The Bracken Woods She

She wished she could answer Mulherin’s questions, though Masquerade could only give an aggravated shake and say, I don’t think I have a choice. She paused, then added, That’s why I’m here, trying to—I don’t know—at least wrestle her into submission, with a decidedly hollow laugh.

Once more, she flashed back to her fight with Redd. If she wanted to support her sister properly, Masque would truly have to wrangle this new aspect of her personality. If she couldn’t, she couldn’t submit to Redd in good faith, which would just cause an ongoing rift…

And this was the point where the cerebral Caru and her inner Avicus met in the middle. It was the part of her that smarted at Mulherin’s—and everyone else’s—instant acceptance of the new Wealda based on a single moment in time, rather than more than a year of unshakable dedication and loyalty.

Mul, she said, suddenly beyond dog tired, it means a lot that you came to check on me. Thank you for being the only one who ever seems to give a damn about me sometimes, even though he’d put Redd above her. Wincing, looking at her bum leg, she finished on a sigh, But I need to figure this out on my own. Go home.