Galatea lay watching the tigers come towards her. They wouldn�t reach the rock, or at least they never had before. In the distance, out in the pure blue sea, she could see an island. It was a small speck that held her gaze for hours at a time. She wondered at it because it was so far away, so remote and unknown.

The wind rippled over her naked body, and she stretched herself in the fading light of day. Her dark black hair fanned out on the flat stone and she felt an emptiness so deep that she wished she could sink into the rock.

Since Nero had died her island had become lonely. She longed for someone to converse with, to laugh with. Nothing brought her joy anymore. Life seemed muted and slightly out of focus.

Take the tigers for instance; she knew, logically, that they weren�t real. In all the years she had lived on the island there had never been any tigers. Why would there be any now? She had imagined them. That was the only possible answer.

The tigers were getting closer now. Their lithe, feline bodies shimmered in the dying sun. They paced forward with an air of eventuality. They were coming.

The water splashed and a reddish orange shape landed on the beach at the base of the rock. A large fish lay on the white sand. It gasped for breath as it wriggled in an attempt to get back to the water.

Galatea slid down from the rock to examine the struggling of the fish. As it jumped, the fading sun played across its scales, refracting rainbow hues that pierced her eyes. Using a piece of driftwood she poked the fish. The rainbow light vanished as the fish flopped away from the prodding stick, moving itself further from the water. It lay there as she watched it, and gradually ceased flopping. The only motion was the flap of its gills as it tried to breathe. Then it ceased all motion and gave up. Only the eye retained a semblance of life.

Galatea poked the fish a few more times, feeling sad that it had died. Why did it jump up onto the beach in the first place? Maybe some other fish was chasing it. Well why jump up on land? Better to be eaten fast than die slowly. She was angry at the fish for being so stupid, for ruining the end of her day. She was glad that the tigers would eat it when they got here.

The tigers. She whirled around to see how close they were. But they were gone. Had they ever been there? Where were they hiding? She dismissed these questions. Already the sky overhead was turning a deep violet, and the horizon held but the last vestiges of the pink sunset. She climbed back up on top of the rock and lay down to sleep. Rolling over, she gave one last look at the fish. It was gone. The tigers must have taken it. There was something wrong with that conclusion, but she could not quite decide what it was. Things would be clearer in the morning. With that she closed her eyes and was quickly asleep.

She gradually awakened while it was still dark. Nero leaned over her and whispered, �I have missed you dearest.�

She smiled but otherwise stayed completely still. She felt Nero stroke her cheek and considered opening her eyes. No, she must not do that. There was a reason not to, but she didn�t know what it was. Nero cuddled next to her and she fell back asleep.

She awakened again just as the light was beginning to fill the sky. She was alone on the bare rock. Nero had been there. He had come back. He hadn�t drowned. He had only gotten washed out to the other island in the distance. She was sure of these things. He must have gone to get breakfast. That was just like Nero, so kind and considerate. He would do anything to please her. She decided to wait for him to return.

This sounded like a good plan, but she quickly grew impatient and stood to go out looking for him. She looked over the edge of the rock to see which direction his footprints led but was surprised that there were none. A low rumbling sound behind her caused her to spin around. There, on the rock, sat the tigers. One was pacing and the other was lying down and watching her. The pacing tiger was alert and looked tense, even as he walked back and forth he retained the air of a coiled spring. The other tiger appeared to be as lazy as a tiger can appear to be. The lying tiger yawned and looked at her.

She suddenly felt like she was expected to say something. �Umm�Hello?� she ventured, feeling foolish for talking with beasts which most likely meant to have her for breakfast.

�Good Morning,� said the lazy tiger.

�How are you today?� she asked.

�Quite all right, thank you for asking. And yourself?�

�Actually I�m quite anxious for Nero to return.�

�Nero?� the lazy tiger said. His eyes darted momentarily to the pacing tiger.

�Yes, he just left to get breakfast.� Who had ever heard of a polite tiger?

�How nice. He is your mate?�

�Yes, this is our island.�

�Your island?�

For a polite tiger, he asked a lot of questions. �At least, its our�s by human standards,� Galatea amended.

�Quite,� said the lazy tiger, lifting a paw as if to forestall further comment. The fur of his coat rippled just above the shoulder as he moved. �I was under the impression that you were all alone here.�

�Nero has just returned,� she said adamantly.

�Has he?�

�I�m sorry, but I didn�t catch your name.�

The tiger chuckled. It was a strange sound, halfway between a purr and a growl. �How dreadfully rude of me, I don�t believe I introduced myself. I am Remus.� He bared his teeth in what Galatea took to be a smile.

�What about him?� she nodded toward the pacer, �Does he have a name? Does he even speak�

�Yes, just a moment.� Remus turned toward the other tiger. �Ela quer conhece sua nome.�

The pacing tiger gave Remus a blank look, then swung his large head to stare, unblinking, at Galatea with a light in his eyes that made her stomach curl. �Cesare,� he said with a strange accent. He resumed his plodding without waiting for a reply, halting every now and again to look at Galatea and lick his mouth in a way she found slightly unnerving.

�You see,� Remus said, �He speaks. It�s just that he doesn�t speak English.�

�What does he speak?�

�Portuguese.�

�Portuguese?� Galatea raised an eyebrow quizzically, not quite sure what to make of this.

�Yes.�

�Why would a tiger speak Portuguese?� Behind her, waves crashed on the beach.

�Because he�s from Brazil.� Remus replied in a flat matter-of-fact tone.

�Tigers don�t come from Brazil,� she said, quite sure that this statement was true.

�Tigers don�t generally talk either, but here we are. Incidentally he is from Brazil, even though tigers are not native to South America.� Remus� voice was again flat, but this time took on an air of condescension.

Up until this point Galatea had not considered the fact that she was talking to a tiger. How did this one know how to speak? Immediately after she thought of this she asked.

�How did you learn how to speak?� Remus responded.

�It�s rather rude to respond to a question with a question.� She was thrilled to have finally caught him at something.

�The point is that you don�t actually remember learning how to speak, and neither do I. I can speak and therefore I do speak, that is enough.�

�So why are you here?�

�I am here because you interest me. You have now sat on this rock for three days without leaving it. I have begun to wonder why.� His eyes rested on hers. They were deep eyes, the searched on finding something.

Cesare broke in, �Remus, eu tenho fome. Quero comer ela,� (He pronounced Remus�s name as hay-moos)

�Come um peixe. Eu esto falendo com ela agora,� replied Remus, rolling his eyes skyward.

�What did he say?� she asked.

�He said that he�s hungry.�

Galatea�s widened with fear once more and she felt the blood drain from face. Cesare�s pacing stopped as he looked her. She could see the wheels turning in his predatory brain and began to inch backwards toward the edge of the rock. Cats hated water, she thought, if she could only make it to the sea.

�Va agora Cesare!� Remus spat. His teeth bared in a way that was definitely not a smile.

Cesare turned and bounded down from the rock and back toward the trees. �Sua mae era uma cachorra, Remus,� he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the forest.

�He�s not going to kill me?�

�No, he�s not going to kill you.� Remus said, a small glitter in his eye made him seem almost amused.

�I saw a fish die yesterday.� Galatea blurted, anxious for Remus to be aware that she knew what death look like

Remus� head cocked slightly to the side as he regarded her. �A fish.�

�Yes, it jumped right up on the beach.�

�Strange behavior for a fish.� His head moved further to the side, causing him to take on the appearance of a confused puppy.

�No more so than a talking tiger.�

�Touch�.� He again showed his approximation of a smile.

�Why are you here?� she asked, finally getting to the question she had been meaning to ask all along.

�I already told you.� Remus frowned in a way that looked more human than his smile.

�Yes, but curiosity doesn�t really explain why you�re on this island,� Galatea said. The breeze whispered through the trees, causing ripples to appear like waves.

�Everything must be somewhere. We�re here.�

�But��

�Enough, I�ve grown tired of this conversation.� Remus shook his large head, like he needed to clear it of extraneous details.

�I feel confused.� Galatea�s head rocked forward to be cradled by her hands.

�That will be remedied soon enough.� Remus rose for the first time. His mouth opened in a yawn that showed his sharp white teeth and seem wide enough to swallow the world.

�It will?� The fear Galatea had felt crept back into her and she back to the edge of the rock that was furthest from Remus and closest to the water.

�Yes. You see, what we really needed to know is your use to this place. But as far as we can tell you have no use. You sit consumed with yourself and do nothing.� Remus was completely calm as he spoke, as if he were a judge handing down a sentence.

�Why did you need to know?� Galatea asked. She was more confused than ever.

�So we would know if you would be missed.�

A sharp pain seared the small of her back as she was knocked from the rock. Putting her hand behind her she felt a wetness there, along with five parallel marks. Looking up at the rock she saw Cesare and Remus gazing down at her. Staring up at the nearly identical cats, the scene seemed surreal. �You can�t kill me,� she said. Her brow furrowed as she struggled to find the reason of why this statement was true. She felt life draining out through the wounds in her back, and a reason came. �You said you wouldn�t kill me.�

�You�re not dead yet,� Remus replied, �and technically I said that I wouldn�t let Cesare kill you.� Jumping down, he came to stand next to her. �Just so you know that I�m a tiger of my word�� he said.

His head flashed down and her arms made a feeble attempt to keep his jaw from her neck. As her legs flopped and flailed the reddish blood caught the glint of the rising sun and threw the light in all directions.

As her vision faded, Galatea�s last sensation in the world was to hear Cesare�s low guttural snarl which preceded something she didn�t understand. �Voce quere os pernas ou os bracos?�

Remus didn�t answer. His mouth was full.

The sun was high in the sky over the small island. It lay sleepily and quiet, resting in the deep blue ocean. The bright sunlight shown down upon a woman lying at the land�s end, on a rock, just off a beautiful white sand beach. There were no marks on her flawlessly beautiful body, which appeared almost white against dark volcanic rock. Her hair lay radiating from her face, even darker than the deep gray of the rock. The scene would have been serene, had her face not been frozen by death, eyes wide open, in a mask of abject horror fixed over a deep and driving agony.

A bit of madness from my heart to yours,

Iron