The Grove (Ravens #1)

xi. thanatos

It was almost dawn, yet Megan and Mason were wide awake in the bed they shared. As the Condor leaders, their room was by the far the most decorative in the camp. Megan had insisted that their authority be shown everywhere, even in the interior design of their bedroom. She believed that in order to keep her power, the world must know it belonged to her. If she was kind, or if she appeared weak, then it would be snatched right from her fingertips. Kindness was weakness, she'd learned. It was better to be feared than loved. If her people feared her, they wouldn't threaten her. It was an age old philosophy, dating back to the days of the Renaissance. How ironic that it originated in a time known as the rebirth of beauty. Here she was, following that same principle in the rebirth of the world.

    "I've heard their camp is still a mess," Mason said, breaking the silence. He could hear his girlfriend breathing beside him, although neither of them had spoken in hours.

    "Good," Megan nodded, "But you haven't gotten her to talk yet, have you?" She hadn't had any success with getting their raven-haired prisoner to cooperate. She was surprised by how resilient the girl was. Based off her reputation, she figured this girl would have complained her way through the ordeal and broken her silence instantly. She assumed she was the type of girl who had never struggled before, the type of person who couldn't handle the pressure. Emma was one of the few people in the forest who had someone that would protect them, yet somehow she had courage on her own. Megan respected that, although it posed quite a challenge to her initial plan of using her for information. They'd have to improvise, but she had an idea.

    "She'll never say anything of value," Mason sighed, "She was unconscious when we left her earlier. Her body is getting weaker, she can't bear the pain for as long anymore."

    "She'll let herself go unconscious," the girl said, "If she's not awake, she can't feel anything, and she can't risk spilling information that way. It's to her own advantage."

    "So what do we do?"

    "If we can't use her for a way into their camp, then we'll just have to let them tear themselves apart."

    Mason paused, "What are you suggesting?" He had a vague suspicion, but he questioned his girlfriend's rationality there. It seemed like it may be going too far.

    "What will they do without their fearless leader?" she asked, almost as though she was talking down to a child, "What will happen when poor Sebby falls?"

    "They'll all fall with him," Mason said, "I understand."

    Megan smiled in the darkness, "Take your time, have fun with this one. I want her dead by tomorrow morning."

    By the time the sun had made a right angle with the ground the following morning, Condor guards were finishing up cleaning out the empty cell. The ground was still wet with blood, a sign of the warrior who had fallen the night before. Mason was standing near their water supply, scrubbing a scratchy old dish rag to his hands to rid them of their bloodstains. They were red and raw now, as he'd been working there for hours. He had done something bad. Oh yes, something very bad. And what for? She didn't even love him.