Page 110 of Moon Chosen

“How short?”

Mari thought for a moment, then she lifted her hand, placing it against her neck just below her jawline. “Here. Cut it to here.”

“That’s pretty short,” Sora said.

“It’ll grow. And this time it won’t be matted with dye and dirt. Just do it,” Mari said.

Sora shrugged. “Okay, it’s your hair. Your really, really dirty hair.” She made a face as she lifted the mass of it, held it like a tail, and started sawing through it.

Mari closed her eyes and ignored the pulling pain. When Sora was done Mari’s hands went automatically to her hair. Her head felt light and strange, like she wasn’t quite herself.

“I got it pretty even. It was actually easy to cut once I got rid of that matted mess. Go wash it. I want to see what it really looks like,” Sora said.

Mari stood, stripped, tossed her dirty clothes in the soaking pile with the rest of them. Then she cut the soaproot and, taking a generous piece with her, headed out into the deep part of the pool.

She felt Sora’s eyes on her back, but she didn’t turn to face her until she could sit on the bottom of the pool and submerge up to her shoulders. Sora was still standing beside the pool.

“You’re staring at me. It makes me uncomfortable,” Mari said.

Sora blinked and Mari saw her cheeks flush pink before she turned away. “Sorry. It’s just that your skin under your clothes is a different color.”

“I already told you that,” Mari said.

“Well, telling and seeing are different things. Plus, the sunlight is hitting you and those weird glowy patterns are showing.”

Mari looked down at herself, seeing the delicate filigree patterns of the frond of the Mother Plant lift from deep under her skin. She held out her arm, marveling at the miracle that lived within her.

“Does it hurt?” Sora asked in a hushed voice.

“No, not at all.” She looked from her arm to Sora. “I’ve never talked about it before, not even to Mama.”

“Why not?”

“It made Mama nervous. She was always afraid someone would see me. I—I think she wanted to forget this part of me,” Mari said, blinking against tears that had begun to pool in her eyes.

“Hey, Leda wasn’t denying who you are,” Sora said. “She was just keeping you safe.”

Mari smiled tentatively at her. “Yeah, that’s right. Thanks for reminding me.”

“Any time, teacher.”

Mari dunked under the water and came up sputtering and scrubbing with the sticky, frothy root. She closed her eyes and rubbed a big hunk of it between her hands, and then she washed her face—over and over. She worked from her face to her arms and hands, scrubbing off the layers of clay and dirt that had been concealing the true color of her skin. Lastly, Mari attacked her hair. She didn’t count how many times she soaped it up, rinsed it, and repeated, but she didn’t stop until it squeaked between her fingers and there were no more snarls in it. Shivering, she waded from the pool, heading to Rigel’s sunny rock to dry.

Sora hadn’t taken so long to wash herself, and was already dried and dressed, sitting comfortably on another wide, warm rock.

Mari didn’t look at her until she was seated beside Rigel. She wasn’t modest—that was foolish. As Leda had taught her—a naked body was nothing to be ashamed of. It was a gift from the Great Goddess, and whether short or tall, fat or thin, all bodies had merit. Mari waited to look at Sora because she couldn’t guess what her reaction would be. No one except Leda had seen Mari bare skinned and clean haired. Ever. So she sat in the sun, soaking up the warmth of the light, feeling equal parts of excitement and nervousness.

“You’re glowing again,” Sora said. “And I’m not staring, but it’s hard not to notice it.”

Mari studied herself. Her naked skin was still pink from the scrubbing she’d just given it, but the flush was overshadowed by the golden glow that spread in a frondlike pattern all across her body. She looked up and met Sora’s gaze.

“Your eyes are different, too. They’re shining really bright and are the color of the sun in summer. Your creature’s eyes are doing the same thing. I don’t mean to offend you, but it’s strange,” Sora said. She paused and then added. “But your hair is nice. The color of wheat and curly. And your face is different, definitely not like someone from the Clan, but I will say I think you look a lot better clean.”

“Thanks,” Mari said. She ran her fingers through her hair, loving the soft bounciness of it. “It feels good.”

“What’s it feel like when the sun shines on you like that?” Sora asked slowly.

“Warm,” Mari said. “Nice. It makes me feel like I could run all the way to the ocean and back without even breathing hard.” Mari started to think about the fire that had coursed through her and set the forest ablaze, but her mind skittered away from that image. She couldn’t think about that now. She’d think about that later—after she was more used to her new self.