Forgotten Monsters

Chapter 5- Control

Resa's handshake was unexpectedly weak. There was something tough in the arrogant tilt to her head and lazy way she disregarded the dizzying height they perched at. But underneath her streetwise disguise, her bones jutted out like porcupine quills and her skin was the sickly color of oats. At much as it shamed him to admit, her weakness made him uncomfortable. He wasn't used to seeing the lower classes up close. He wasn't used to smelling them. 

He released her hand and looked away. "Let's talk inside," he offered. "Can you climb down?" 

Resa shot him a withering glare and slid down the slope of the roof towards the window. In one movement she twisted, grasping the outer tiles and swung off the roof. After a moment, he heard the soft pad of her feet hitting the floor of his room. He moved carefully, wondering if she was even human as he shuffled across the uneven edge until he could safely climb into his room. Resa had found the chair at his desk and was reclining defiantly. He sighed internally and considered whether he had made a good decision in asking for her help. He wasn't even sure how she could help him.  

Cain thought about sitting down, but found himself too tense. He paced as he talked. Resa picked various items off his desk as he spoke and showed no sign of listening. Occasionally her eyes would flick to his, and then he would see the intelligent flicker in them that made him continue. 

"Do you have any idea what that symbol is?" Cain alluded to her pendant. He considered why it would be both on his mother's ring and around a street rat's neck. 

"Yeah," Resa interrupted his thoughts. 

"What? Really?" Cain stopped pacing. That was almost too easy. 

She shrugged as she examined his inkwell. "It's an image of an eclipse, the moon is the sphere and the ring around it is the surrounding sunlight. Supposedly it symbolizes eternal youth, it's not super common, but you could probably find one on a big market day if you were lucky." 

"Why would my mother have something like that?" Cain thought out loud. Resa got this funny look on her face. "What?"

She set down the inkwell and braced her hands on her thighs. "Your aunt is a witch," she said as though that explained everything. 

"So?" he asked. 

She looked uncomfortable. "So, maybe your mother was too. It runs in the blood, I wouldn't be surprised if you have some magic in you too."

Cain immediately rejected the idea. "My mother wasn't a witch. She was nothing like her sister." 

Resa narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't shout at me. If you have a better theory, please share." 

Cain didn't have anything to say. If he thought about it, it made sense. His mother had been fond of talismans and herbal remedies when she'd been alive. And perhaps his aunt's iron grip over his soul was helped by the magic given to him by his lovely mother. Resa looked entirely too smug for him to admit that she may be right. 

She tossed a stone figurine from hand to hand. His aunt had given it to him over a year ago. He had thrown it out the window spitefully, but in the morning it returned without a scratch. "What I'd like to know is how I'm supposed to help you, Highness." 

Cain was saved from giving an exact response when a stiff knock came at his door. Resa placed the statue on the desk and stood up quickly, her eyes darting around. She's moved so quickly Cain was shocked the guards had ever been able to catch her the day he had first seen her. He placed a finger to his lips, gesturing towards his bed. As he reached for the door she rolled under the cot, tucking her legs out of sight. 

He swung the door open onto a young page with hair the color of old hay parted down the middle. "Her Royal Majesty requests your presence in the Throne Room immediately," the boy recited. He was a new messenger. Cain tried not to think about what had happened to the old one.