Chapter 100: Sleeping Lion, Two

A bullet sent Ying crumbling to the grass, and a second one pushed her down for good. Her instincts were still yelling at her to get up, but now, no matter how much determination she summoned, she simply could not.

The grass was warm and wet. No… not just the grass.

Scarlet blood was gushing from somewhere above her eyes, leaking into her vision. She wiped her paws over her face to get it out of her eyes, then looked down to see her fur thickly drenched in red. The grass below was already a pool of crimson. She was used to seeing blood gush out this way from her prey. But never before from her.

This was how her prey looked like before it died.

Along with the blood, she felt her consciousness slipping from her. Her breaths were ragged, shallow, fading. Still, she struggled just to keep her eyes open.

“Idiot! How could you kill our only lion? Do you know how much you’ve cost us?” one man was angrily shouting at the gunner.

“If I only tranquilised her, she’d just attack us again,” shrugged the gunner. He gestured at the dead bodies lying on the grass around them. “Look at her. That thing’s a warrior. It can’t be tamed. We can always get more where she came from, anyway.” He started to turn around-

-Before something impaled him through the forehead.

It looked like a large branch—only that its gnarled length was luminescent rather than something material, a construction of pure silver light. The branch went straight through his skull, and the gunner collapsed.

The light vanished immediately afterwards, and Ying had the strange thought that it looked like the dew glistening on the leaves from earlier.

Amid the shocked, horrified yelling of the humans, the lioness felt something brush over her hide. It was a human hand, but this, unlike theirs, was gentle on her fur. A raspy, glass-bright voice echoed by her pricked ear: “Stand up.”

Ying knew that she was dying. She also knew that she didn’t care. Without question, she surged to her feet anew—and found that she could. A strange feeling was coursing through her body. It was electrifying, but instead of being like the burning sensation of the men’s shock prods, this was icy, freezing in her veins. It was deeply uncomfortable. But it gave her the energy she needed.

She felt something climbing on her back. It was probably the human. At first she felt offended: who was this human to think that she could ride her as she pleased? But then, the human put her hands on her and commanded authoritatively: “Let’s kill them all.”

And, well, if it was that… Ying was all too happy to oblige.

Together, Ying and the human massacred the night carnival. Ying mauled, while the human seemed to be the one shooting the silver branches.

At the end of the night, the human climbed off her back, and the lioness finally had a look at her.

To her surprise, it was a girl, small in stature. She was decorously-dressed, as if one of the performers at the carnival, festooned in layers of poofed tulle and mosaic armour. She removed a red-feathered, black-beaked mask from her face. She had a young, rather gaunt face. On her head short curls sprouted, the colour of savannah grass. Her skin was pale and freckled, drowned by the carnival lights, and splattered with blood—none of it her own.

“Good work,” the girl said with a smirk. She rubbed the blood off her face with the back of her hand, in the same way a person did after finishing food. “I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m the Cockatrice. Half chicken, half snake, all awesomeness.”

When the girl spoke, Ying realised that she could understand her. But in a different way from the men. Earlier, she’d had the feeling she understood those humans because, in another time, she’d learned their language. But right now, the girl spoke to her as if she had learned Ying’s.

“Are you human?” Ying asked.

The girl who’d called herself Cockatrice smiled again proudly. “Good catch. No, I’m not. I’m a Beast.” Ying now noticed the tail that swished happily from the girl’s rump, made up of red and green feathers.

Ying pawed her own forehead. She felt where the bullet wound was, gaping and still oozing blood. She winced, taking her paw away. “What did you do? Why am I still alive?”

“I gave you some Lunaki,” answered the Cockatrice. “It’s the moon’s magic.” The girl turned around, and spread out her violet-gloved hands. Ying had to squint her eyes as silver light suddenly shone from her palms. With a brilliant flash, all the locks on the animals’ cages turned to silvery goo. One by one, they melted off from their hinges and plonked to the grass. Whooping, the animals began to push open their doors, fleeing into the woods.

The girl then turned back to Ying. And she said to her, “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?” Ying replied, confused. “I should be thanking you. You freed me.”

“No, I didn’t,” the girl shook her head. “I helped you only because I wanted to recruit you as a warrior to the Beasts. You’ll be part of the Moon Queen’s army, fighting angels. I’m doing nothing more than moving you from a smaller cage to a larger one.” She nodded at the steel enclosures around them. “Really, I’m no better than they were. Also, I just gave you some energy—I can’t heal your wound. You’ll die if you don’t come with me to the moon. So, I’m basically forcing you to come with me… sorry.”

Ying huffed. “Little girl, I don’t understand half of what you just said, but it’s simple to me. They treated me like shit, while you helped me. I’ll follow you of my own will.”

“It’s not nearly that simple.”

“Maybe not, but…” said the lioness, “I’ve accepted I’m never getting back home. But I’ve heard of the Beasts before. Serving them… it would just be like being part of a new pride. It’s the next best thing.”

The Cockatrice looked at her. As if surprised, she laughed.

“You’re a stubborn one. I get the feeling we’re going to be good friends,” the girl said. She reached out and smoothed Ying’s fur over her wound, concealing it partially.

“...?”

“Queen Medusa doesn’t really like damaged goods. She’ll discover it eventually, but…” the girl grinned. “If it’s me, she’ll forgive it. Now come on. It’s time to get out of here.”

It’s time to get out of here. 

And Ying finally, finally woke up.

She was in a golden-walled room. Her wings were curled on both sides of her flank. Where two bulletholes had once bored her forehead, were now two horns. Right. She was a lioness no more, but a pixiu. She hadn’t been a lioness for a long time now. All that had happened a very long time ago. She remembered now: in the present, she had flown into Cretan Labryinth with Asha, where they’d gotten lost.

Now, Jemi Garen was standing over her. Against the far wall, she was accompanied by a man with dark hair and turquoise eyes, a spool of golden vine in his hands.

“Good morning,” her friend smiled. She was older now, but her smile had never changed. “Sorry about the wait.”

~~~