Page 91 of The Shape of Monsters
To Rabbit’s surprise, Lyric Aharté is already coming to ahz. Az stalks the duo for two days, high in the trees like a red monkey. Though Rabbit cannot change ahz form the way ahz mother can, there are little shifts az can affect with a thought—slight alterations of mass and the interaction between ahz body and the world around ahz so that az can move without sound. The edges of ahz form blur through leaves, and the wind fondles ahz hair like it is only smoke. Az leaps branch to branch on bare feet, a ghost high above Lyric and Setka.
Az slips through the dense forest, unable to articulate exactly why az hesitates to present ahzself, preferring to gather information first. Some unease born in ahz thanks to ahz mother, perhaps, to the strangeness of looking at someone who looks like ahz but isn’t the ever-changeable Moon-Eater. It is no hardship to study Lyric Aharté, either: He is beautiful. His grace is accentuated by the fall of loose robes and skirts he wears. His soft boots, not quite appropriate for the muddy winter road, somehow aren’t very dirty, and he carries an umbrella to shade his head from scattering drops of water that fall from the trees after it rained overnight. He moves steadily, not too fast, and as he gazes out at the rows and clusters of red pines and stripping-bark hemlocks that tower over the narrow road, he wears a soft smile. As if the world itself pleases him, or he’s thinking of poetry.
But as Rabbit studies Lyric Aharté, an unknown sensation curls in ahz stomach. Az wishes az’d brought more of Sah’set’s grass. When they camp for the night in one of the regular travel lodges, sharing it with a slightly larger group of traders, Rabbit hunkers down in the shadows outside the stone building, listening to the crackle of their fires and the laughter and occasional outcry as the traders teach Lyric Aharté and his little chimera companion a dice game. They all speak the standard Sarenpet of the crater city, which takes Rabbit a moment to accustom ahzself to—in Hehet town they speak a variation much closer to Sarian dialects. Rabbit listens as Lyric Aharté softly gambles away a share of the dinner the chimera hunted down, then as he just as softly wins a favor from the lead trader. All Lyric Aharté asks for is companionship in his meditations. The traders laugh but allow it, and they grow quiet as Lyric Aharté moves around the lodge, setting something down in each corner—Rabbit can only listen and interpret through the open window, not see—then Lyric Aharté snaps in the northern corner, and one of the traders gasps.“This is balanced design,” Lyric Aharté says, “the first step in Holy Design and Silence.”
Then he leads them through a simple breathing exercise, by the end of which Rabbit supposes at least two of the traders are asleep. Afterward, Lyric Aharté and the lead trader speak of the crater city, of a handful of small kings the trader works most directly with. Lyric Aharté sounds unlearned in the specifics of the crater city and the greater Sarenpet territory, but extremely well versed in the theories of trade and governing. Rabbit can barely follow it. Lyric Aharté laughingly denies to the trade leader that he wants anything more than to continue south in exploration, and refuses an offer to share a bed. When Lyric Aharté picks his way through the darkness toward the latrine, Rabbit watches from that same darkness, struck by the way Lyric Aharté falls still to watch the glow of the moon. It’s halfway to full, hanging low in the western sky, and barely visible through the pine needles and spindly winter branches.
Lyric Aharté stares at the moon for a very long while, until Rabbit nearly darts over to shake him out of it. But the chimera crunches her way to him instead, taking Lyric Aharté’s loose hand to tug him back to shelter.
Rabbit wonders at the strange man, and tries the breathing exercise. It settles ahz a little bit, but not enough for easy sleep in the force-loud forest.
Az follows another day and night, as Lyric Aharté and his friend aim directly for Hehet. Incredibly, they would have found themselves greeted by Sah’set in eight or nine days on their own.
As they walk, Lyric Aharté teaches the chimera a few words in Mother’s language, then lectures the chimera about some philosophy. When they stop to rest and refill their water bags, Lyric Aharté rubs an ointment onto a few patches on the chimera’s scales, and Rabbit is reminded of taking care of the skin at the base of Turo’s horns. Azwonders if Lyric Aharté is truly a child of numena like az is. Az both wants and hates for it to be true.
Late that afternoon as they approach the outskirts of a logging town that supports a mine in the nearby hills and belongs to the local Sarenpet governor and warlord, Lyric Aharté stops beside a handful of workers readying their carts for pushing up the steeply inclined road leading toward their town. Two of them speak very good Sarenpet and listen as Lyric Aharté asks if they know of anyone living nearby who looks just like himself.
“Red god,” one of the women says, all of them openly staring.
“Maimeri,” Lyric Aharté says, shaking his head at the divine allegation.
Rabbit reacts to ahz own name without thinking, throwing ahzself from the tree at Lyric Aharté to tackle him from above.
Though Rabbit is silent and fast, at the last moment Lyric Aharté dodges, turning to grab Rabbit and toss ahz aside. Rabbit hits the ground harder than intended, breathless, but snaps back to ahz feet with a wordless grimace. Az sees Lyric Aharté’s mismatched eyes go wide, and he raises the umbrella at his hip in defense. The humans around them are yelling, and the chimera snarls loudly.
But Lyric Aharté’s attention is locked on Rabbit. Rabbit attacks, but not to hurt. Az just wants to know this is real, or just—Rabbit isn’t sure. Az needs to touch. Rabbit is good at scrap fighting, good at wrestling with inhuman creatures. Az can’t shake off the urge to grab Lyric Aharté, to get ahz hands on the man’s skin. Lyric Aharté catches Rabbit’s punch and turns them, grappling Rabbit’s arms behind ahz, but Rabbit bends and flips Lyric Aharté over ahz back. Lyric Aharté hits with a grunt, somehow keeping his feet. He jabs a stiff hand at Rabbit’s solar plexus and it hurts, but Rabbit shifts just enough it isn’t a game-ending blow. Rabbit laughs, startling ahzself, and Lyric Aharté’s sun-and-earth eyes catch ahz for a second, then Lyric Aharté smiles. “Rabbit,” he says.
Rabbit jumps back. That’s what Mother calls ahz. In the fairy language. Rabbit. Little Rabbit, Maimeri.
They stare at each other, Rabbit’s shoulders heaving with panting breaths the brief surge of action does not warrant. Az is shaking, too, and dizzy. People press nearer, but Lyric Aharté holds out both his hands to wave them away. He steps closer to Rabbit. A little line appears between his brows, and he looks very confused for a moment. “Hehet?” he murmurs, and that’s very strange. That’s the nearest thing Rabbit has to a hometown, but how could anyone know that even if they were sent by the Moon-Eater to find ahz?
“Lyric Aharté,” Rabbit says, voice rough from adrenaline and disuse.
One of the workers cries, “The Fallen Star!” and there’s a scuffling Rabbit and Lyric Aharté both ignore.
Lyric Aharté reaches toward Rabbit, and Rabbit gives ahz hand. The skin of their fingers is not exactly the same: Rabbit’s is darker, unevenly, from all the time in the sun, and Lyric Aharté has a few tiny scars on his first knuckles. “You are Little Rabbit, aren’t you?” Lyric Aharté says in the fairy tongue, weaving their fingers together. “Maimeri.”
Rabbit nods, still staring at their hands, fascinated by the play of skin and knuckle together.
Lyric Aharté asks, “Where are you staying?”
Rabbit shakes ahz head, that’s not relevant. Az says, in the old fairy tongue az hasn’t used except with Turo in years and years, “I’ll take you home.”
Never cold
Maimeri is not what Lyric expected. He knows better than to have expectations, but Maimeri Sarenpet casts such a great shadow over the history of Aharté’s Holy Empire that Lyric couldn’t help it. He imagined Maimeri to be harder, bolder, more warlike even. He expected the lord of a house, or the leader of a town at least, for Maimeri to have gathered people to ahz already—so that Lyric wouldn’t have to face the challenge of convincing ahz to return to the crater city and essentially depose ahz father.
The Maimeri who drops out of the trees is none of those things and, frankly, rather feral.
It’s charming, though, ahz lack of shoes, the soft but tense way az moves through the world. When Lyric agreed to go home with ahz, Maimeri instantly started south along the road, ignoring the workers with their carts who’d been watching the quick wrestling match. Az didn’t even make sure Lyric followed.
Setka had turned huge eyes at Lyric, baring her sharp teeth in silent incredulity. Then, at his gesture, she scampered after Maimeri. Lyric had thanked the people for their help and wished them well, ignoring their boisterous questioning about his name and the fallen star.
While they traveled the rest of the day, Maimeri kept just ahead, vanishing into the trees again if other people appeared. It amused Lyric, who considered it a very convenient way to avoid conversations, but Setka found the behavior too strange. “Why is Maimeri afraid of people?” she asked Lyric.
“Don’t think Maimeri is afraid. Perhaps it’s simpler this way. But ask when it’s time to rest,” Lyric answered, touching one of the jutting thick scales on her brow.
Of course, Maimeri’s answer was “Why talk to strangers?” and az said it with such bland sincerity Lyric realized he was going to have a very, very hard time as a kingmaker with this untamed miran as his recipient.
