“You are the second person,” she replies, licking her fingers. Irial was the first. She looks at the pot on the flames hopefully before turning her attention to the Meow. “That’s why I don’t trust you.”

He grins at that and shrugs, the mirth fading from his face. “Kindness doesn’t take much. Besides, you remind me of my own siblings.”

“Do you have many?”

“Oh yes. I have fifteen. Eight sisters and seven brothers.”

Croi gapes at him. That’s a lot of Meows.

He notices her shock and laughs. “Catkins always have large families.”

“I didn’t know.” Croi suppresses the spurt of envy his words evoke. Where are the people she belongs to? Does she have siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, an entire family? How does it feel to have so many people love you? See you? Recognize the sound of your voice? Know your name?

“Where are you from, kitten?” He casts an eye over her, and Croi tenses. But his face doesn’t change; no expression of disgust mars his features. “And, this may be a rude question, but what kind of kin are you? I can’t tell.”

He’s not the only one.

“I thought I was a dragon,” she says sadly.

“You weren’t jesting about that?” The boy sounds startled.

Croi gives him her fiercest look. She wouldn’t joke about her potential identity.

“You don’t know what your parents are? Who brought you up?” His concern is like a balm. Croi soaks it in.

“I…” She hesitates before taking the plunge. “I grew up on the other side… in the human world.”

He doesn’t reply and Croi peeks at him. A frown has marched itself to the center of his forehead and set up home there. It looks wrong on him.

“You came from the human world? Really?” His disbelief couldn’t be more obvious if it stood up on a table and sang out loud.

“I don’t care if you don’t believe me,” Croi mutters.

“I thought all doors to the human world were locked,” he explains himself. “How did you enter? What is the human world like?”

“I followed the magick.” Croi shrugs. “The human world is very much like this world except for the humans.”

“What are humans like? Are they really monsters? Do they really have no magick?”

Croi thinks of the humans in the city. “We’re all monsters in some ways,” she says softly.

The boy stiffens, and a dark look slips into his eyes. He says nothing, but somehow Croi doesn’t think he disagrees with her words.

“Who brought you up?” he asks again, changing the subject. He’s very curious, for someone who hasn’t even told her his name. Not that Croi has told him hers, either.

“I don’t want to say,” she replies.

He shrugs. “You can keep your secrets, but I’d like to know why the person who brought you up didn’t tell you what kind of kin you are.”

“I’d like to know that too. I asked her many times but she refused to answer. Perhaps she couldn’t. Maybe she was bound not to.” Croi shakes her head, not wanting to think about the Hag anymore. “Is the food done?”