Jac didn’t know what to feel as the monster came trotting toward them. She certainly didn’t feel fear. Perhaps she was spending too much time with Belle, because looking at the creature, hideous as it was, Jac almost felt pity. 

Its black, sagging skin was slick with sweat, and foam dripped from within the leather muzzle cinched around its face. Long, pale, familiar scars, the ones born of a whip, criss-crossed its hide, and at the ends of its long, overly-jointed legs, where the monster’s claws had once been were now black-scabbed nubs. The three-inch teeth jutting out of the long mouth that split its otherwise horse-like face were broken and black, though Jac supposed they may have been black naturally, as the rest of the beast was too. 

Except for those eyes, as pale as every monster’s. At least in the daytime. 

The beast pulled a wagon behind it, and the person on the other end of the reins looked about as welcoming as their beast. When the wagon was just a few yards from them, the rider jerked on the reins and the wheezing beast came to a stop. Well, it came to a stop aside from its violent shaking—Jac could practically hear its bones, which seemed there only to prop up its skin, rattling against each other. The burly, hairy rider, who Jac could smell just by looking at them, raked their eyes over both girls, and then flashed a grin with teeth to match their monster from within their crusty beard.

“You two sweets must be lost,” the rider said, glinting eyes jumping from Jac’s unimpressed expression to Belle’s blank one. “Only thieves and whores have business in Urden.”

Jac cocked her head and gave them a dead smile. “Perhaps we’re thieves.”

“No, no,” that grin grew back on their face like black mold. The rider hooked a thumb to gesture to their own chest. “This man has known hundreds’a thieves and many more whores. I’d name the two of you far too pretty to be thieves.”

Jac cast Belle a glance—it was always a toss up how Belle would react to predatory men. But Belle’s soft, freckled face had that dazed look it got, and her green eyes darted all around the monster, and Jac knew she was lost in the monster’s magic. She probably hadn’t heard a word the man said. Jac relaxed.

“But if it’s true Urden’s your destination,” the man continued, “you sweets definitely want to quicken those little steps of yours. Come dark, monster’s’ll be dripping from those branches.” He gestured overhead. 

Belle barely moved, but the shift in her presence was palpable. From blank, to warm and open. The monster paused its panting to take a few sniffs. 

“Not pathetic beasts like this one,” the man carried on, hanging his words with increasing dread, “but ones with teeth as long as those legs of yours.”

“Hello, you sweet, stinky girl,” Belle said, her bright voice barely audible under the man’s harsh one. The monster’s ears, the one-and-a-half of them still attached to its head, swiveled and locked onto Belle. 

“I know plenty’a experienced hunters that won’t go near these woods. Now, if you two wanted a ride, I could get you inside the walls ‘fore nightfall.”

Belle chattered at the monster, a stream of magical nonsense. She swayed gently, and her fingers danced through the air. The monster blinked its enormous, pale eyes, and inched its flaring nostrils closer. Jac had seen Belle befriend quite a few monsters, and this one was muzzled … but Jac had also seen monsters chew the legs off a still-screaming man, or rip a woman’s child from her arms. Along with one of her arms. So it would take quite a lot to get her to relax around one. Jac kept her eyes on the beast and gripped her weapon. 

The man finally realized that neither of the women, nor his own monster, were listening to a word he was saying. “Wha—?”

Belle floated a hand toward the monster and Jac stiffened. “You’re a ways from home, aren’t you, pretty girl?” 

The man asked Jac, “Does the girl own sense?”

“Not a bit,” Jac replied without taking her eyes off the beast.

“Now, sweet,” the man put on a tone like Belle was a small child, “the beast may look useless, and most ways it is, but it’ll still do harm. I’d stay back if—”

Belle opened her mouth once more.

The man’s reaction was about the same as Jac’s had been the first time she’d heard Belle speak the language of monsters. Though the twisted words—if they could even be called words—that bled from between Belle’s lips were soft, they killed the man’s words as cleanly as a knife to his throat. Mouth still open, revealing all his rotting teeth, the man just stared at Belle as she wove cursed words into the air around them. Jac had to suppress a shiver. She would never get used to that. And she would never understand how Belle, human as she was, could even make those sounds, much less maintain a constant stream of them.

The monster trembled, but its eyes, empty a second ago, lit up. It gave a weak sound, something between a shriek and a whine, in response. Perhaps that was all it could manage with the muzzle on. An awed smile filled Belle’s face, and she took a final step to close the distance between herself and the monster.

“Ay!” The man lept from the wagon, reins clasped in one hand, and both Belle and the monster flinched, hard. The monster shrunk away, pinning its ears and ducking its head. “Didn’t you hear me, girl? The beast’s dangerous!”

Belle seemed to notice the man for the first time, and she just stared at him with wide green eyes. The way anyone else would look at a monster. She said nothing, did nothing, though the man was waiting for an answer. 

To pull the man’s attention back to herself, Jac said, “We have been walking a while. A ride would be much appreciated.”

The man gave Belle a onceover flavored with distaste before turning back to Jac and offering a slimy smile. “I’d be happy to help you two sweets out. For a favor in return, of course. Since your senseless friend is so fond of my beast, maybe she can take the reins and you and I can talk about that favor in the back of the wagon. And I can show you my other beast.”

He grinned, proud of his double entendre. 

Jac weighed her options; either she could brush this guy off and just walk the rest of the way, as they’d planned, or she could kick this guy’s ass, which would be far more fun. It had been a minute since she’d gotten to beat the shit out of someone, and this guy would be more satisfying than most. He was pretty big—he might even put up a decent fight. Even better if he was a practitioner of magic, though she doubted it. 

However, they’d wasted too much time on this fool already. They needed to get moving. Plus, fighting the man might rile the monster. Or it might give Belle ideas about setting the pitiful thing free.

So Jac just said, “Pass,” and turned to leave.

But his hand closed over her arm.

Belle blinked her big, green eyes and said, “Uh, sir, I really can’t recommend that.”

Slowly, Jac turned back to face the man, looking him in the eye. Jac saw a moment of hesitation in him when he couldn’t find any fear in her gaze, but he only tightened his grip. 

“And why’s that, sweet?” the man asked Belle. “You suggesting I take you in the wagon instead?”

“No, sir,” Belle said as she stepped forward to calm the beast who watched its master with bulging, terrified eyes. “It’s just that you’d have better luck facing down the biggest beast in this forest than fucking with my friend here.”

Belle had this earnest way of speaking, this absolute lack of pretense, that made her so believable. Again, the man hesitated, shooting Jac a unsure glance. But his pride wouldn’t let him back down.

Jac grinned, beautiful two-toned lips pulling back to reveal each of her teeth, and her golden eyes flashed wicked. Thank the Light Mother for granting men such silly pride. 

She gripped the man’s hand, still clenched on her arm, and pried it off like it was nothing, then kept twisting it until the man yelled and sank to his knees. She released him, and he dropped the reins to cradle his limp hand. Belle muttered warped words to the monster and rubbed a soothing hand along its neck. 

“You bitch!” the man snarled.

“How original.” Jac cocked her head and stared down at the man. “Come on, you’re not done, are you?”

He hissed through his filthy teeth and stood, reaching for the short sword on his hip with his one working hand. 

Jac easily outstepped the flash of steel. “Oh, we’re inviting weapons to this fight, huh? Let me introduce my own.”

Dodging slash after slash, Jac reached for the handle behind her back and pulled on the leather ties that held the wrap in place. The wrap fell away and she freed her weapon, savoring its weight as she twirled it in one hand before letting it fall into her opposite palm. The man stopped to stare at the enormous war hammer, as if admiring the carvings on its golden head. 

The monster shrieked and bucked, jerking Jac’s attention. Belle calmly slipped away from its thrashing legs like she was made of smoke, then tugged the beast gently back to all fours, still speaking those inhuman words. On instinct, Jac held up her hammer to block the man’s next attack, his sword bouncing off the hammer’s handle with a clang. While he reeled, Jac countered, burying her hammer in his gut and sending him flying ten … twenty … thirty feet—and he would have kept going had a tree not impeded his path. His body slammed into the trunk with the sound of grinding bone, and he crumpled among the massive roots.

Jac watched him, smacking the handle of her hammer into her opposite palm. “Come on, you dick. Get up.”

“If you’re gonna keep fighting him, do it over there,” Belle said in a stage-whisper, trailing dancing fingers over the monster’s skin. It seemed to have gone into a sort of trance—whether that was due to Belle’s magic or a fear-induced catatonia was unclear. “You’re making Clarix nervous.”

Jac stared at Belle. “Tell me you didn’t name that thing.”

Belle stared back.

Jac sucked her teeth.

Belle sucked her teeth back.

“Mother Light,” Jac muttered, then dropped her hammer on one shoulder and strode off to see if the man was dead or not.

Ten minutes later, the man was hog-tied and gagged, able to protest only with muffled grunts and groans as Jac raided his wagon and Belle carefully freed the beast from the wagon and muzzle. The monster, now Clarix, pressed its trembling body against Belle, nearly knocking her over. Belle beamed, then grabbed the canteen that hung from her belt and tipped it toward the beast’s mouth. Clarix’s forked black tongue darted out to investigate the liquid that splashed her foamy lips, then she opened her mouth and let Belle pour the water down her throat. After a few gulps, Clarix coughed and hacked, unused to drinking like that, but a moment later she eagerly opened her mouth again. 

“Don’t give the beast all your water,” Jac said, looking up from rifling through one of the man’s bags to give Clarix a suspicious glance. 

“‘Course not,” Belle said, shaking the last few drops into Clarix’s mouth. 

Jac sighed. “I’m not sharing any of mine.”

“That’s okay,” Belle told Clarix, like she was talking to a puppy, “we’ll reach Urden soon and get more water there.”

“You try to take that monster into any city, even Urden, they’ll kill it and you before you’re even through the gate.”

Belle slipped back into the language of monsters, though she still had that same tone in her voice. Clarix chirped in response and nudged Belle with her nose. The man tried to shout through his gag, and when Belle turned her gaze on him, her expression went empty. She simply watched him, eyes dead, while he thrashed and snarled. Slowly, his shouts quieted and he stilled. They stared at each other.

She raised a finger to him, traced something in the air, and spoke in a monster’s voice. The man flinched like he was expecting a strike, and blinked in surprise when it never came. Jac hopped from the wagon, a bag full of anything she had deemed worthy of stealing slung over her shoulder. She looked from Belle to the man.

“Was that a curse?”

Belle turned back to Clarix and gave a solemn nod.

“He doesn’t look cursed.”

“I cursed him with memories. Her memories.” She drew a hand over the pale scars on the monster’s hide. “They’ll come to him over time, as vivid as if he were living them. Well,” thoughtfully, she looked up at the dying light filtering through the leaves, “if he’s lucky and the nightbeasts don’t kill him first. Think we should cut his binds and give him a chance?”

“That sounds like a powerful curse.” Jac watched Belle with narrowed eyes.

Belle nodded, eyes still on the canopy above them. 

“You haven’t been able to practice magic that heavy in…”

“Years,” Belle agreed. She closed her eyes and drew in a long, delicious breath. “Maybe it’s this forest. Or just … these few days of freedom.”

Absently, Belle lifted a hand to touch her blissfully bare neck and she smiled a heartbreaking smile. When she looked at Jac, her eyes glistened.

“Either way,” she said, dancing backwards on the balls of her feet and twirling so her cloak and dress fanned around her. “I’m going to love my magic while it’s here.”

She skipped off toward the trail, and Clarix, hypnotized by Belle’s flowing movements, trotted after her in a daze. 

“Ay!” Jac called after her. “What am I supposed to do with this asshole?”

“Up to you!” Belle called back, then slipped into song.

Jac folded her arms and considered the pathetic man bound before her. 

He was finally still and silent, staring up at her with wide eyes. Then he raised one eyebrow and asked a muffled, “Muh?”