Aly Stowe
2
Ten years after the rise of Lord Isaac, Aly Stowe awoke to the tender and familiar thoughts of Zekyll. Aly’s small mouth slowly stretched and became a smile as Zek pushed her way through the door and put a paw upon her bed. The snow leopard sent pleasant thoughts toward Aly, and finally the nine-year-old girl opened her right eye, her smile still expanding.
“G’morning, Zek… how was hunting last night?” The little girl pushed herself off her pillow and sat up whilst receiving positive thoughts from the family leopard.
“Sounds great,” Aly said. “Oh, silly cat! You’ve made me hungry! C’mon, let’s go get some breakfast,” Aly slowly clambered out of her small bed. She extended her arm out and petted Zek’s warm, white fur. The leopard purred graciously and Aly laughed, beckoning her to walk down the hallway into the kitchen.
“Up already?” Auntie Clair asked as Aly and Zekyll arrived in the kitchen. They were instantly greeted with the calming aroma of bacon and eggs. Auntie Clair was stirring a boiling pot of tea over the fire in the other room.
“Yes’m,” Aly replied and looked at the delicious food that Auntie Clair had prepared. She took a wooden spoon and started dishing some up when her aunt said, “Aly, no. You know the rules…”
Aly frowned and looked at Zek whose charcoal black eyes stared right back at her.
“Auntie Clair, can I please have some bacon and eggs?” Aly asked in a sweet girl voice. Auntie Clair apparently wasn’t satisfied with the answer. Aly groaned and asked, “Auntie Clair, may I please have some bacon and eggs?”
Her aunt smiled and nodded. “Now you remember to ask for permission, Aly. We don’t need you getting into more trouble. Especially now. You’re uncle has been through enough without you getting caught doing something impolite.”
Aly nodded and looked mischievously at Zek, who smiled back. It was all too fresh in Aly’s mind of what had happened the night before last.
It hadn’t been her fault, really. It was that horrible kid, Maxwell, who started it. It was raining and Aly and Zek were outside, playing in the water. If it weren’t for Maxwell Hunt, they wouldn’t have gotten in trouble.
Aly could remember like it had just happened:
“What do you want?” Aly sneered as the boy approached her. Maxwell glared at her and came to a stop only feet in front of her. The rain seemed to pound harder on Aly's shoulders, who buckled her knees so she wouldn't fall over from the pressure.
“Why does it matter to you, you ugly little girl!” Maxwell retorted. Zek growled and crouched into a defensive position, ready to pounce when needed.
“Because, this is our turf! This is where we play, you dumb boy!” Aly said, desperately thinking of an insult, but nothing was coming up. Zek was, of course, sending her thoughts of rage and hoping to attack the boy.
“No, Zek. Not yet,” she whispered and looked up to Maxwell. He had bright red hair; freckles littered his nose and teeth that were crooked. He reminded Aly of a goat. A bright red goat.
Aly snorted and said, “Go away. This is our land.” Zek was itching for a fight, but Aly resisted giving in until the last possible moment.
“No. What if I wanna play here?”
Aly groaned and said, “Do you want to fight? Is that what you want to do?”
“Yeah!” Maxwell shouted, spraying spit all down Aly’s shirt but the rain quickly washed it away. The boy raised his fists, glaring at Aly.
“It’s two against one,” Aly said, backing up a step. Her voice started shaking as she said, “You’re not going to win. Especially with Zek on my side!”
Zek heard her name and perked up. She glanced at Aly before pouncing on the boy. Maxwell shouted in pain and cried, “Get this ugly cat off of me!”
“Zek, I never told you to pounce!” Aly shouted, running towards the snow leopard and Maxwell. The girl tried to send mental images to Zek, but they bounced off as if there was a barrier between their minds.
“Get – her—off!” Maxwell cried and looked from side to side, trying to find a weapon. There was a stick lying in the mud six inches from his head. Could he grab it?
“Oh, no you don’t!” Aly shouted, running to pick up the stick, but Maxwell already had it clutched in his hands. He took one big swipe at Zek, and smashed the stick into her side. She growled, but limped off of him.
“Bloody cat! Bloody… look what she did to me!” Maxwell scrambled to get to his feet. His arm looked like it had been massacred. There were scratches and nasty bruises, and there was a great cut in his shirt.
“Bloody… I’m telling father about this!” he turned to run away. “You’ll regret ever setting that bloody cat on me!”
It turned out that Maxwell did tell his father, and Mr. Hunt made Uncle Steven pay thirty-two pounds. It was all taken care of rather quickly. Uncle Steven had just received his money from work, and so he handed it all over. Afterwards though, Aly was more than punished. She wasn’t allowed to go outside at all. Aly was condemned to live inside the stuffy old house and she had to find some way to pay Uncle Steven sixteen pounds back; they had made an agreement that sixteen was half and that would be acceptable.
But sixteen pounds! Aly had never owned more than ten pounds in her entire life!
*
Aly set her plate of food down on the wooden table and pulled out a chair. Glancing down to Zek, she offered some eggs but the snow leopard refused. Aly received the notion that she was still full from hunting the night before.
Aly ate her food slowly, making sure that she ate with proper etiquette; Auntie Clair had made it quite clear that Aly was to grow up and be wealthy. Every time that Auntie Clair said that, it made Aly grow to hate rich people. If she were to be rich, Aly would have to eat like that every day, and she could not stand it.
Zek coughed out a hoarse laugh, reading Aly’s thoughts. The two girls smiled and Aly continued to eat.
Auntie Clair was stirring the tea again when she looked out a dusty window. “Oh!” she cried. “Steven is home. He’s too early. The tea isn’t done…” She quickly pulled the ladle out from the teapot and set it near the fireplace. Auntie Clair sighed and drummed her fingers against her long plaid dress. Her other hand was up on her forehead as she complained more and more about Uncle Steven's early arrival.
As the burly man strode to the door, Aly looked at Zek who looked just as uncomfortable as she did. They looked back to see Uncle Steve open the door and slam it shut. The noise seemed to echo throughout the small three-room house.
“Dearest, you’ve come home mighty early this morning,” Auntie Clair began, but then Uncle Steven cut her off. Aly looked at her uncle’s face: long black hair that went past his ears and a pair of deep brown eyes that glared down at her.
“Steven? What’s wrong, dear?” Auntie Clair asked.
“It’s that… that brat! Look at what she’s done!” Uncle Steven pointed a long, calloused finger at Aly, who didn’t speak. Her eyes were widened and her face softened.
“Wha –,” she began.
“Steven! How dare you speak that way! Hold your tongue!” Auntie Clair shouted and slapped him across his cheek. He roared and turned to his wife who backed away.
“We have no money! We have no bloody money because of that brat!” he shouted and then stormed off into his bedroom; Auntie Clair followed closely. Aly and Zek could still hear him shouting as they gave each other tearful looks.
“What do you mean I need to calm down?” he bellowed, shaking the rafters. Auntie Clair shouted something to him, but Aly stood up and beckoned Zek to follow her. Aly opened the front door, allowing a cool breeze to enter the house. As soon as they were outside, Aly whispered, “C’mon, Zek. We need to go.”
*
Ten years ago, Judge Isaac was accused of murdering the Prime Minister of England. The persecutions rose until the trial where Isaac was to be hung if proven guilty.
At the trial, Judge Isaac displayed the Prime Minister’s will, which clearly stated that Parliament was to agree on Isaac to be the new Prime Minister. Isaac’s brother in law, Joseph Whitner, happened to be a member of Parliament at that time, and persuaded the rest of the members that if Isaac were to become Prime Minister, the poor would most certainly not be a major flaw in the government any longer.
So, at the trial, Judge Isaac was declared innocent from all charges. Such a statement outraged citizens. It was clear to them that Isaac had killed the Prime Minister. But Parliament made sure that everyone believed that he was truly innocent by publishing a small book telling of Judge Isaac. Parliament agreed that he was to be the Prime Minister, and soon Lord Isaac’s reign of terror began.
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