5. Fishkiller

Dormas’ health deteriorated quickly. Felicia could barely look at it, but still wanted to visit every day. Thanks to one kindness from the dog she now had food, a roof over her head, everything. And here he was, in pain and with a half-working brain, slowly dying.

“You have to stop drinking,” she said again when they were alone. “I have surely not brought anything for you. Fonza gaf me some glasses, but I threw them in the river.”

Dormas didn’t react for the longest time. Then he whispered.

“Suppose, dear child, someone would tell you to stop doing the thing you liked doing the most … namely, saving animals with your witchcraft. Would you do it?”

Felicia stuttered. “What are you talking about? I am not a—”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry. I told the others to leave you alone and not enter my home unannounced.”

“But then …” Her body felt on fire. He knew all along. “Then you know I might be able to concoct medicine for you.”

“Wasted effort on an old man. Did you know dogs aren’t even supposed to get this old? The only reason I’ve been walking around for years with bad eyesight and a hoarse throat, is because our hospitals keep saving all of us!”

“Something we can fix as well. If you stop drinking.”

“Felicia, you know I don’t drink more than Fonza or the others. You should know better than to blame that—”

“The others also drink too much!” she yelled. All patients and healers turned around to stare at her. “Why … why …”

She shook her head; her world turned. She didn’t understand. Why did animals make such stupid decisions? Why did nobody think logically? Why did they so easily believe something that made no sense?

If God had truly created these animals, then he must be the dumbest of them all. Fonza now forced everyone to pray together, but while she mumbled something about a holy ghost or something, Felicia just mumbled her grocery list for her next medicine.

“We lie for you if you lie for us,” she said, her paw caressing Dormas’ warm and soft fur. “But what can we do if you lie to yourself?”

Dormas gaf her a weak smile, as if he wanted to be nice but hadn’t actually heard what she said. Then he fell asleep.

The sky had grown dark, the hour late. Felicia still wanted to test her next medicine tonight, for which she needed some unusual ingredients.

She followed the River for a while, looking for a yellow dot-shaped plant that needed a lot of water to grow.

Until she bumped into Fonza.

The fox lay between the blades of grass—a really annoying plant that recently arrived everywhere—unseen and unheard, with one paw on a dead fish. One she just snatched from the water, instead of buying it from Wilderness merchants like a civilized person.

And precisely below Fonza’s paws grew a patch of the yellow dot plants she needed.

“Annoying, is it not?” said a voice from above. Keeping her startled meow inside, she looked for the origin of the sound.

Aria jumped to a lower branch, matching her eyeline. “If you hadn’t known she was the fish thief, you’d have greeted her and simply asked if she could step aside.”

Felicia looked sour. “How long have you been following me?”

“Long enough. A young black cat who knows what alcohol addiction and its consequences are? Very interesting, yes, to the greatest healer in the world.”

She had to admit Aria was right. “If I hadn’t known how suspicious she was, I’d have honestly told her the flowers were for someone else. Without thinking it would make me suspicious.”

“But you do know all that. So now it’s annoying,” said Aria, curious as to what Felicia would decide.

“You don’t happen to grow this plant on your estate, do you?”

Aria shook her head. “I, too, have to explore half the river if I want to find them.”

Felicia prepared herself for a confrontation with Fonza, but first a question for Aria: “Why did you make Catia do all the nonsense treatments if you clearly do know your medicine?”

Aria winked, but it was an artificial playfulness. “Wouldn’t want people calling me a witch, now, would I?”

Fonza didn’t leave. Instead, her paw entered the river again, straight through a layer of filth, to grab the next floundering fish.

“Catia’s parents are very angry with me, though. So if you have any idea where Catia is, I’ll send them there.”

“Oh she sleeps at—”

Felicia stopped herself in time. Aria was best friends with all the elite in the city. Was this a trap? Was she just trying to make Felicia confess to being a witch?

Aria seemingly read her thoughts and threw her warm wings around Felicia’s shoulders.

“Annoying, isn’t it? The entire world punishes you for being honest and rewards lying and keeping secrets. Or, well, this part of the world. There’s another empire, Ottojon, which is growing in the south and has embraced magic instead. And Floria is, of course, still fresh, like an empty canvas yet to be painted with culture.”

Aria shook herself from her thoughts, bending the branch further. “But you are doing the right thing, exactly as the Book predicted.”

“The Book?” Her eyes went wide. “You don’t mean the Book of Meaning, do you? Bella’s Heavenmatter that—”

She had forgotten to whisper.

Fonza jumped to her feet and showed her sharp teeth.

“I give you one chance to explain yourself.”

“I wanted to pluck those yellow flowers,” Felicia said rapidly.

“What? Can’t a Wise Owl sit in this specific tree at night?” Aria said more casually.

“You are spying on me! Whispering about me!”

“Ah, of course,” Aria said with a smile. “I had forgotten that whispering was forbidden by law.”

Felicia frowned. “Is that really …”

“No, of course not! Dear fox, go home and stop killing fish, or I will report you to the Crows.”

Fonza, instead, decided to be stupid.

She barked hoarsely and attacked Aria. The owl put on different glasses and elegantly flew away. This angered Fonza even more. At full speed, she could climb partially into the tree, but not high enough to snatch a feather or leg from the owl.

Felicia saw her opportunity to grab her flowers and get away. She cut off the yellow dots with her nails and placed them in her pouch.

Then the Crows came to check out the noise. Aria had to dodge the rapid spear formation the Crows used most of the time.

Fonza immediately fled, hidden in the high grass. She put on a panicked voice to yell: “The fishkiller! There they are! Save yourself!”

Felicia looked down. Five dead fish, half-eaten, lay around her feet. The Crows had no trouble deciding who was the Fishkiller.

This time, she had been stupid.

“Listen! It’s not—”

The dove for her and pecked into her skin until Felicia forgot what was up and what was down. Beaks tried to snatch the scruff of her neck and take her away, but a strong wing batted them aside.

“She is innocent,” Aria’s voice said.

“Yes, that is exactly what a witch would do,” said Fonza from a distance. “Enchant an owl to say—”

“It was my,” said the owl, putting down her glasses and raising her wings in defeat.

“Aria?” Felicia could barely breath after the attack from the crows, but still reached for her safe wings. “W-Why are you doing this?”

Deep down, she knew why. The good animals do not lie to protect their group or themselves. They lie to protect strangers in need. The only kind of lie she might support, with her mind, not with her heart.

She meowed ugly, like nails scratching on chalkboard, as Aria was arrested and taking away under the accusation of being a murderer.

Fonza threw her fox tail around Felicia’s shoulders and whispered all kinds of kind words, as if she was worried about her own baby child.

“Sorry for calling you a witch, little pussy,” her sweet voice lied. “I’ll make it up to you. A tasty fish dinner to recuperate from this shock.”

It took all possible restraint for Felicia not to poke Fonza’s eyes out, but play along.

“Thank you, neighbor. You’ll have to treat me really well to forget this shock.”