It wouldn’t take much for a crowd to push it over and just walk on top of it. Yet the crowd respects the boundary as though it’s electrified.

Then I see that it is, in a way.

Humans patrol the fence from the other side and poke a metal rod through whenever they see someone getting too close. When someone is poked, there’s a zap sound along with a blue spark of electricity. They’re using some kind of cattle prod to keep people away. All of the prodders except one are grim-faced men who show no emotion as they patrol and occasionally prod.

The female prodder is my mother.

I bang my head against the steering wheel when I see her. It doesn’t make me feel any better.

“What’s wrong?” Raffe asks.

“My mother is here.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Probably.” I drive forward a few feet as the line moves.

My mother is more emotional about her job than her fellow prodders. She reaches as far as the fence will let her to shock as many people as possible. At one point, she even cackles as she zaps a man for as long as she can before he staggers out of her reach. She looks for all the world as though she’s enjoying inflicting pain on people.

Despite appearances, I recognize fear in my mother when I see it. If you didn’t know her, you’d think her zest comes from malice. But there’s a good chance that she doesn’t even recognize her victims as people.

She probably thinks she’s trapped in a cage in hell surrounded by monsters. Maybe as payment for a deal made with the devil. Maybe just because the world conspires against her. She probably thinks the people who get close to the fence are actually monsters in disguise stalking her cage. Someone has miraculously given her a weapon to keep those monsters at bay. So she’s using this rare chance to fight back.

“How did she end up here?” I wonder out loud.

Dirt smears her cheeks and greasy hair, and her clothes are ripped at the elbow and knees. She looks like she’s been sleeping on the ground. But she does look healthy and fed, with rosy coloring in her cheeks.

“Everyone on the road ends up here if they don’t get themselves killed first.”

“How?”

“Beats me. You humans have always had some kind of herding instinct that seems to bring you together. And this is the largest herd around.”

“Town. Not herd. Towns are for people. Herds are for animals.”

He snorts rudely in response.

It probably is better to leave her there instead of trying to take her with me inside the aerie. It’s hard to be stealthy with my mother around. That could cost us Paige’s life. There’s not much I can do to ease her torment when she’s like this. The people will eventually learn to stay away from her while she patrols the fence. She’s safer here. We’re all safer with her here. For now.