Page 111 of Ruby
“Who’s Rannek?” I ask.
She tilts her head, hands still busy with fish, toward the unassuming purple male, who is currently hovering over Szhe’ka like he wants something, but doesn’t know how to ask.
“Oh. He’s the construction artist. You want me to help him build?” I ask. “Look at you, delegating.”
She smirks. “You offered.”
I look over at him, his posture letting me know the Bitch would absolutely relish eating him alive. My lips turn up as I imagine myself instead helping someone so clearly unassuming create more of the beauty surrounding us.
It’s a thrilling thought. To create an art that’s both useful, and far more impactful than anything I ever made on a screen.
“I accept,” I tell her, grinning.
The lake shimmers beside us. The air smells like smoke and water and something new. For the first time in a very long time, I’m not performing.
I’m participating. And it feels… good.
41
Szhe’ka
I feel an odd tickling sensation behind me and whirl around. My wing stump hits the purple creature I have come to learn is Rannek, who has an odd look on his furred face.
“What do?” I sing, then remember to use the harsh language of the orange beast and repeat myself.
“You had an insect on you,” Rannek says before scurrying off, large shoulders rounded forward like I am about to attack him.
I shake off the odd exchange and head to find higher ground so I can continue my watch.
Azoeul has not returned.
The sun is lowering toward the lake, staining the water in gold and bruised purple, and still there is no sign of him. No flicker of white and brown through the trees. No soft disturbance in the brush that would mark his speed.
He should have been back by now.
I sit on the outermost branch of one of the lake trees, talons digging into bark, watching the tree line where he disappeared this morning. My plume—what remains of it—stirs in the wind. The burned feathers itch as they grow back, a phantom sensation layered over the more pressing ache of my fear.
He is fast. He is capable.
But the forest is vast, and the hunters are relentless.
Below me, laughter drifts up from the shoreline.
Ani.
I look down.
She is sitting cross-legged on a flat stone near the water, her new wings half-furled behind her. The blue-green catches the light when she shifts, the red flashing when she gestures. She is animated, speaking quickly, hands moving as she tries to explain something to Ree.
Ree listens, head tilted, expression focused but softer than it once was.
They are… comfortable.
Thivoll stands a short distance away, pretending not to listen while very obviously listening. His tail flicks when Ani laughs.
She is happy.
It is a simple observation. One that should soothe me. Instead, something tightens in my chest.
