Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Well, hi there, neighbors! Don’t often see you in this neck of the woods!”
Patricia, the unicorn keeper, was a ray of concentrated Movasi sunshine: charming at a distance, blinding in face-to-face contact. Her light complexion swam with more freckles than duckweed on a summer pond, framed by pixie hair dyed cotton candy pink. A rainbow of woven friendship bracelets cluttered her wrists. Thick work overalls hung over her zoo polo.
Aila and Tanya smiled for their colleague: Aila’s a cry for help, Tanya’s like this was the greatest day of her life.
“Hey, Patricia,” Aila said. “We just wanted to pay a quick visit to—”
“To take a look at our camera set-up! Of course! Been waiting for you all week, since we heard y’all were putting a camera up for the phoenixes! Anything we can do to help out! Zoo friends! Come right this way, I’ll give you the full tour!”
Skies and seas. It was as if… every sentence ended in an exclamation mark.
Patricia looped an arm through Aila’s, then tugged her down the pathway. Please, no. Why? Aila was a defenseless little barnacle, wrenched from her rock face by a wave of unstoppable extrovert energy. Tanya, the enabling doe, followed with a smirk.
The path to the unicorn stables wound past beds of rainbow violets trapped in white picket fences. A cotton candy cart spun sugar in pastel blues and pinks. A mini gift shop showcased unicorn horn hairbands and a quartz carrot dispensary, where patrons could pay to feed the beasts. In the interest of keeping this excursion brief, Aila tried not to wrinkle her nose.
Not that she hated unicorns. All magical creatures were valuable.
But horns and fangs, were unicorns overdone. If Aila had a dollar for every unicorn-themed birthday party she didn’t get invited to as a kid, she’d have enough to buy one herself.
Thanks to their popularity, the unicorn exhibit hosted one of the few live cameras in the San Tamculo Zoo. With Aila’s endorsement of a phoenix camera now broadcast on national television, Director Hawthorn had been at their door the next day, eager to connect them with other zoo resources. A cultural exchange, he’d insisted.
“Oh!” Patricia exclaimed. “Before we look at the camera setup, would y’all like to feed the unicorns? I can walk you to the front of the line!”
Public lines were evil. The fronts of public lines were even worse. Aila tried to slink away, but Patricia’s arm locked her like one of those strangling rainforest vines. “No, no. That’s fine. We wouldn’t want to eat up too much of your time.”
“What she means to say is, we’d love to!” Tanya added.
How hard would it be to stab a human with a carrot? Aila considered her options as Patricia shoved one of the pale, squiggly vegetables into her hand. The bendy tip didn’t offer much potential as an assault weapon.
Quartz carrots were, by the way, one of the lowest nutritional value foods in the world, and why any magical creature had evolved to eat them as a primary food source was an evolutionary mystery. Unicorns were, overall, an evolutionary mystery.
They walked to the corral. Unicorns hailed from the grassy Pennja savannah, but in keeping with the surrounding theme, their enclosure was a prim barnyard lined in more white fencing and heaps of multicolored rose bushes. Two giant, majestic-ass unicorns trotted up to meet them, all majestic white fur with majestic tassels swathing their hooves, majestic quartz horns, majestic manes and tails billowing in puffs of blue and pink that defied gravity… majestically.
They scarfed the quartz carrots down in two bites, an unnerving crunch between giant flat teeth. Aila scrunched her nose. Nothing but fancy horses with carrot breath and a propensity for skewering their horns on barn gates.
“Alrighty! Come right this way!”
Patricia led them into the barn behind the exhibit, stalls swathed in scents of cedar and hay bedding. But also something sweet, sugary, out of place. Unicorns couldn’t even bother smelling like normal animals.
They crammed into an office that would have been snug for two people, much less three. A computer monitor sat on the desk, displaying a live feed of the unicorn corral. Another monitor was split into panels: a scrolling chat box, an audio monitor, other graphs and readouts Aila didn’t recognize.
“This here’s our camera feed.” Patricia pointed to the screen.
“Sure,” Aila squeaked from her corner, half-skewered by a Tanya elbow. “Makes sense.”
“Got the camera set up over the corral.”
“Right.”
“Runs during visitation hours. After that, we loop highlights 24/7. Last week, we got the most adorable footage of Sarsaparilla rolling around in a dust bath! Got dirt all over her coat. Was the cutest thing.”
Aila held Patricia’s gaze for a long time, assaulted by the expectant grin. “Uh-huh.”
“And over here’s the live chat box. Monitored by zoo volunteers, of course. Wouldn’t want folks saying anything naughty!”
Behind Patricia’s back, Aila mouthed an exasperated fuuuck . Tanya clapped a hand to her mouth to suppress a giggle. Patricia was sweet. The tour was nice. But Tanya and Aila had already visited the camera at the moss martin exhibit, lens trained on the burrow where the moss-furred weasels curled up to sleep beneath their heat lamp. Another camera at the gilled antelope, underwater, catching the spindly creatures as they walked upside down, browsing algae from the surface of their pond. She’d be better off back at the phoenix complex, where Luciana’s tech team was setting up their own camera today. Aila bounced, eager to check the progress.
Huh. Eager? Weird how fast that snuck up on her.
Patricia showed little sign of slowing. “Biggest hurdle’s gonna be setting up the right viewing angle. You can see, plenty of area cut off on the sides, even on the wide-angle lens. Gotta make sure you get y’all’s animals in frame, or else you’ll miss the most important—”
“Hey, Patricia?” came a voice behind them.
Aila swiveled to find Connor in the doorway. No space to enter, so his arms braced either side of the frame, tensed to show the perfect hint of muscle. Not that she would ever stare at something like that. He cut her a grin, then back to the unicorn keeper.
“Connor!” Patricia greeted him with the spunk of a bubble machine. “Need something?”
“Yeah. That bag of apples in the fridge—are they yours?”
“Oh, shoot!” Patricia pressed a hand to her heart. “I got those as treats for the girls, was going to hand them out today. You need the space?”
“Just got a shipment of fish in, was figuring out where to put a couple of extra boxes.”
Aila shot him wide eyes. Convenient timing? Or a rescue mission? Skies and seas, give her either one and get her out of this stuffy room.
“Well, gee, I’ll take care of it right away!” Patricia gestured to her guests. “I’ve got to finish a little tour for these ladies, then I’ll race over there.”
Not a chance. Not with freedom this close.
“Please!” Aila interrupted. “Don’t let us hold you up.”
“You sure, hun?”
“Absolutely. We’ve learned so much about your camera already. Truly inspiring.”
“You’ll let me know if you need any help setting yours up?”
“Oh, for sure.” Only if the zoo got attacked by zombies and Patricia was the last person standing. Even then, Aila might be squashed by the enthusiasm.
“Fantastic!” Patricia clapped her hands, a perennial smile on her face. She shuffled out of the room, then hurried off with overalls jingling.
At last, an escape.
Aila raced to freedom outside the barn. She’d spent most of the morning touring the zoo, half-listening to camera lingo, half-dreaming of her two phoenixes cuddled on a branch together, Carmesi handing Rubra token leaves of affection. Luciana’s team had griffin shows to run, but would they have started work on the camera yet?
She didn’t realize she was bouncing until Connor chuckled behind her. Aila stilled, an embarrassed heat on her cheeks.
She appreciated the rescue. She wasn’t sure she was excited to see him—not when she’d yet to recover emotional inertia from their last lunch date.
“Busy schedule?” Connor asked. He avoided eye contact with Tanya as she fixed him with a withering, not-good-enough-for-my-girl scowl.
“Yeah,” Aila said. “Thanks for bailing us out.”
“No problem. Patricia’s a doll, but she does know how to keep talking.”
“Sure does.” Aila swayed backward, contemplating her re-treat.
“But hey!” Connor lit up, that dazzling smile that caught her like a fish hook every time, that curl of hair on his temple like a flashy lure. “I hear congratulations are in order! The phoenixes are getting along?”
“Oh, yeah. We’ve had them on exhibit together and everything.”
“That’s fantastic!”
Aila squeaked as Connor wrapped her into a hug and lifted, twirling her boots off the ground. Her stomach knotted tighter.
“See?” Connor released her. “I said you could do it. Always worrying too much.”
Aila planted her feet. Chewed her lip. “I wasn’t…”
“What?”
“I wasn’t worrying too much.”
Connor’s grin turned bemused. “Of course you were. Remember all that pouting you were doing? But you got through it! Easy.”
Easy.
Easy?
The word snapped something in Aila.
“It wasn’t ,” she said, firmer.
Too firm, she realized at the flash of Tanya’s wide eyes. Aila reeled back but stayed indignant. “We had hurdles, Connor. Real hurdles worth worrying about, that could have jeopardized the whole phoenix program.”
“Oh. Of course. I didn’t mean—”
“It took a lot of hard work to get over those hurdles. We still have a ton of hard work ahead. We still need eggs. We still need chicks.”
“Right. I wasn’t—”
“None of that’s going to happen by just throwing up our hands.” Aila did, just for dramatic effect. “Now… if you’ll excuse us, we need to check on the camera installation. Thanks again for warding off Patricia.”
Connor blinked, a stunned look she’d never seen him wear. “Sure. Catch up later?”
“Sure.”
Aila marched off, leaving him in the middle of the path, a clatter of cotton candy machines and carrot dispensers in the background.
She wasn’t happy about it. Alarmed was a better descriptor. Terrified, even. Stern Aila emerged so rarely from her timid shell, letting go like that in front of a guy she was kind-of dating seemed like self-sabotage. Aila couldn’t help it.
Sometimes, Connor could be so… frustrating, the way he insisted she made too big a deal of things. She did make too big a deal of things. Sometimes. But not like she could twiddle her thumbs and wait for the worst to blow over—not when her phoenixes were on the line.
Once the path curved away from the unicorn exhibit, Tanya jumped on her like a rabid marmoset. Aila yelped in alarm.
“Look at you, Ailes!” Tanya beamed. “Standing up for yourself. Always knew my girl was fiery, but damn.”
Aila slumped. “I guess.”
“You guess ? Told that fine boy off something fierce. What a sight.”
“You’re glad I told him off? You’re the one who wanted me to talk to him in the first place!”
Tanya waved a hand, flashing sky-blue nails. “I want you with someone who makes you happy, Ailes. If Connor doesn’t? Throw that boy wayside.”
Aila scrunched her nose. “I’m not sure I’d go that far. Maybe I was too mean to him. Maybe I should have…”
“Ailes.” Amid their swerving path through distracted patrons, the curves of concrete walkways, Tanya’s hand clasped Aila’s like an anchor in stormy seas. “You know I support you. The real you. There’s nothing wrong with being a little quiet, a little reserved. But sometimes , you get so caught up in your own head, you stop seeing the world around you properly.”
Tanya was right. Aila knew she was right. But what was she supposed to see properly, through the anxiety haze? Just how Connor frustrated her more than she’d like?
Or how he made her feel like her interests were silly.
Or how he talked down to her like a child who couldn’t be fully trusted in public.
That was how most people treated Aila—nothing exceptional on Connor’s part.
Though… shouldn’t she ask more from someone she might offer her heart to? The chance to share herself without a veil? Aila needed a moment to think. To breathe. Time for the world to slow down so she could deal with Connor in a better headspace. As if that would ever happen, with phoenix breeding season fast approaching.
“Though I’ve got to wonder the occasion, finally speaking your mind.” Tanya squinted down at Aila, tapping her chin. “You have your eye on someone new?”
“ What? ” Aila blurted. “Of course not. What would give you that idea?”
Tanya held her stare.
“Tanya, if there was someone else, you’d be the first person in the world I’d tell.”
“Sure. Of course.”
That level of dripping doubt, even Aila’s stunted social radar could detect. What of it? Aila didn’t have her eye on anyone else. She’d know if that was the case. No reason at all for her to feel defensive.
Tanya broke away when they reached the phoenix exhibit arbors. “I should get over to the admin building. Good form to show up a little early. You still fine covering my afternoon food rounds?”
Another meeting about the volunteer keeper program. Tanya had a few of those recently, but Aila didn’t mind. “Of course, no problem. I’ll see you back for closing?”
“You’re the best, Ailes.” Tanya flicked her ponytail before pushing off into the crowd. “Have fun with the camera! Don’t be too mean to Luc, you hear?”
That stipulation depended significantly on Luciana, but… yeah. Aila would try.
The crowd of patrons at the phoenix exhibit grew larger every day, swathed in red feather headbands and T-shirts. Aila spotted Rubra and Carmesi through the glass, hopping through an olive tree and offering each other branches to inspect. She shoved aside the knots Connor left in her stomach and hurried inside the keeper complex, eager to get to work.
Inside, a tease of mango hit her nose. The first thing her eyes landed on was glossy curls.
Aila had cultivated such an efficient fight-or-flight response to Luciana, her heart still did a little twirl to see her maybe-former nemesis seated at the metal counter by the observation window. Tame. Knees crossed primly as she tapped away on a laptop. At the desk beside her, Nadia from the griffin show sat at a brand-new computer monitor, headphones resting around her neck, discarded cling wrap and foam packaging scattered around her chair.
“Hey, Aila,” Nadia greeted. “Back from your world camera tour?”
“ Finally . How can I help?”
“Help?”
“With the camera setup?”
Nadia let out a puff of air. “Oh, that? Already done.”
“ What? ”
Aila rushed to the desk, dodging landmines of cardboard and discarded user manuals strewn about the floor.
“Aila, please,” Nadia said around a wad of chewing gum. “I updated your entire CCTV system in a day. You think I need more time for a single live camera? Those things are a snap to set up.”
Beside her, Luciana tilted a brow.
“I know that for professional reasons, thanks .” Nadia rolled her eyes.
Aila shoved between them, grip tight on the desk, words quick. “But what do you mean done? Like done , done? Did you run into any problems? Is everything working OK? Skies and seas, is it live yet? Are the birds behaving? Did you make sure to get them in the frame and—”
“ Aila .”
Who was that, who’d just spoken Aila’s name so soft? It couldn’t be…
Luciana’s grin curved perfect crimson lips, some scrunch to her eyes Aila wasn’t used to seeing. A weapon of some kind, surely. Preparing to deliver a slicing remark. Aila braced for the inevitable ridicule over her childish behavior.
“Take a look.” Luciana slid her laptop over.
Wary, Aila took it.
One glance, then she practically pressed her nose to the screen. The webpage interface had been updated since the Jewelport camera: a sleek black frame with the San Tamculo peacock griffin logo at the top. Center stage, a video of familiar olive trees, Rubra and Carmesi in the frame as they chased each other through the branches.
Aila inhaled a long breath, ready to scream.
“I got some inspiration from a friend in Ziclexia,” Luciana said. “Kristina? From college? We caught up last weekend. She told me all about this layout they use for the yellow-finned caiman cam at their zoo, sent me the web template.” She smirked, a slow curl of crimson lips. “She says hello, by the way. And all her best wishes for the phoenixes.”
Yeah. Aila remembered. A friend from college, the one Luciana had worked so hard to support, who’d gone on to a kick-ass reptile conservation program in Ziclexia. Aila couldn’t believe any friend of Luciana’s remembered her . She couldn’t believe the gorgeous new webpage. While she gawked at the screen, Rubra hopped out of frame.
The camera shifted to track her.
“ It moves? ” Aila exclaimed in half words, half squeaks.
“Oh, yeah.” Nadia leaned back in her chair, feet propped on the desk. “Updated a few things since that old unicorn camera got set up—higher resolution and basic motion tracking. Welcome to the modern age.”
Aila fumbled to take it all in. The monitor by Nadia displayed a similar screen to what she’d seen in the unicorn barn, though sleeker: a video feed from the camera, an audio monitor bouncing with playful phoenix clucks. Luciana’s laptop showed a separate web page, the public interface for viewing the camera. Live for less than half an hour. Few people had trickled into the viewer tally, but already, the chat box moved as a steady scroll.
Look at them go!
So glad to see them getting along.
Loved watching the Jewelport cam, so happy this one is finally up!
Omg, did one just grab a leaf?
The talk went on and on, viewers growing by the second. Questions about the breeding program. Gushing over the birds. Greetings from Movas, Renkaila, Silimalo, Vjar. Every line, bursting with enthusiasm and support, festooned with smiley faces and little phoenix emojis.
All for Rubra and Carmesi.
All for Aila’s birds.
“Well? What do you think?” Luciana leaned her elbows on the counter, that strange eagerness scrunching her eyes as she awaited Aila’s reply.
Aila broke the silence with a heinous sniff.
“It’s all right, I guess,” she said, wiping the tears off her cheeks.
Nadia walked Aila through the camera program and settings. Luciana regaled her with the branding, the contact info for the chat moderators, then several distressingly kind words.
“This is a huge step forward for the program,” Luciana said in those honeyed tones that, for once, came out sweet. “You won’t regret this, Aila.”
Aila didn’t. The phoenix transfer became real the day Carmesi arrived. Yet this was the moment, watching her two birds on the camera feed, Aila finally felt the ashes stirring, her childhood program rekindling. All they needed now were eggs.
Once the griffin keepers left for their afternoon show, Aila barely tore herself away from the camera long enough to speed through her own chores. Then she was back with eyes glued to the screen, mesmerized to see her phoenixes preening on the feed, their names scrolling through the chat box.
She barely noticed the click of the door when Tanya returned. The heavy scrape of boots on linoleum finally broke her reverie.
“Tanya! The camera’s up! Come look, it’s amazing !”
“Oh, that’s nice, Ailes.”
Tanya didn’t race over to admire the camera feed. She moved to her desk, a rustle of papers filling the room.
“Come on, Tanya. You’ve got to look!”
“I’m sure it’s fabulous, Aila.”
“It’s even got motion tracking!”
“That’s wonderful news.” Tanya crossed the room toward the kitchen. “I’ll come look in a second. I just need to…” She stopped in the kitchen doorway. Stared. “Aila. Did you feed my afternoon rounds?”
Had she…?
Shit .
The food bowls for Tanya’s aviaries sat on the kitchen counter, forgotten in Aila’s haste.
“Tanya,” she peeped. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry! The camera set-up took longer than expected, and you know how I can get distracted, and I got a little carried away, I guess, and I didn’t mean to forget, but the camera’s amazing and you should come…”
Tanya slumped against the doorframe, head in her hands, slim braids tangled around the blue of her nails. The sight sobered Aila like a pail of kelpie water to the face.
“Tanya,” she asked with the might of a mouse. “How did your meeting for the volunteer program go?”
“Not great, Aila.”
“What happened?”
“We didn’t get the grant we applied for. Can still ask for funds during the next donor meeting. I need to work on my proposal tonight, make sure everything’s airtight. Would have been nice to close up on time.”
Tanya’s distress drilled into Aila’s ribcage, leaving a squirm of mealworms where her heart ought to be. Tanya, the majestic giraffe, her eyes dull and shoulders caved forward. The sight was unfathomable. Impermissible. How could this have happened?
“Why do you need money for a volunteer program?” Aila asked, because she couldn’t think of anything else.
“For training. For uniforms. Updates to the computer system. Takes a lot of work to start something new. You know that, Ailes.”
Of course Aila knew that. She’d been mired in that mud for months. “It will be OK, Tanya. You have time to get this sorted out. We’ve been so busy with the phoenix program.”
“We have. I’ve given you a lot of time.”
Aila shrank at the clip in Tanya’s tone, the bite of that accusation. They’d renovated this building together. Filed the paperwork together. Applied for the camera together. Her desk chair squeaked, spurred by an anxious swivel.
Tanya softened. “And I chose to give that time. I wanted to. But the phoenix program is your project, Ailes.”
“It’s our project.”
“It’s yours . Those are your birds, your dream. This volunteer program is something of mine. It’s important to me.”
Aila’s nose scrunched to a painful caricature. “Then why have you hardly said anything about it?”
“I have , Aila. I’ve been in meetings for months. But you’ve been so focused on the phoenixes, you hardly notice anything else.”
Tanya didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t have to. The keen edge on her words was enough, that wispy little warble on a couple syllables that only meant one thing.
Aila had disappointed her.
Aila’s ears rang. Not Tanya. She couldn’t fight like this with Tanya.
“I can help,” she pleaded. “I could… write something. For your proposal? I’m good at reports now!”
“I don’t need you to do this for me.” Tanya’s words cut between the clack of metal food bowls, a pile of pellets and defrosted fish chunks in her arms. “I just need some time of my own to get this done. And I need to get this food out before closing.”
“I can—”
“It’s fine, Aila. I’ll take care of it.”
Tanya swept out the door like a gale, leaving Aila a crumpled leaf in her wake.