Lunar Zenith

Chapter Six

Cassandra

Lune left shortly after we shook on the deal, though she promised to remain close by, not that she could return home anyways. As great as humanity sounds, it seems that a few of her pack members would rather remain as the feral beasts of the woods.

Keeping that in mind, I left home in the dawn hours, taking to the streets. With the windows dark and roads empty and wind whistling through the alleys, it felt more like a ghost town than anything. I made my way to Claire's house. I needed to speak to her, seek her advice. Claire was always the whimsical one, head over heels for all things fantasy. Unicorns, trolls, dragons, you name it, she probably knew it, and if there was anyone in this town who could cure a curse, it was her.

I stopped at Claire's front door, hand hovering in the air about to knock when I remembered that it was an absurd hour of the day. Nobody was going to answer, and if someone did, they would not be thrilled to see me. So I went around back instead to knock on her window.

Back pressed against the bricks of the house, I crept through the grass, a cat on the prowl, hoping the shadows would conceal my presence as a downwind would conceal a scent because, by Gods, if anyone caught me sneaking about—

"Cassandra, is that you?"

I yelped and spun around. Peter stood behind me, a shotgun hefted on his shoulder and a perplexed—and concerned—look on his face. I felt my cheeks heat up, and I was sure they were as bright as a radish.

"Uh, hi, Peter," I said.

"By the Gods' will, what are you doing here so late at night?"

"A-Actually, Peter, it's the early morning." The look on his face told me I did not help my case whatsoever. "Listen," I continued, "I really need to talk to Claire."

"Honestly, Cassandra, this seems like a bad time. Couldn't you wait until—"

"No!" Peter tilted his head. "Um, what I meant was," I said, rubbing the back of my neck, "this is urgent."

Peter puffed a sigh and shrugged his shoulders, turning on his heels. "Okay, whatever you say, Cassandra."

"Wait, Peter." I reached out and he looked back, first at me, then at the hand on my shoulder. I jerked my hand back with a nervous chuckle, tucking it behind my back. "Um, where are you going?" I asked.

"I thought you had urgent things to do?"

"Ah, sorry. I was just curious."

He cast me a sideways smile as if he knew I was stalling for more time with him. Yes, I know, I know. Lune was important, my top priority, but how much harm could a little time with Peter really do?

"Well, since you want to know so badly," Peter said, "I'm going on a hunt."

"Are you?"

"Yeah." He patted a hand on his trusty shotgun. "I'll catch a foul beast and become the hero of town."

"You're already a hero, at least, to me you are." Peter looked at me and raised his eyebrows. My eyes went round, and I slapped a hand over my mouth as my face lit up for the second time today. "Um," I stammered, "what I meant was that, um, that you are—"

"How about dinner tonight, Miss Anne?"

My jaw dropped. "Dinner? As in, like, just us?"

"You, me, and a well seasoned, charcoal roasted duck. So, what do you say, Cassandra? Would you like to join me for dinner?"

⥷۝⭃

Immediately after Peter's invitation, I banged on Claire's window like there was no tomorrow, and Claire, groggy-eyed and with a bedhead, drudged across the room to let me in.