The Empty by Thom Reese Read Free Book Online Page A

your pleasure, I present—the wolf boy!”
    As the curtain rose, Dolnaraq was already pacing the length of his cage, his random tufts of fur on end, his nostrils flaring with the unfamiliar scents, his ears twitching to the multitude of sounds. There were gasps and whispers. A young mother drew her two small children close and backed away from the cage in fear. A bearded man raised a bottle of golden liquid above his head, hooting and cheering. Dolnaraq was confused, frightened. Why were these people here? What did they want of him? Did they plan to make him their evening meal? Dolnaraq understood some of what the slit-eyed man said. He’d mistakenly referred to Dolnaraq as a wolf. He’d said Dolnaraq was here for their pleasure. What pleasure could that be? The hunt? No. Dolnaraq was already captured. But, consumption. They would take pleasure in consuming Dolnaraq, for surely he would take pleasure in consuming them.
    In a rage of fright and anger, Dolnaraq growled, racing to and fro about his cage, swiping at the air with his curled fingers, cocking his head this way and that at the scents and sounds. The crowd applauded, but Dolnaraq did not understand this flurry of sound. Becoming more fearful yet, he found the sudden need to make water. The slit-eyed man stood just two feet in front of the cage, staring at the mesmerized crowd, nodding and grinning, so very pleased at what he’d done.
    There was laughter and hooting as the slit-eyed man cursed and stumbled over his own clumsy feet in an effort to escape Dolnaraq’s golden stream. His face red, his lungs heaving, the bulky man struggled to his feet, stumbling again and nearly knocking an old toothless woman to the sawdust ground. The crowd laughed some more. One man cried, “A toast to the werewolf!” Another responded, “I think he already toasted that fat carnie!” More laughter. More curses from the slit-eyed man. And the curtains suddenly fell, plunging Dolnaraq into darkness and causing the crowd to boo and hiss.
    * * * *
     
    Morning came and Dolnaraq had slept very little. The slit-eyed man, still reeking of Dolnaraq’s scent, ordered the “wolf boy” to go hungry. Apparently, this was retribution against Dolnaraq’s insult to his dignity. But Dolnaraq was not hungry and therefore did not miss the food. He was agitated, confused. What was the purpose of the crowd? What had they expected of him? He still wondered if he’d been an intended meal, and that only his attack—however flimsy and ineffective—on the slit-eyed man had delayed the feast. The sun was just inching over the horizon when Dolnaraq finally felt his eyelids becoming heavy and his limbs weak. Moving to the corner of his cage, he used his feet to scoot some straw together into a pile, and then lowered himself to the floor with a despondent moan. He understood so little of his situation and wished Tresset were here to guide him through this strange circumstance.
    The cat was there when he awoke. It was nestled beside him, under the crook of his arm. Orange-brown in color, it bore alternating dark and light stripes. Its eyes were wide and green, and its paws a snowy white. Dolnaraq snorted at the creature, but the thing simply meowed and nestled closer yet. Dolnaraq considered slaying it outright, but was not yet hungry enough to bother. He was sleepy and the feline was simply not that interesting. He fell back into slumber, allowing the diminutive creature to remain.
    The cat was still there three hours later when Dolnaraq awakened to the sound of the twinkle-eyed man. The small human wore gauze on his left cheek as a result of Dolnaraq’s attack. But this had not altered his manner toward the reyaqc. “Good day, my young friend,” he said as he arrived with a meager bowl of food. “It seems you’ve gained a new companion in the night.” The man smiled and cooed at the cat and generally played the fool in his attempt coax the creature to him. Finally sliding the food through the