Paxton was up before the sun the next morning, preparing the fire for breakfast and tending the horses. Konor joined him down at the lake with a bucket, and together they carried the water up to camp to be boiled in pots over the fire. They got the first one started and sat together on a log.
“What was it like?” Konor asked him.
Paxton looked into the man’s wondering eyes for a moment before he realized what he was asking about: the man he’d supposedly killed. Konor’s keenness made Paxton uncomfortable.
“Taking a life is no small thing,” Paxton muttered.
“It seemed simple enough when you did it.”
Curses. Paxton gritted his teeth. “He was not a good man. It was . . . necessary, but it brought me no joy, if that’s what you’re asking.”
At this, Konor seemed disappointed. “There were lots of men like him in my town. I never did anything wrong, and they still looked at me like I was scum, especially this one man, the town’s messenger, Davito. He had to pass my house every day, and every day he spit on my door. When I heard about Rozaria, and found out things were changing, I knew I had to find her. But first”—he held up his lined fingernails, a frightening smile on his face—“I killed Davito’s cow and goat.” Konor let out a chilling laugh.
Paxton had to turn away from the man. “I’m sorry to hear you were treated that way.” And even more sorry to hear he’d reacted to hatred with more hatred.
“Everything is going to be okay now,” Konor said wistfully.
Rozaria emerged from her tent, and Konor jumped to his feet. Paxton was slower to rise, but her eyes found him straightaway and she made her way over to him.
“I’d like to show you something.” She looked from him to Konor. “Both of you. Come.”
They followed, and Paxton realized she was leading them to the building where they’d held the prisoner. She spoke over her shoulder as she walked.
“At each camp I have a place where I work on my creations. Two were sturdy enough to be transported from our last camp, though I’m not certain one will make it.”
“You mean your monsters?” Konor asked with a thrill.
Rozaria nodded, fondness in her voice. “My beastlings.”
Paxton’s stomach turned to a heavy, plunging stone within him as he remembered the unnatural creature he’d fought in his homeland. He did not want to go into that building—to see her at work—to witness magic being used in ways that were not good for anyone. But he held his tongue and followed. One of her guards stood at the door. When he opened it for them, Paxton nearly doubled over.
The stench. He’d come across carcasses in the wild, half-eaten by vultures, so he recognized the smell of death. But this was concentrated and unfiltered. Even Konor covered his nose with his arm. Rozaria grinned.
“That is the smell of years’ worth of hard-won conquests. Let yourself become one with it.”
No, thank you.
Konor dropped his hand, but his face was still pinched. They followed her into a dim room where she lit a torch with her fingers, then used it to light others along the wall. Paxton could not believe his eyes. He and Konor stood there, gaping at the giant, elongated room with iron cages holding young animals and older ones that appeared pregnant, all sitting in their own excrement.
Rozaria clucked her tongue. “I am glad to have new people at camp. I shall get Chun’s daughter and nephews to clean these cages.”
Paxton eyed the animals: chimpanzee, ocelot, jaguar, panther, and leopard. There were also giant lizards that he had no name for, and smaller cages with predatory birds and enormous spiders. At the end in the largest cage was something large and black, with thick, curved tusks.
“What’s that one?”
“That is a cape buffalo. Very strong. They have quite a temper when roused. But they are not fast runners. This one will deliver soon, and I will fuse the babe with the panther’s body.”
Konor’s mouth made an O of wonder. Paxton was caught between morbid curiosity about how any of this was possible and an urge to set all the animals free and burn the building to the ground.
She led them around a corner into a smaller room with more cages.
“These are my newest.”
A small furry ball the size of a lap dog uncurled itself in an upper cage, blinking large black eyes in a lion cub face. It flopped onto its belly and sat up, appearing to have the body of a black bear with overgrown paws and claws. Rozaria shook her head as she peered at it. She grabbed a stick and poked through the bars, shouting a command in Kalorian.
The cub immediately pounced on it, grabbing it in its paws and rolling onto its back as it playfully licked the stick. Konor laughed, but Rozaria sneered, shutting him up.
“This one shows no inclination toward attack,” she said. “I should have known better than to take the newborn cub of a traveling gypsy’s tame bear. Worthless.” She nudged it harder with the stick, jabbing its tough belly, and the cub yelped, pressing against the back of the cage and giving her the saddest look. Paxton had to keep himself from pushing her away from the thing. Rozaria sighed and dropped the stick.
“He’ll be a waste of food. If he can’t get his act together I’ll get rid of him.”
Paxton watched the cub as it curled up and eyed them warily. Aye, he was a hunter and he ate animals, but he had compassion for all living things. This one, in particular, tugged at his heart.
A loud hissing from below made Paxton and Konor step back, but Rozaria squatted with a smile. They peered in at a reptilian creature. It had the body of a dragon lizard, with extraordinarily long legs and a whiplike tail, but its neck and head were that of a python.
Rozaria thrust her face forward and made a vicious hissing sound. The young creature swiped at the metal bars with its long claws and hissed in return. Rozaria chuckled. The creature was relatively small, but it would no doubt eventually grow to be as long as Paxton. The sight of it gave him chills.
“How’d you do that?” Konor asked. “Make two animals become one?”
Rozaria smiled, as if she had hoped someone would ask this question. Without a word, she went back into the main room and they followed. She came to a crate in the corner and took out a small, stiff, furry carcass, laying it on the nearest table.
“This one did not make it. It had complications while I was away. In the early stages they need constant care.”
Paxton and Konor inched closer to see the creature. It appeared to be a miniature version of the beast that had ravaged Lochlanach. A warthog’s face, scales along its torso, and arms and legs like a bear.
“I take the strongest, most dangerous parts from animals and fuse them together. Living things are fragile, but there is a small time span when they can die and be brought back—just enough time to be cut and pieced together. I have to be sure each has the working parts that it requires on the inside. It takes great concentration to bind flesh and bone of one to another.” She ran a finger along the line of the creature’s back, where it seemed that a rectangle of reptilian skin had been patched. “It only works on younglings that are still growing. If the binding works, I then infuse magic to enlarge them and strengthen certain parts.”
She took its stiff paw, pressing the oversized claws into the pads of her fingers. “When I send my energy into these creatures, it’s almost as if they are made of countless tiny entities, and I must speak to each one. To rework each thought process about what its limits are.”
A chill of fascination overtook Paxton. He remembered feeling that way when he healed Tiern, as if his magic were encompassing the smallest of rogue particles and forcing them to his will. But to hear her say it, in this context, appalled him.
Konor stared at her in open awe. “And then you train them?”
She nodded. “Once they are strong enough and I know they will survive, I begin tests of strength and loyalty, then instill a desire to protect at will and attack on command.”
“How long have you been doing this?” Paxton asked.
A fond look crossed her face. “My entire life. My father was the one who started this work. His first creature was an ugly, small, mutilated thing, but it lived. He didn’t know he could grow it at that time. We learned much together.”
“Where is he now?” Konor asked.
“Dead. When I was ten I watched as a beast with a tiger’s face took his throat in its mouth during training. I swear, he was smiling with pride when he died. He could not be saved.”
She looked at Paxton and Konor matter-of-factly before dropping the dead beast into the crate and wiping her hands on her skirts. “You will both be required to do rotations guarding this building and keeping watch over the beasts, helping as needed.”
Both men nodded, Konor a bit more enthusiastically. The door opened behind them, and they all turned to see the hooded girl enter.
“Ah, Nicola,” Rozaria said. She looked at Paxton. “It is time for us to begin our work.”
He nodded. “I would be happy to hunt today for the camp . . . if you see fit to return my bow.”
She squinted at him, causing his heart to race, then she gave a slow nod. She called out something in Kalorian to the guard outside.
“Roza . . .” said the girl, Nicola, in a warning tone. Paxton looked at her, but could only see her lips and nose. She seemed to be staring pointedly at Rozaria. Was she warning her against giving him back his bow? Rozaria said something soothing to the girl before returning her attention to Paxton.
“You shall have your weapons.”
Triumph raged inside him as he calmly said, “Thank you.” Perhaps if he could find a wild boar to feed the camp, he’d be able to gain the trust of the others. Regardless, he had seemed to earn the trust of Rozaria Rocato, and for that he thanked the seas.