The Word for Friend is Death

Short Story

Note: Not suitable for younger children.

Set two years before the events of SHADOW OF A DEAD GOD, nine-year-old Sereh must find a way to save her father from a deadly threat.

The Word for Friend is Death

A Short Story in the World of Mennik Thorn

Monna’s cat is hunting moths again.

She stalks them through the dark, eyes fixed, body poised, then pounces. She misses, of course. She hasn’t learned how to hide in the shadows yet. It’s all right, I tell her, although I don’t say it out loud, because Monna would think it was strange, and some people think I’m strange already. You’ll get there. I didn’t know how to at first, either.

Monna is ten, a year older than me, but you would never guess it. I think the world is different for her. She’s never watching out. You wouldn’t even need to hide in the shadows to sneak up on her. I sometimes wonder if the dangerous things in Agatos don’t see her because she doesn’t see them. That would be weird. But I like her. I like her cat. Each time it hunts a moth, I wait, sending it my silent encouragement. One day.

We’re in a small courtyard on the edge of the Warrens. Monna isn’t supposed to come into the Warrens. Her parents think it’s dangerous, but that’s silly. We’re hardly into the Warrens at all, and no one comes here. Anyway, she’s with me.

I like it here. The summer has ended, and wind-autumn has begun, but even when the wind blows up the Erastes Valley and the rain comes in from the sea, it’s sheltered here. There is a pottery oven just behind the wall. We can sit up against the wall and feel the heat through the stones.

Monna has only had the cat for a week, but it follows her everywhere. I gave it to her. That’s how you make friends. That was what Dad told me. I didn’t believe him, but it worked, so he must know what he’s talking about.

Dad is out working, of course, like he does every night. He calls it working, but I know what he’s really doing. I don’t mind. The city is a thief, if you’re from the lower city; it takes everything from you. Uncle Nik said that, and I think I know what he means. What Dad does is just balance.

Continue reading this story by subscribing to Patrick Samphire’s Newsletter.