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He’s not saying anything I disagree with, but it’s as if his words are stones thrown at Bowen. Every sentence makes the big man’s shoulders drop further. I slip my hand into his and manage a smile, though it feels stilted. “Thank you for your time.”
It’s more than mildly alarming to be able to lead Bowen to one of the pews and guide him to sit down. It’s on the tip of my tongue to make a joke to break the awful storm growing in his expression. I don’t. “Are you okay?”
“He’s wrong.” He doesn’t say it like he believes it, though. “He has to be wrong. We protect people. They’re grateful for the protection.”
How much to push? It’s hard to say. But there might never be a moment where I can get through to him. I don’t have to take a hammer to him; all I need is a scalpel. “How many villages or towns meet you with open arms? Or do they all greet you like this one, as if you’re the monster hiding under their beds?”
“What?”
“Typically when there’s a savior coming into town, people are excited to see them. It’s a celebrated thing.” I’ve seen it happen with the hunters back home. People fear the dark and they elevate those who are willing to take up their weapons and fight monsters beyond knowing.
That’s the problem, though. I won’t pretend there aren’t monsters lurking in plenty of shadows, but a lot of people look at something Other and decide it’s monstrous simply because they don’t see themselves reflected back.
In my world, it’s all too easy for the monster hunters to become more monstrous than the beings they hunt. Judging by the looks people gave us when we walked through the village, the same is true for Threshold.
“Some people don’t understand,” he mutters. “They think we’re there to snatch their children to join our ranks. That’s not how the laws work. We protect. We don’t kidnap and murder, no matter what Elijah says.”
It strikes me that I could fall in love with this fallen hero of a man. The way he clings to his laws as if everyone holds them as sacred makes me want to hug him. “Not every Cwn Annwn is you, Bowen. You’re not naive enough to believe none of them abuse their power. That’s not even getting into the fact that apparently the Council fabricated the report that led to your order to kill this dragon. How many other reports have they fabricated that you just didn’t catch?”
“I can’t … This isn’t …” He stares down at his hands. “This is fucked.”
“Yep.” I bump my shoulder against his. “The only question is what you’re going to do about it.” I don’t expect a single conversation to knock his entire alignment out of order, but surely he can see that chasing down the dragon is wrong?
Bowen leans back against the pew with a sigh. “I would like to know who’s making reports on behalf of people who aren’t interested in being saved.”
“Only because there wasn’t anything to be saved from.” I have to wonder how many generations of dragons had their young on that beach while the village kept their silence. I would wager there’s been more than either of us could possibly guess. “Are you going to hunt her down?”
“No.” He shakes his head and his voice firms up. “No. It’s a waste of time and resources when she’ll return to her home realm on her own. As long as she doesn’t hurt or kill anyone else, it seems … cruel to kill her. Let alone the youngling.” His expression is troubled. “No matter what else is true, he was right about that. It’s wrong to deprive a child of its mother, when she was only trying to protect them. I don’t like that she killed people, but …”
“It’s more complicated than you realized,” I fill in.
“Yeah. A lot more complicated.”
That soft feeling in my chest grows. I knew there was much to be admired about this infuriating man, but the fact that he’s adapting so quickly? It breaks my heart that I won’t be around to see his final evolution.
If he even has one. The Cwn Annwn don’t seem the type to allow their people to question orders.
A frisson of fear shoots down my spine. No. Damn it, no. Bowen is not my problem. Even if he was, I’m not the one people go to when they need help or protection. I’m a good time and a fun escape, but I’m not a harbor against storms.
But … I don’t want to see him hurt.
“I know the crew won’t be happy to hear that, but maybe you can find a way to pitch it that sounds reasonable and won’t cause a revolt.”
He finally looks at me. One corner of his lips curve. “Worried about me?”
“Maybe.” I huff. “Okay, fine, yes, I’m worried about you. You were about to sacrifice yourself against a cat-sìth to save my life. Your instincts are suspect.”
His dark eyes see too much. Thankfully, he keeps his observations to himself and rises. “Let’s go back to the Hag. Hopefully I come up with a brilliant argument in the meantime to convince them not to mutiny.”
Again, that awful concern for him arises. I’ve seen how some of the crew talk about him. You hear a lot of things in the kitchen, and while I had no intention of staying in Threshold longer than strictly necessary, it was impossible not to notice that the crew is divided into three factions. Those who think Bowen walks on water. Those who believe Miles is more of a proper representation of what the Cwn Annwn should be. And those who haven’t made up their mind yet.
It still boggles the mind that these fearsome monster killers decide their captain by … vote. From the gossip I gathered, there are times when it might come down to a fight or a straight-up mutiny, but generally that’s not how leadership passes. The captain who’s voted out is dropped at the nearest port—as long as they still has some goodwill with the crew—and then they’re left to find another Cwn Annwn crew and join up, starting at the bottom of the heirarchy.
In the time since Bowen pulled me out of the water, he seems to be losing people’s support daily. “Will this decision be the one that finally tips the balance in Miles’s favor?”
“It’s possible. Probable, even.” Bowen shrugs. He holds out a broad hand, and even though I definitely don’t need help standing, I take it and allow him to tug me to my feet. He doesn’t respond to my question until we step out of the building and into the faint sunlight. “There are a lot of individuals who are loyal to me, but the crew as a whole is a fickle beast and Miles is good at knowing exactly what angle to take to get them to listen to him.” He shrugs again. “It doesn’t matter. It’s the right thing to do.”
Again, that awful urge to protect him arises.
