents were too honnête⁠*, eh? They were worried about les enfants⁠*, but they did not realize the danger they were putting themselves or their own child in.”

Scowling, Fitz hugs his mate tighter. “We didn’t let them hurt him. Nonna helped.”

“Fitz, they know that. The thing we couldn’t do is save his parents,” Felix says in a sad voice. “But… that’s for Chess to tell.”

“Chessie, if this part is too hard, they can⁠—”

“No, angel. It’s okay. I’ve made as much peace with it as I can. I barely remember that time, and what I remember most is Felix and Fitz, you know?” The cheetah sighs, leaning back against Fitz as he clears his throat. “There’s no record of exactly what my parents found, heard, or saw. If their journals exist on Bloodstone, the three of us never found them. Whatever they said they would report is probably what got them thrown into the jungles to survive the decades of students who have been released into the wild to kill, thrive, and survive… or die.”

“How do you know they’re… dead, then?” Dolly asks softly. “How does anyone even know anything about what is and is not out there?”

Felix snorts and shakes his head as he murmurs, “Because they send patrols out once a week. Our people know the jungle like we know our own stripes. They bring back the supplies and remnants of those who have been consumed by the preds and mythicals locked in the Bloodstone Jungle of Reckoning—that’s what my dad calls it. Chess’ parents had specific clothing that was brought back in blood-covered tatters with bloody fur on it.”

I tilt my head as I look at the Raj seriously. “Is this still what they do? Was it what they were doing when you were exiled?”