Strange Fruit

**Graphic content warning**

Although the rain had stopped, the morning dawned foggy and cold. Cita was grateful for the extra layers their hosts insisted he needed, especially after walking across the slopes in the fog for what felt like hours. The high-necked woolen tunic and fingerless gloves didn't interfere with his shooting. 'Plus, they change the morning from intolerable to unpleasant.'

As the fog began to burn off, Cita raised his head to take in more of his surroundings. Brown grass stalks drooped under the weight on dew. Grasshoppers sang to greet the sun and crickets responded. Birds called warnings as they approached and rustling in the vegetation told of small animals scurrying away.

Cita glanced at the healer from the corner of his eye. She wore a woolen shawl wrapped tight over a woolen gown. 'She's really quiet today.' The hair on the back of his neck rose.

Bilal had swapped his wrapped-shirt for a thicker version with separate wraps for his arms. But he hadn't escaped the flame sorcerers' lair unscathed.

Cita grinned.

"Bilal, did you know there's … something on your shoulder," Cita snickered.

A small black kitten glared green daggers at him. It stretched, yawned, and moved to bury its head in Bilal's braids.

The youth peered at the kitten and reached out to stroke it. It hissed, arching. The youth recoiled and shared a wide-eyed look with Cita. He shifted to Cita's other side.

Bilal reached up to scratch the kitten. The kitten settled with a fierce rumbling purr.

"She would not leave me be. The brothers said she was half-feral, and would not allow anyone to approach. She was in the stable when we arrived and followed me." Bilal gave a one-shouldered shrug, careful not to jostle his passenger. "I am surprised you didn't see her before." He slipped through the damp grass.

Cita stretched his stride to keep up. "You fed her, didn't you?" Cita teased. "That was your mistake!" He checked his bow, slung at his side, and his quiver, to ensure they hung free of encumbrance.

"Well, maybe," Bilal laughed. "But it is not so bad to have a little one while journeying. And the brothers could not lure her to them even with jerky. They said she was meant to come with me."

"Do you have a name for her?" Cita asked, stretching a finger up to scratch the kitten. His efforts were rewarded with a hiss and a tail lash. The youth snickered.

"I am not sure. Names are important. It would be best to get to know who she is before giving her one."

"It's foolish to take a young kitten into the wilderness," Rashida offered from where she led her packhorse, Aspen. "But she … has a certain appeal. And she's clearly attached to you."

"Yes. Blue Jay said he did not think she would stay in the steading now that she had found someone she claimed as her own. He had some interesting perspective on her origins, actually." Bilal scowled.

"Come on — you can't leave us hanging like that!" Cita nagged him to continue the story.

"He said her mother is one of their barn cats, but she was the only kitten in the queen's litter. There had been a strange black tom … visiting, for lack of a better word, when the queen was in season. The tom disappeared right after, but the kitten looks identical."

**Just a black cat?** the youth scoffed.

"So, just a black cat?" Cita echoed. "Where did the tomcat come from?"

"Black with a white star at the base of her throat. You cannot see it unless she lets you. And they did not know where the tom came from. He may have followed one of the herds or the trade caravan."

"Huh. Maybe. Well, she's cute enough." Cita conceded. "So, are we trying to find traces of the swarm, or what? Would there be anything left after the rain?" He checked his bow.

"It is unlikely at best," Bilal acknowledged. Golden eyes caught Cita's fidgets. He didn't comment. "No, the brothers gave me directions to Southwallow, the village their visions hinted at. We do not have any other leads, so that is where we are headed. Also, if we go to the village, we should be able to notify Baron Dorf's enforcers. They get … cranky about trespassers, but are more accepting if you announce your intentions."

Cita looked ahead. A dark forest loomed. "We're going through the forest, right?"

Bilal nodded.

"Betcha I can beat you there!" Cita took off at a run.

"Cita —" Bilal called after him.

Cita didn't look back as his muscles stretched and his feet slapped the muddy ground. His ankle twinged, but he refused to slow. With one hand, he held his bow and quiver, and the other kept his pack's strap from slipping. Before he got to the treeline, his breath was harsh. Pressing on, he reached the first of the trees and leaned a hand on a smooth trunk, panting.

"I … am so … out of shape …" Cita gasped. "It's like … I've been sitting … on my butt." He chuckled. Slowly, a feeling of uneasiness crawled up his spine. He stood straight, looking around.

The youth lurked well back from the treeline, shaking his head. Bilal and Rashida were still some distance away, too — Bilal had chosen not to abandon the healer. The trees, standing in eerily symmetrical rows, dripped moisture in the foggy morning's half-light.

Cita took a careful step back from the forest. Then another. He was vaguely aware of Bilal breaking into a run and Rashida hurrying Aspen along.

'But in the forest … there's nothing wrong.'

The air was still.

'But there wasn't any wind on the plains this morning, either.' Cita frowned. 'The trees … they're just trees, right?'

They stood in rough rows, with a few smaller trees fighting for space in the gaps between established giants. Nearby, a beaten path led into the woods.

"It's just a normal forest," he tried to convince himself. "That's a line of maples. And that's a line of oaks …"

"What is it?" Bilal asked. The kitten's claws were latched into his shirt, and her fur stood on end as she lashed her tail.

"It's … nothing," Cita responded. "Just a case of the heebeegeebees. I'll … well ... maybe that game trail would be the easiest way through the forest?"

Bilal frowned at Cita and then at the forest. He stroked the kitten, soothing her.

"Nothing? Where are the birds? Where are the squirrels?"

The bird and insect sounds had ceased.

Cita pretended he didn't hear Bilal's questions as Rashida caught up. The youth reluctantly followed her.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"It's nothing," Cita insisted.

"Hmm." Bilal placed the kitten on Aspen's pack and gripped his glaive in both hands. "Be watchful."

Rashida humphed and tightened her grip on her staff.

The youth pulled out daggers — one longer than the other. A stone glinted in the pommel.

Cita glanced at the youth, unslung his bow, and plucked an arrow from his quiver.

They pressed into the forest. Cita peered around. The open plains had been gloomy with their fog and chill.

'This, though … this is desolate.'

**It's not safe here. Why won't you remember?** The youth's desperate eyes met Cita's.

Cita jerked back. 'Your eyes … they're the same color as mine?'

The youth shook his head and turned back to the forest. The overhead branches cast skeletal shadows in the dim light. They writhed as Cita paced down the trail.

'It's an optical illusion.'

**You think so?** The youth rolled his shoulders. Cita felt as tightly strung as his bow.

A light trill rang through the still air.

Cita whirled toward the sound, setting arrow to string and drawing in a fluid motion.

Bilal checked where the sound hadn't come from, monitoring all sides.

The youth braced at Cita's back, swearing softly. Cita scanned the forest ahead of him, trying to pinpoint a target.

He hesitated when he saw a small blackbird with its head cocked to one side. It stared back at him with beady eyes. Then it plucked a seedling from the path and flew off.

'That's not much of a threat.' He eased his bowstring back to a resting position.

"Could it be one of the Infected?" Cita asked as Bilal came back around to view the bird as well.

"It is not impossible, but unlikely. Birds are seldom among the Infected, and those few that I have seen have struggled with flight. The Infection seems more of a ground-borne thing." Bilal pointed at a dark squirrel glaring down at them from another tree. "We will want to watch, as it is possible that we will find the Infected here. But at least there are some signs of life. The animals near the edge may have been startled into hiding."

"That's not very reassuring," Rashida added. "If they're not scared of us now, why would they have been hiding from us?"

"Hmm," Bilal said. "Perhaps someone's antics startled them into thinking a predator was near." Bilal grinned at Cita, who flushed and looked down. "Do not worry about it. We still need to keep watch, and it does no harm to practice an alert."

The youth continued scanning the forest, shaking his head again. Cita saw his hands quiver as they clung to his daggers.

"Cita?" Golden eyes pierced Cita.

Remembering what Bilal had said, Cita nodded and stowed his arrow in his quiver. Hesitantly, he re-slung his bow and checked that it lay clear again.

Bilal collected the unhappy kitten from the packhorse, and they journeyed deeper into the forest. The trail was straight except when it twisted into another row of trees, leaving them with an unobstructed view ahead most of the time.

Despite Bilal's assurances, Cita's back still crawled.

"Bilal," Cita hesitated. "Are … do forests normally grow in rows?" Cita eyed the peculiar arrangement.

"Forests are rare around here, but those that exist," Bilal paused, seeming to search for the right word. "They show signs of ancient cultivation. Closer to the mountains, it is not so."

"Oh," Cita said. 'Ancient? We're walking in an irrigation channel.'

The increasingly common trills and chirps, with accents from scolding squirrels, caused the youth to twitch. He twisted, trying to follow each sound in turn. Cita's breath came short and fast.

**Not safe not safe not safe,** the youth chanted, spinning as he walked.

A faint ringing started in Cita's ears. Red haze dusted the edges of his vision.

"Bilal …"

Before he could complete the thought, a small furry bundle had been placed in his hand. Hastily, he cupped both hands.

"Hold her for a bit," Bilal ordered. Cita blinked down at the furious black kitten who glared up at him, tail lashing like a flogger's whip. Tiny claws pricked his palm through his gloves. Rashida smirked at him.

"Uh … are you sure that's a good idea?" Cita asked.

"She needs to get used to you. You should get used to her, too. It is a good thing."

Cita continued walking, gingerly holding the hostile feline. He offered a single finger to the beast and attempted to scratch her chin.

She hissed in annoyance as this jostled her impromptu nest.

Cita withdrew his finger and focused on carrying the kitten to her satisfaction.

The youth peered over his shoulder. The feline matched his stare.

**She's not going to save us. She's like one of those snooty solos in an opera. Fancy, but useless.**

The cat hissed at him, lashing her tail.

"Aria could be a good name," Cita offered.

His ears still rang, but it remained a background hum. He tried to slow his breathing and ignored the ringing. He focused on the increasing sounds of nature. There were all sorts of bird calls and chattering squirrels.

"It sounds like someone set up the mother of all backyard bird feeders," he commented.

**No. That's no bird feeder.** The youth started spinning around again. **We need to get out of here.**

"That's not helpful," Cita grumbled. He sniffed. 'Did … did someone fart?'

Blank golden eyes fell on Cita before continuing to scan the forest and trail.

"Perhaps if you would explain your strange comments, young one, the journey together would pass easier," Rashida suggested. Her tone struggled toward civility.

"Huh? Like what — a backyard bird feeder?" Cita shrugged. "It's ... well ... a thing that people set up to … feed birds. In their backyard."

Bilal looked at Cita again, and this time his eyes danced with laughter.

"I don't know how else to explain it!" He covered his nose. 'It's worse now — maybe someone's been dumping garbage?'

Bilal and Rashida both laughed, while Bilal watched the trees.

"At least you tried," Rashida concluded, still chuckling.

**Oh yeah, yuck it up,** the youth said. **That'll fix things.**

"Yeah, okay," Cita muttered. "And don't call me 'young one.' I'm not a kid."

This set Rashida off again, this time laughing until tears rose in her eyes.

An earth-shaking peal of laughter rattled through Cita's head. He winced, looking around. 'What is —?'

**Crap,** the youth moaned. **That's done it.** He faded from sight like a guttering flame.

"Hey!" Cita called, looking around.

Bilal smiled as he adjusted his grip on his glaive.

"Peace. I suspect she thinks of me as a young one as well," he offered.

"You? You're … ancient!" Distracted, Cita scoffed at Bilal. "There's no way she thinks you're young!"

The kitten growled, displeased by the rowdy banter. Cita quieted and offered another finger's scratch. The kitten refused his advances again.

"I am not so old as all that," Bilal answered. He continued in a more somber tone. "It is odd how many birds and squirrels we can hear now. And it is uncommon for carrion to linger long enough to be so ... fragrant." He pressed a hand to his nose.

"Carrion?" Cita asked.

"Death happens in nature," Rashida said. "I'm sure it's nothing."

The trail jinked around a fat tree and slipped into the rut between two rows of maples with a few battered, crimson leaves clinging to the branches. Bilal drew to an abrupt halt as it straightened again.

Aspen jerked to a halt as well, stopping Rashida as the horse pulled back against her leadline.

Cita looked up from the kitten.

At first, his mind couldn't translate the image his eyes were sending. Gradually, it came into focus.

Dozens of inky birds and squirrels perched on large objects. The objects — 'no,' Cita corrected himself, forcing his eyes to see what was before them — the people hung from the trees along the trail, necks wrapped with green vines growing downward from the sturdiest branches. Black flies cloaked the corpses, trying to preserve their dignity while the beasts tore bits off. Dark rabbits clustered beneath, devouring the pieces that fell as the animals above squabbled over choice morsels. The smell wormed into Cita's nose, as inescapable as the reality of the forest. The feeding beasts pursued their meal with such vigor that the bodies swayed and danced in a nonexistent breeze.

"Strange fruit," Cita murmured through the ringing in his ears. He leaned to the side of the trail, dropped the kitten, and retched.