Page 135 of The Shape of Monsters
“Come in,” Iriset yells back. Eliri’s eyes drift shut, and for a long moment she stops breathing. “Eliri!” Iriset snaps, slapping her lightly against the cheek. “Talk to me. Where’s your diagnostic mesh?”
River shoves the door open and rushes over. An drops to ans knees and doesn’t hesitate before gathering Eliri across ans lap. “Eliri,” an says with hushed fear.
“Fine…” Eliri murmurs. “Not sur—surprised.”
“Where’s the healer? Or the diagnostic mesh?” Iriset demands. “I don’t know what’s wrong. Eliri won’t say.”
Someone who came in behind River turns and rushes back out. Good.
Eliri suddenly gasps a breath. “River,” she says, and a smile pulls at half her mouth. “Look, look.” The chimera lifts her hand, fingers splayed, lacking one. “Bones. My—my—”
Sweat pops along Eliri’s upper lip and her hairline. She’s struggling to breathe. Gasping, almost choking as if they’re surrounded by poisonous smoke. But it’s only air! Iriset gets up, stumbles back. She can find the fucking mesh. Or no—she should get back down there and just try to fix it. But how can she go in without knowing the problem? This isn’t how her opal eye works. She can see the residual design forces in and around Eliri, below her from the array, but they seemfine. Good, even! “Eliri, what iswrong?” Iriset demands, fear sizzling ecstatically up and down her body.
But Eliri raises her hand and puts it on River’s face, where tears drop fast down ans cheeks. “River, River,” Eliri whispers. Her lips are turning blue. “Is Eliri lighter now? Can River let go?”
River cups her hand to ans jaw and says, “Eliri was never too heavy for River to hold.”
And that’s it. Eliri the Adept Hand doesn’t breathe again.
Not for everyone, but for enough
It’s raining when Lyric arrives at Rivermouth fortress, and he stands in it, listening to the heavy tapping on his umbrella while waiting for admission. The earthquake of the hour shudders through the crater city, lasting several full minutes. The shield gates of Rivermouth cannot be opened (or closed) during a quake.
Lyric tilts his head as the tone of the rain changes, glancing at the pale light on the underside of the umbrella. It’s made of several long slats of godgrass, with simple strands of treated string between them. When extended, a thin ecstatic net fizzes open from glass design buttons at the end of each slat and at the cap of the pole. Rain hits the net but slides down to drip off the ends without falling through. The first time Lyric used it, he’d realized it’s the exact same technology four hundred years in the future. Some things don’t need to be improved, he thought, amused.
Now, though, rain itself shivers in the air like every drop is caught in ecstatic hold. The power from the untethered array is causing earthquakes, yes, but as they’ve progressed, the energy shocks havebegun vibrating up into the air and atmosphere itself. It’s beautiful, almost like diamonds hung from invisible strings.
Once the quake passes, Lyric is allowed entry, and the moment he displays the token sent to him by their small king, he’s taken directly to Irsu River.
As he walks through the manor, no one looks at Lyric, and dread makes a muddy nest in his stomach. The message he received from River merely said,Come collect Iriset.
“What happened?” he asks the attendant with him as he’s led up the shallow steps onto the porch surrounding the whole library building.
“Design accident,” the attendant says.
Lyric frowns. “Was anyone hurt?”
The attendant stops and looks down. “This attendant is not informed, Lyric Aharté.”
But thewayit’s said sends fear spiking through him. He drops his umbrella and charges toward the library door. Through the continuous sheets of rain he hears, “Over here, Lyric.”
Lyric turns so fast he nearly trips. On the porch floor, leaned up against the inner wall next to the door to Eliri’s half of the offices, is River. An holds a dark cigarette but only lets it burn. The bright embers slowly eat their way nearer to ans long fingers as Lyric approaches, heart pounding enough to feel in his palms.
The small king wears a plain gray tunic over pants the same color. They’re the most ordinary things Lyric has ever seen an wear. River’s hair is loose, frizzy around ans temples, feathers askew. Until now, Lyric realizes he’s always seen River with makeup lining ans eyes. The green-to-blue-and-back-again ripple of ans irises is the only color on an now.
Stopping beside River, Lyric looks down at the other, trying to find the words to ask. It feels like a moment that will change everything,a moment that can never be taken back. But whatever changed has already happened. Not knowing won’t fix it. “River,” he says.
“Iriset is inside,” the small king says with uncharacteristic plainness. “Don’t let any of Eliri’s notes be destroyed.”
Relief and confusion tangle on his tongue, and Lyric makes a stunted noise.
River sighs and holds up a hand. Lyric grasps it unthinkingly, only hesitating once he’s holding ans hand. River is so cold. Lyric pulls an to ans feet and River blinks very slowly. Ans breath smells sickly sweet, a drug Lyric doesn’t know. All the relief he felt flows away with the rain as River says, “Iriset stayed with this useless king during the diagnosis, and when Iriset heard what happened, Iriset left. Found Iriset inside Eliri’s office.”
Lyric, still holding River’s hand, shakes his head. “Iriset is fine, so what happened to Eliri?”
The small king looks away, then startles and drops the tiny stub of the cigarette. It burns its final dregs there on the glistening dark wood of the porch. “Anyone from here would have known,” River says, a hardness creeping into the edges of ans voice. “It’s why fetal meshes are so controversial and difficult. If Iriset was a designer of this crater city, Iriset would haveknown.”
Lyric moves around River, impatient now to find Iriset. River says nothing else, but Lyric hears an slide back down the wall. There’s such an ache of anxiety in his body now, Lyric can’t even call out. He pushes open the first heavy sliding door and walks into the entryway, looking around past blue curtains and dark wood, at shelves of books and scrolls. He hears a thud like a book dropping to the floor, and hurries.
