Page 49 of Scarred Crown

“Yes. In action.” He seems excited whether it’s about watching the kill or securing me a rare sight, I’m not sure.

“Okay,” I agree. Carpe Diem.

He tears out of the village, listening to the conversation on the radio.

“Kafil, what did Bahati mean about not keeping Elena?”

He hesitates and then turns down the radio. “They work a farm together. Their children will likely have to work a farm as well. Many, many people here are employed by farms or harvest their own food. If Elena could not walk, she could not live.”

“You mean live here?” Or literally? My stomach clenches.

He meets my gaze in the mirror briefly. “Some give up their babies for adoption if they cannot care for them, some, like her mother-in-law, have other methods.”

Oh, God. He did mean that literally. I swallow. “Is that—is that common?”

“Not so much, no.” He shakes his head.

We drive in silence for a few more minutes, and then ahead, a large group of vehicles in a circular formation comes into view. The tall neck of the giraffe is visible, thrashing around, and everyone is glued to windows or leaning out of their popped-up roofs. My stomach rolls. I don’t know if I’ve got it in me to watch this.

“Will the lions get the giraffe?” I ask.

“It’s a hard kill,” Kafil says as we approach. “But if the animal is injured enough, best to put it out of its misery. Feed the pride. Not much of a life if it’s not going to get better.”

“Has Nick seen a kill yet?” A debate we had in high school surfaces in my memory.

“No, no.” Kafil shakes his head as we park the vehicle beside another. “Seeing a kill is not on his list.” He looks over his shoulder and smiles. “Thankfully. Seeing an animal, you can almost guarantee, but watching an animal hunt? Unpredictable and much, much harder.” He gestures to the calculated chaos happening in front of us. “This is special.”

We observe in silence for a few minutes as the lionesses take turns attacking parts of the giraffe, and it thrashes and turns in circles to avoid the onslaught. One of the giraffe’s legs is clearly lame, whether that happened before or during the attack is hard to say. The pride is relentless. They must sense they’ll win.

The first time the giraffe turns its wild, panicked gaze my way, I’m done.

Perhaps watching an animal die is a privilege, but with all these vehicles and cameras, the event has veered into spectacle. My gut instinct is to intervene instead of letting nature run its course. I want to scream at the lions to stop rather than rejoicing in their ability to get a full meal.

Perhaps Nick is right—I was born with a bleeding heart.

“I think I’d like to go.” A sudden sweep of vulnerability makes me almost weepy. I can’t bear witness to this—I just can’t.

“You don’t want to watch the end?” Kafil asks. “They’re close to getting it down. Once it’s on the ground, the battle is over.”

I shake my head. “No. It’s getting late. I’d like to go back to camp.”

Reluctantly, he starts the vehicle and reverses out of our prime spot and back onto the gravel road.

As though sensing my melancholy, Kafil says, “If the animal was injured and could not look after itself, it would have wasted away. A terrible death. Senseless. This way, the animal feeds the pride. It has a good death.”

“Is there such a thing as a good death?” I’m not just thinking of the giraffe, but I’m also pondering what he said about Elena, about the king’s terminal illness. Isn’t death in any form bad?

He sighs and catches my gaze in the mirror. “Sometimes death is a kindness when the alternative is worse.”

His words stay with me all the way back to camp.

Nicholas

When Julia comes back from visiting the village with Kafil, I can tell right away something isn’t right. While we haven’t exactly been best buddies the last week or so, she’s had no trouble trading barbs with me about almost anything that comes out of my mouth.

Instead of asking Julia what’s wrong, I seek out Kafil. There’s no way I’m allowing myself to get dragged down any deeper into my feelings where she’s concerned. I was sliding fast, and I’ve managed to throw on the brakes. Releasing them now is a mistake. But I can’t help wondering why she seems, not just distant, but sad.

“Did something happen today with Julia?” I mix myself and Kafil coffees outside the common area. He’s not allowed in the paying customer spaces, but I’ve talked him into a coffee at the doorway so I can get the scoop on Julia’s mood.