Page 129 of The Concubine King
‘You’re excited to see me too, then,’ he remarks, the curve of his lips spreading to a cheeky, pleased grin.
Vaire laughs and cinches his arms tight around Kyarin’s shoulders, pulling him down and letting frost shroud the flowers.
It is not where we belong.
Vaire tugs Kyarin another step towards the village.‘It will be okay,’ he reassures.‘There is plenty of shadow amongst the torches.’
‘That is not my concern,’ Kyarin tells him.Vaire drops his arm and listens.‘Their gods will not appreciate us mingling with them.They’re too protective of them.’
‘When did you care what the human gods think?’Vaire asks, amused.
‘I do not care what they think.I care what they do.They’ve gotten more volatile.’
‘It is not as though we will hurt them,’ Vaire says.‘I only want to see them up close.Please.”
Kyarin’s resigned smile does not wipe away his troubled expression, but he acquiesces.
The pathways bustle with humans of every size—which Vaire has ascertained mostly accorded with their age—and even some of the animals they’d begun keeping mill amongst them.But the humans look different from usual.They had taken the skins and bones of wild animals and donned them, feigning menacing appearances.But there is that boisterous joviality in the air that Vaire had witnessed from afar many a time, and it is intoxicating to be amongst it for once.The humans talk and laugh and drink their concoctions, eat their carefully prepared foods.They jump out of hiding spots to startle each other, or scurry away to hiding spots to be alone together.Small humans play invented activities, and they walk by groups of larger humans also playing silly mortal recreations, usually with differently carved pieces of bone.
Kyarin stays in step beside Vaire, casting more cautious glances than Vaire’s swivel-headed excitement.They stop by the side of one of the humans’ many structures, as it is the last by the edge of a large field.Vaire can tell from the stalks that it is a field that had been growing the humans’ plants.But now it lay razed, and instead of waist-high grasses swaying in a breeze, the center of the field has a large fire blazing.Even more humans gather around it, hands clapping or producing strange sounds from their constructed tools, or moving their bodies in that mesmerizing way they all do together.
A human with a sloshing liquid in hand wanders past them and stops, looking at them askance.“How did you paint yourself in such a ways?”it asks Kyarin.Kyarin turns his gaze from the field to blink languidly at the human, and it balks.“Those aren’t… those aren’t costumes—what are you?”It starts stepping away, and the humanness of its behavior gives way to primal expressions Vaire is more used to: backing off, teeth bared, trembling.
“Please don’t be afraid,” Vaire tells it gently, not moving for fear of scaring it further.The human language feels strange in his mouth.“We are what you call wild gods.”
The human looks between them, eyes wide.“The wild gods?”it whispers.“Are you here to curse us?”
It is yet another word the humans have invented that Vaire can’t parse the meaning of.
“We are here to enjoy the excitement,” he says.“To appreciate your spirited expressions that you call… ‘celebration’.”To show his good will, he summons wildflowers to pop up in the dirt between them, but this only startles the human more.It drops its liquid, scrambling back another few steps before turning and fleeing.Vaire sighs.
We don’t belong,Kyarin tells Vaire.We should leave.
But before they can, more humans arrive, gathering around them with trepidation and awe.Vaire grows more flowers, and the little ones gleefully begin plucking them up.A bigger one steps forward, bending its torso over in a human show of deference before laying a circle of green branches around their necks, stepping back quickly from Kyarin when the leaves on his immediately wither and fall.But then they are shown to the field, to the fire, and are allowed to join in.The humans teach them the rhythmic movements they call ‘dancing,’ and Vaire finds it great fun to dance and swivel and spin around the fire with the lot of them.
Kyarin is not interested in that, instead sitting to the side, but it doesn’t deter the little ones from cautiously gathering around him.Despite his reticence, Vaire knows he is pleased to produce frost and flakes of snow in the air for them, to their squealing excitement.
When Vaire leaves the dancing to join, he makes more flowers, and the little ones masterfully weave them together into colorful vines that they decorate Vaire’s antlers with.
The celebration extends into dawn, until exhaustion or stupor downs the few who hadn’t returned to their structures.Kyarin and Vaire return to their own home amongst the trees before light takes over the sky.
They are there not a day when a hawk flies in and Vaire knows it is not of his wilderness.He turns as it morphs into Cadoc, but his excited smile is met with only a dour frown.
‘What did you do to the humans?’he asks.
Vaire’s smile falls.‘We did nothing to them.We only wanted to dance and play among them as you and your brethren do.’
‘Their food stores for the winter are completely rotted.They say wild gods joined them, and then this happens.They will starve.They will die.’
‘Why don’t they make more?’Vaire asks, confused.
‘Becausehedoes not let them!’Cadoc barks, pointing to Kyarin.‘They need to prepare for the cold and darkness because nothing will grow!And now all their preparations have been ruined.’
‘They are the ones encroaching to the north,’ Vaire points out.‘They are choosing Kyarin’s cold and dark.’
‘They were fine until you two came along,’ Cadoc spits.‘How did this happen?’
‘When two of us are together long enough, these occurrences happen,’ he explains.
