MF1.0 - 49 - A Hot Meal

Astrin’s eyes snapped open as something bit him. He looked to the side and saw a dog. He closed his eyes, then reached up and snapped the dogs neck. He coughed the remains of river water out of his lungs and sat up. Dog. Dog meat. He’d gotten used to eating small animals when falling to this world. Sometimes they were pets, sometimes they had been strays. Sometimes… ‘Holy Christ!’ He looked up from the meal, blood on his hands and face, and saw a man holding a small brown bottle. ‘Why’d ya have to kill my dog?’ His eyes flickered back to the dog, and lifted another portion of meat to his mouth. ‘Hungry,’ he said. It was the only explanation, it was the only reason. ‘I’m used to those little bobby blokes and sheilas who are there one minute and gone the next, but…you I’m gonna call in. City don’t work when there’s a killer around.’ ‘Not for me,’ he said as he chewed. There wasn’t enough meat on the dog, not enough to make him strong. Not enough for Natenal. ‘For my son.’ ‘I don’t see him.’ Hungry. He was still hungry. He stood, raising himself to his full height. ‘I’m not going to apologise. The cold lady will see you to the beyond.’ ‘What the-?’ the man had time to scream before his throat was gone. ‘Astrin?’ ‘It’s all right Lady Mela, I’m here now.’ ‘What happened to…?’ ''He cut through the ropes holding her to the chair. ‘Your kidnapper is dead. Did he hurt you?’'' ''She gave him a brave smile. ‘He didn’t dare.’'' ''‘Are you sure? Your father wants a…Lady Mela, are you sure that you’re all right?’'' ''She rubbed at her arms, then reached up and touched his face. ‘I’ve been rescued, of course I’m fine.’ She looked past him at the door. ‘And father didn’t have to give up his money, so that’s good.’'' ''He offered an arm. ‘Money can be recouped, other things cannot.’'' ''‘My aunt’s family could continue the family line, even if I could not.’ She looked up at him. ‘Why did he want the money?’'' ''‘We never found out. It doesn’t matter now, it’s a matter for the constabulary to figure out. You’re safe, that’s all that matters.’'' ''She smiled. ‘I wouldn’t want to put my favourite bodyguard out of a job.’'' He fell back from his meal, sated for the first time in hours. He felt strength in his grotesque limbs again. The guilt settled in his chest, as it always did. There wasn’t much left of the man and his dog. He washed his hands in the acrid river water, then moved out of sight – now was the time to think of a new plan, to find a safe place to care for Natenal, to prepare for mirrorfall. He rubbed at his belly, his all too flat belly, but managed a smile when he felt Natenal kick. There were some factories over the hill – he knew there would be places to hide in them. Factories always had nooks and crannies that even those that worked there every day didn’t know about, or had forgotten about. Factories were warmer than streets, there were always little lost things to sell at market, forgotten lunches made good meals. This was something every orphan remembered. In any case, it was safer than being out in the open.