Chapter 30
Ani
After a calming night, I thought the best thing the universe would give me is a calming morning. I was hoping for too much, it seems. Being left alone in that hollow was possibly the worst thing Szhe’ka could do to me.
I would rather die with him than leave him. No matter how much I try to convey that to him, he keeps putting his safety over mine. It’s driving me crazy. But rather than hold it over him and letting the Bitch tear into him, I take a long breath and hold on to being patient.
New feathers, I remind myself.
One therapist, long ago, said it was impossible for me to form healthy attachments; I can finally prove him wrong with Szhe’ka.
I will be different. As we huddle in the trees, I keep saying it to myself as a way to distract me from just how terrible this place is.
All that running and the high stakes has me exhausted.
I can only imagine how tired Szhe’ka is.
He’s doing so much and here I am, damsel in distress.
It feels uncomfortable, like a million ants dancing on my skin but in this situation, there is absolutely nothing I can. Except itch myself, of course.
Ever since I woke up, it has felt like I’ve been attacked by bees.
It itches like crazy. While one hand desperately holds on to Szhe’ka, the other hand roams my neck, lower back and my torso, scratching in order to restore my sanity. It’s hard to think straight but I’ll be damned if I give Szhe’ka one more thing to worry about.
“We move. Hunters…”
He’s even slurring his song now. I stand, trying to help him up but there isn’t much I can do to pull his weight.
He rises by himself, sweeping me into his arms before I can protest. We make it out of the thick trees together and I can finally get a sense of what went down. It is on a scale that I cannot fathom.
There are feathers everywhere, some belonging to Szhe’ka while others are unrecognizable. The trail of blood and pink slime lead everywhere, melting into the forest like a nasty paint trail.
“Need to eat?” I sing to him, looking around for fruit.
“No. Find shelter,” he chirps back. I nod and allow him to carry me where he thinks best.
My endless wriggles of discomfort draw Szhe’ka’s attention.
“Too fast?” he asks, concern in his beautiful song.
“Just itchy.”
He just grunts and continues running. I see more feathers and something like a broken eggshell. I really want to ask what happened, but I hold my tongue.
We keep running until he slows down and places me on the ground.
“I gather this time,” I say, pushing him to rest against the tree. He tries to protest but I’m already walking away.
My body still itches like crazy and I know it means more change is coming.
I let out a long huff. Losing my humanity is something that’ll take me time to come to terms with.
If I grow into a size that can barely fit through my apartment doors or become a spectacle for the tabloids, I think I’ll need at least five therapists.
I tear my eyes away from my reflection and start walking back to Szhe’ka.
I grip the comb tightly in my hand, as I did curled up in that cove.
I might not be able to do much but I can take out an eye or two.
Other than the sound of my feet crunching leaves and the flowing river behind me, the forest is silent.
Too silent.
It’s an eerie feeling that makes me quicken my step.
I felt it earlier when we hid within those trees.
There’s a predator more dangerous than the hunters hiding within this forest. We’ve been lucky enough not to encounter any, but it makes it a lot scarier if we haven’t encountered any because of this creature.
Be calm, Ani, I tell myself. You’re almost back with Szhe’ka. There’s probably nothing in this woods. You’re just freaking out all by yourself. Just stay cal—
A flash of movement catches my eyes, and I resist the urge to scream, brandishing my comb in that direction. It was too fast to see but I’m not taking any chances. I start running in the direction of Szhe’ka, hoping to catch a glimpse of him before whatever is in the woods catches up to me.
I catch another flash very close to me and see a blur of white. I don’t slow down and continue running until I’m reunited with Szhe’ka. I run straight into his arms breathlessly. But what he says next shocks me.
“Azoeul. You have returned.”
I spun back around to see our friend leaning against a tree. If I’m not mistaken, he looks impressed and amused.
“Did you chase me back here, Azoeul?” I ask, pointing an accusing finger at him.
“I did. I knew you would lead me back to him,” he responds, tone as flat as ever.
However, I can still tell he’s amused. He walks across to sit beside us, placing the fruits I forgot to pick up at Szhe’ka’s feet.
“You look rough,” Azoeul says to Szhe’ka.
“I ran,” Szhe’ka responds in Azoeul’s tongue.
“I saw. However, how do you explain the feathers?”
Szhe’ka recounts his run in with the hunters without sparing any details. From tossing branches to throwing the egg at them to distract them, each detail adding more. I really wish I was there to see it. No wonder he’s so exhausted.
“You did well,” Azoeul praises.
“Yes, that was amazing,” I add, stroking his hand. He visibly recoils right in front of us, shaking his head in disapproval.
“I did not do much. I just ran.”
“You saved my life, so it clearly was something,” I argue, annoyed at his continual focus on running away.
“I vowed,” he responds, his grip tightening around my hand.
I don’t think there’s a human that can match this level of commitment.
Azoeul coughs, getting our attention.
“I could not find Ree or her beast, but I followed the trail of the hunters. It seems as though they have become the hunted. There’s a pile of corpses in that direction,” he says, pointing behind him.
“Did you see what was hunting them?” I ask, my fears of a giant predator returning.
“I did not. But we should be safe for now. I found a trail leading away that might be Ree. We should follow that one.”
We agree and my constant itching catches Azoeul’s attention.
“There are more feathers now,” he comments.
“Yes,” I respond, trying not to show any emotion about the fact. If I react too harshly, it might reflect poorly on Szhe’ka. I cannot make it look like I find this repulsive.
“Do you think you will be able to take flight if you grow more?”
I snort in response.
Now he’s really just having a laugh. I’ll probably end up looking like a dodo bird.
“I doubt it. They just itch,” I respond, scratching in tandem. I feel Szhe’ka’s grip tighten so I turn to him.
“Does it hurt?” he sings softly.
“I am fine,” I sing back, rubbing his hand.
There’s guilt in his song, although none of it is his fault.
Azoeul rises and disappears into the trees without a word. We’re already used to him just leaving so we don’t question it. He will be back soon enough.
“Szhe’ka,” I sing his name. “Did you… hate it?” I ask, picking my words carefully. “When I kissed you.”
He is quiet for a second and I begin to wonder if he hated it and I am a giant creep.
“I liked it. Very much.”
His words send relief flooding through my body. I’m glad he liked it. Otherwise, it’ll be pretty awkward going forward. I’ve never felt anxiety like this before. It’s a strange, unfamiliar feeling, like a marching band in my stomach. It’s not all bad though.
Azoeul returns soon after, the supplies we abandoned when the hunters came in his furry arms. It’s quiet, save for some requests from Azoeul and Szhe’ka’s occasional sighs.
When we’re all done getting ourselves resituated, we settle down and eat lunch.
I’m starting to get used to this simple, domestic life.
Once we’re done, Szhe’ka has recovered enough strength to stand and stretch his limbs.
“Azoeul, do you think there is a large predator in these woods?”
“Perhaps. I have yet to run into one yet. The hunters have been stomping through these lands in search of us so anything living, save for the birds, should have found new shelter.”
“Is that so?” I muse, not sure what else to say to him.
I don’t like how quiet it is. But I can’t say anything right now because the itch has spread to my throat. It feels like there’s bubbling hot liquid in my throat melting through and, threatening to burst out.
Szhe’ka is the first to notice there’s something wrong with me. He reaches to touch my face, asking me what was happening. I opened my mouth to explain to him but instead of words, a lump of hot coals launches itself from my throat, landing directly on Szhe’ka’s plume.
All of our eyes widen when we discover it wasn’t coal but… acid?
It rapidly works its way through Szhe’ka’s plume, burning off the beautiful feathers and leaving him exposed. He screeches as the acid meets flesh, a sizzling sound hissing through the air. The panic that follows after is unreal.
I scoot back while Azoeul reaches forward with some leaves, trying to stop the acid from causing more damage. They both charge toward water, both disappearing in a flurry of yellow and black. I chase after, but I soon lose sight of them in the dense coverage of trees and leaves.
I catch up just in time to see Szhe’ka dunking his plume while Azoeul stands guard. I stand beside Azoeul, helplessly watching as Szhe’ka tries to save his feathers.
From the keening sound, something tells me that plume must be just as important to him as I would imagine it is for most male birds. Important to making them an attractive mate.
My eyes narrow at the thought. I don’t need him attracting another female, but I’ve hurt him. Intentionally or not, I’ve burned away a part of him important to him.
“Ani… since when could you do that?” Azoeul finally asks after tearing his eyes away from my victim.
“Just now!” I respond.
Immediately after I speak, another ball of acid flies toward the water, narrowly missing Azoeul’s legs as he darts out of reach. I cover my mouth with both hands, realizing how close I’ve come to burning him.
Could this get any worse?
“You are going to have to learn to control that before you hurt someone else,” he says in his toneless language, revealing no anger or fear.
Of course I do, genius!
The remark lingers on my tongue, but I refrain from speaking to give him a glare.
He doesn’t stay to see it, wading into the water to help Szhe’ka out. They both come out, Szhe’ka standing a few steps back, hesitant to approach. His face is downcast and his plume is destroyed. I turn around so I can talk to them without trying to burn them once more.
“Many regrets, Szhe’ka. That was so mean…”
In the middle of my sentence, I fire more acid balls, scorching the leaves beneath my feet. How long am I going to be stuck like this? I can’t stand the thought of never kissing Szhe’ka ever again.
“Accidents are not meanness,” he tells me, following the drone of Azoeul’s language with a hum infused with goodwill.
I feel his shadow lurking over me. He puts his hands on my shoulder and gently turns me so I can see him, but still facing away from anything I could harm.
“Do not look like that,” he urges. “Was not an attack.”
Even though his damaged plume is evidence otherwise, he’s still standing there, comforting me.
“This was not your old feathers,” he adds.
He means I’m trying not to be the Bitch. How gracious can one truly be?
I fall into his arms, hugging as tight as I can as I carefully keep my face pointed away. Then we walk back together to our campsite, Azoeul choosing to maintain a safe distance from me. Our walk back is accompanied by the fading sound of the flowing river.
Once we arrive, he places me on a log and walks over to a tree, creating a carved circle on it with his talons.
“Try to aim,” Szhe’ka encourages, standing by me with a hand on my shoulder.
“Every weapon takes practice,” Azoeul adds.
With nothing else to say, I mumble a thank you to them, which fires a shot right at Azoeul’s feet as he leaps away in one of his impossible moves.
I fight the urge to scream in frustration, deciding instead to keep myself calm.
I retrace the sensation of hotness, trying to steady it so I’m not shooting venom everywhere.
I must’ve stood there motionless for so long that I feel Szhe’ka shaking my shoulders. I open my eyes and fire a ball of acid at the tree marked with a target. It misses the target, of course, but it at least hits the tree. I pump my fist in victory, accidentally sending another Azoeul’s way.
“Maybe give it another try,” he simply remarks as he dodges away.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes and continue training the ball of acid that is now flying from my throat, enough to control it.