They cut Tarek loose in short order. He spat out his gag and massaged the life back into his hands and feet as Tavi went to check on Bachi and Pahtl. The otter would be all right, Tarek knew. The pains he felt through their connection were minor. Tarek held the tatters of his shirt to the seeping wound on his chest and wished he could say the same.

“Thank you,” he said to the woman. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She gave him a withering look. “Yes, I did.”

He had no answer to that, so he hoisted himself upright and went to Kanga. He stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he was close enough to see blood glistening in the firelight. His stomach jumped and his heart sped. Kanga was still breathing, but his face was torn and ruined. His nose was bent at an angle across his face, his eyes were swollen over, and deep gashes marred his brow and cheeks. A purpling spot on his forehead looked sunken as if the bone underneath were broken. Blood leaked from his nose and split lips, and Tarek could see a broken tooth inside his slack mouth. The sight ought to have been nauseating, but instead, it was… mouth-watering. He could smell the sharp tang of life in the air. Tarek’s fists balled. He tried to wrench his gaze away, but instead he took a step forward.

Tavi was there in a heartbeat, pushing him back. “Hey, hey, back up! Ones Beneath, I should have thought about this. Look at me, Tarek! Look at my eyes.”

Tarek couldn’t. He was weak and hurting, but he outweighed his younger brother by nearly half. His hands came up of their own accord and pushed Tavi aside. Tavi didn’t quit, though – he took a hold of one arm and hauled back as hard as he could. Then Bachi was there, cradling one arm against his chest and sporting a black eye, but he took Tarek’s other arm with his good hand and held him back as best he could.

“I can’t,” Tarek groaned. “Please, the smell. Let go!”

The pale woman looked on in confusion. “I thought you said he was the only one allowed to kill him.”

“Not like this!” Tavi snapped. Still holding tight, he pivoted and kicked at the back of Tarek’s knees. Tarek went back down, landing hard on his knee bones. The shock of pain helped clear his head for an instant, but the desire for blood was insistent. He felt as if he’d never had a good meal in his entire life and a banquet stood just out of reach. Bachi and Tavi had his arms pinioned, and he began to wonder how badly he was going to have to hurt them.

 Pahtl limped up to where he knelt. With some difficulty he reared up, resting his forepaws on Tarek’s shoulders. His square head blocked the sight of Kanga. The mustache markings of his fur shone orange in the firelight against the dark ruddiness of his pelt. “Shhh. Be calm. Your mind is like a fallen hive. I can feel it.” The otter nuzzled his head against Tarek’s face. “Come back, Tarek. Come back to your friend. Do not listen to the wasps in your head.”

The strong musk of Pahtl’s fur invaded Tarek’s nose and his muscles went limp. The bloodlust faded, dwindling from a bonfire to a guttering candle in a moment now that he couldn’t smell Kanga’s blood. He leaned his head into Pahtl’s neck and breathed as hoarsely as if he’d just run a race.

“Thank you,” he gasped. “I couldn’t stop it. Oh Pahtl, what would I do without you?”

“Stupid things.” Pahtl nuzzled him affectionately. “You would not be fun to play with if you went mad.”

Tarek looked to Tavi and Bachi. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I think you can let go. I’m all right now.”

They did, but Tavi hovered very close. Tarek kept his face close to Pahtl’s fur, reveling in the renewed clarity of mind that had fled the moment he saw Kanga’s blood. “Bachi, how is your hand?”

“Broken,” Bachi said miserably. “I wasn’t even doing anything. He just did it for fun.”

Tarek shook his head. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault. I should have known he was coming. I thought they were just bad dreams.”

“We have to kill him,” Tavi said flatly. “He followed us all this way; he’ll never stop. And you go crazy at the sight of him.”

It was the wise choice, but after his uncontrollable desire to drink from the man again, Tarek found he couldn’t stomach any more violence. “I can’t.”

“I can,” the pale woman grunted. “The boy shouldn’t have stopped me.”

“I know he’s dangerous,” Tarek said. “But… he’s only here because of me. If I hadn’t taken his blood, would he have ever left the Catori?”

“Too bad for him,” Tavi said.

“When one of the water people goes rabid, the rest kill him quickly,” Pahtl said. “Even if he was a friend before. And this one was no friend, I think.”

“I know,” Tarek said. “But it’s my fault. I think maybe I made him rabid, at least a little bit. And I can’t just look him in the face and put a knife in him.”

“I won’t be able to sleep if he’s still behind us,” Tavi said.

The pale woman sighed. “Why do you stay with these children, Great One?” she asked Pahtl. “They make no sense.”

“I wonder sometimes,” Pahtl admitted. “But even great ones need friends.”

“We don’t have to kill him,” Tarek said, the realization dawning on him. “I can keep him from ever bothering us again.”

“How?” Bachi asked, his voice small.

“I can use the blood magic to compel him. If I say to go back home and never think of us again, he’ll have to.” He looked to Tavi, whose face had gone dark. “The damage is already done, Tav. It’s nothing worse than I’ve already done, and it’ll keep us safe. Then… I don’t have to kill him.”

Tavi said nothing.

“Please,” Tarek said. “He’s a part of home, even if he’s a bad one. I don’t want to kill him. How am I any better than him if I do?”

Tavi ground his teeth together and gave a terse nod.

Tarek kept his face near Patl’s pelt as he pulled off his shirt gingerly and tore off a strip. “Tavi, will you bind his hands to his belt?”

Tavi took the strip, giving him a suspicious look. “Why?”

“I don’t think he’s going anywhere,” Bachi said.

“He will,” Tarek said. “I have to wake him to give him the command.”

“He will not wake,” the woman said with grim satisfaction. “Not soon. Maybe not ever.”

“Not on his own,” Tarek agreed. He thought back to the muddied memories he had of what Xochil had said when he’d been wounded by the Iktaka. Give him some of your blood; he’ll heal in a moment. It had happened when he’d first tasted Kanga’s blood, so he knew it to be true. What he’d begun to wonder was whether it worked in the other direction as well. We’re linked, Kanga and I. Will my blood work on him like his did on me? “Pahtl, I need you to stay by my face so I can’t smell the blood.”

“You shouldn’t get close to him,” Tavi objected.

“It will be all right,” Tarek said. “It’s the smell. I’m fine until the smell hits me.”

Tavi gave him a mistrustful look. Then, still holding the strip of shirt in one hand, he marched forward, balled up a fist in the fur on Pahtl’s haunches, and gave a good hard yank.

“Ouch!” the otter growled, baring his teeth at Tavi.

“Sorry,” the boy muttered. “I should have asked.”

“Rude cub.”

Tavi placed the hank of fur he’d pulled free on the strip of cloth and folded it over once to trap the hair inside. Then, without another word, he placed the wad of fur-filled cloth over Tarek’s nostrils, stringing the ends over his ears and tying them together at the back of his head like a poorly-placed blindfold.

Tarek breathed in deeply and smelled only his own sweat mingled with the ineffable scent of otter. “Perfect. You’re the smart one, as always.”

“Don’t forget it,” Tavi muttered. He pulled another strip from Tarek’s shirt and knelt quickly to bind Kanga’s hands. He kept his face turned away from Kanga’s, not wanting to look at the ruin of his face.

With that done, there was no point in hesitating. Tarek approached Kanga’s still form, wincing at the sight of his wounds now that the bloodlust had left him. He carefully wiped his fingers through the blood congealing on his chest and smeared the wetness onto the worst gash on Kanga’s brow, the one that split his left eyebrow in two. At his touch, the flesh shuddered and pulled itself together, leaving an angry red scar where before there had been a gaping wound.

The others gasped and murmured at the sight. The pale woman especially seemed affected, backing up with an expression of awe and fear as she whispered something reverently.

“That is a good trick,” Pahtl said.

Tarek treated the worst of Kanga’s wounds: first the caved-in spot in his skull, then the broken teeth, and finally the broken nose. He marveled to see the healing happen right before his eyes, even though the process left scars. There was something profoundly right about dabbing his blood onto something broken and watching it become whole. No magic that can do this can be all bad. He thought of his blind willingness to suck Kanga dry only moments before. But not necessarily all good, either.

Within half a fingerspan Kanga appeared to be merely sleeping. He was still bruised and scratched, and he had some unsightly scars, but he was no longer in imminent danger of death. Tarek used the shredded remains of his shirt to wipe away the worst of the remaining blood and then slapped him lightly on the cheek.

Kanga’s eyes flared open, and it took a moment for his eyes to focus on the figures grouped around him. When he saw Tarek, his nostrils flared and his hands jerked toward him, only to be stopped by the binding Tavi had made. Kanga grunted, and the fight went out of him.

“Ahh, wormshit,” he whispered. Tears filled his eyes. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

“We nearly did,” Tarek said.

Kanga looked away. “I was going to take your head back and show them you were dead. Then maybe they’d have to let me back.”

“Let you back?” Tarek asked.

“They thought you infected me, grub. Ever since you ran, the elders spat on me. Women avoided me. After Shad died, I should have been the new head of the hunters, but after a while the men wouldn’t even let me go with them.” His lip curled. “They’d burn anything I brought back. Blood-tainted meat, they said. My father wouldn’t let me sleep in our house anymore.”

Tarek rocked back on his heels. “You were the new me.”

“The only thing I could do was leave. Thought I could show them.” He closed his eyes, and tears streaked back toward his ears. “Just kill me.”

“No,” Tarek said. “I won’t. But listen to me, Kanga. You’re going to get up and walk out of here and you’re never going to look for me, or my brother, or any of us ever again. I don’t care if you go back home or somewhere else, but you’re going to go. Right now.”

Tarek felt Kanga’s emotions quail in fear of his magic, and he waited for the surge of power inside his veins that would enforce his will. He waited for Kanga to lurch to his feet and stumble out of the clearing, cursing and weeping as he went.

Nothing happened.

Kanga started to laugh. “I don’t have to,” he said. “I don’t have to!”

Tavi looked to Tarek, wide-eyed. “What happened?”

“I…” Tarek stuttered. “I don’t know.”

“Your magic doesn’t work!” Kanga crowed. “You can’t control me.”

“He tasted my blood,” Tarek said. “Could that be why?”

“It made Pahtl different,” Bachi reasoned.

“Pahtl, go climb that tree,” Tarek commanded.

Pahtl shuffled his feet. “I… do not have to do as you say anymore,” he said, sounding ashamed.

Tarek gaped at him. “You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Pahtl rubbed his paws over his face. “You tried so hard not to make me do anything,” he said. “I didn’t want to tell you it made no difference.”

“When?” Tarek demanded.

“When I started to speak your tongue. When I tasted your blood.”

Kanga’s laughter spent itself. He somehow managed to look like he was lounging at his ease even with his hands tied and his face streaked with his own blood. “Better kill me, Tarek. If you don’t, I’m going to get up and kill every last person here… and you can’t stop me.”

Tarek looked at Kanga’s manic, too-white grin and knew it to be the truth. A weight settled about his shoulders that he hadn’t felt since he’d had to kill the mist-hart. No matter how I try, it seems like killing is the only option left to me. Nothing else works. Is this who I am?

He sighed heavily. “Tavi, give me the knife.”