Page 29 of Ruby
The resonance pulls at something inside me, but the Bitch stays firmly in place. That regret is especially what is so suspicious about him. The emotion makes no sense in this context. It makes me think I am keeping him from some ulterior goal, more than just slowing him down by asking him to fucking explain.
“Take me to her,” I sing, my melody betraying my distrust.
Sometimes ordering someone to do the exact thing they want is the only way to wrest back control.
He trills a happy sound and he leads the way. I blink when I see the disordered and broken feathers along his back, the green liquid making my lip raise again. A flightless bird-salamandar-man? My day has been beyond odd.
I trudge after him, my eyes darting around and my mind going back to its usual mode of trying to think of five things at once.
Does he have a name? If he tells me his name, would it be a beautiful melody or a plain song? Why do I even care? And why is my body running hot?
I have nothing but time and an endless curiosity about my environment, even though everything at the moment is probably trying to kill me. It does seem unlikely that he’d be leading me to some kind of nest as most birds do not make their nests on the ground. The ones I can think of on Earth are going extinct.
I snort. Where are we going? He could be a devil leading me straight to hell and I’d still be wondering if the way to hell is truly paved with flowers. I don’t think that would even scare me much. After all, I was birthed by a Witch. I can handle a devil.
With a sharp shake of my head I try to contain the galloping of my thoughts.
My mind settles back on the Witch.
The last thing I heard from her was about an audition that I had to go for in the afternoon. I wonder how she’ll react when she finds out I’m no longer there to be her cash cow.
“Straya korova,” I mutter.
An old cash cow.
Would she freak out? Call the police? Would she talk to the press and cry about what a worried mother she is?
Just the thought of her losing her mind makes me want to cackle in joy. Instead, I hum out the resonance that carries that emotion. It catches the uncanny hearing of the birdman, and he stops in his tracks, putting a firm hand to his mouth.
My eyebrow raises. I really don’t like to be shushed. His stumbling footfalls are far louder than that little hum.
“I quiet,” I sing under my breath.
His eyes bore into me, but he doesn’t say anything. He might have a valid reason to be concerned about how loud we are, but I will not allow him to disrespect me. I’ve had enough of that already.
Still, I keep any more humming to myself and pad behind him nearly silently. If we get caught, it will be because of his stumbles, not me losing my damn mind and fucking humming about it.
The scenery around us remains the same. Tall, large trees with foliage that blocks our vision. With him being so much taller, I’m sure he can see better than I can but even the purple grass to me is a forest.
Even if I climbed down from the tree somehow, navigating this by myself would’ve been impossible.
It makes the Bitch mask slip a bit and I stare at my feet as they weave among roots, trying to figure out what other mask might help right now. None of them are as practiced as that one. None as strong and I need that right now. But the Bitch doesn’t exactly endear people to me.
I have much to be grateful for, yet I’ve only given him skepticism. It’s the same thing I did to my therapist; the one person I paid to help me get better. Even now, I regret not thanking her.
And so, I raise my head to say something to him, only to realize that… he’s gone.
Quickly turning around in the dense foliage, there’s no sign that he’s even been there. Did I stray? Did he leave me behind? Was he a figment of my imagination all along? Am I trapped? Is this a simulation?
No, that’s fucking stupid Ani, I chide.
But what happened? Why? Each question makes my mind race to play the scenarios out and they weave together in an ever-increasing jumble of possibilities. Of fears.
“Szhe’ka, not like,” I chide in a staccato of fear-induced anger.
Four heartbeats. Then five. Six… Still no answer. I spin, slowly, heart pounding as I realize I’m not even sure exactly which way we came from, let alone where we were going.
“Szhe’ka?” I sing out again, voice shaky enough to distort the harmonics, throat tightening more and more by the second.
