I passed through the city with little trouble, trading phoenix feathers for moon dust, though for what they could want with nightmare fuel, I didn’t know. Not then, anyway. A small bird child lay curled in one of their arms.
The Soulflame whose two faces were bound back to back rocked the squirming, whimpering child, the bitty bird with tears streaked down its cheeks. Inconsolable. Her second face, he measured out the grains on a scale for each bag. This place was always the last stop, our way of amassing as many phoenix feathers as possible to travel back around the circuit, dispersing the goods until the moon dust flowed into our pockets again. Or in the case of the other nightmares, mouths.
Blyssung caught my stare. “Don’t even think about it, witch.”
I already had a fussy chick bound up in a nest back at my trailer, but since she mentioned it… “My family has asked before, what would you be willing to trade for-?”
“No!” His second face whirled around to tower over me, teeth bared and arms clenched, all too much bristle and puff for something so smooth-faced and pink-tinged. While they’ve got us all in quite a bind from this energy crisis, they’re not quite as fearsome as their so-called lesser beings as You. As me. We are the monsters, and yet we kneel. But I digress.
I smiled wide enough to bare my own fangs, the likes of which made to crunch and rend flesh, if I so had the notion. And the death wish. “Won’t you at least tell us your secret?” But with the babe in the trailer, I knew- oh, what I knew! To make these creatures sweat was just so-!
“Want a baby of your own?” Blyssung cooed from her softer face. The being turned, side-eying me from each face. She lifted the bird so I could see its curly black hair and dark brown eyes. While in my silence, the second on added, “You’re a nameless thing, aren’t you, witch? Can’t have one yourself?” My smile strained, fists clenched. I stepped forward, and they continued. “Are you infertile or broken?”
“Just hungry.” I leaned forward and snapped my teeth right in front of the child’s face. He squealed in terror and began crying in earnest. His pudgy hands began to smoulder. Blyssung smacked the boy’s shoulders with his open palm. “Ethon! Stop that!”
The smoking dissipated immediately. Ethon still cried between gasps and hiccups. Blyssung’s hand squeezed his arm in warning. It did nothing. His free arms passed along the sacks of moon dust. “We’re done here.” He said. Business as usual.
I hopped on my bicycle and speed away, not looking back. I squeezed the handlebars, let my clawed nails sink into the old cloth wrapped around the metal, sucked in breath, strained my legs by pedalling faster still. Anything to get away. Anything to resist turning around and doing something that would get me killed. Get You killed. I was defective, after all. Nameless.
I didn’t stop until we reached the foot of the mountains, miles from the city. There, it was silent. No smoke or mirrors, no fires or ash. The Soulflames remained behind in their precious encampment. I scanned the skies still, and then stepped off the bike. I pulled down the kickstand, passed by the knotted rope which connected it to my trailer, avoiding a large splotch of dried viscera lying off the roadside.
As I neared the trailer, the sound of faint gurgles grew intermixed with cackles of laughter. I opened the trailer door and saw You lying in the exact spot as before, sandwiched between a mass of quilted blankets on the bed. Your pudgy arms waved back and forth in the air as if to signal my attention. For one so new to this world again, You had grown an extraordinary amount in the past day. And luckily enough, moon dust worked well enough as a substitute for food, even if for the moment.
“Hey You,” I said as I scooped You up. “Your friend is going to have a rough time there.” You didn’t understand, only buried your face in my shoulder, clutched my neck with your prickly arms, bitty clawed nails scratching my leather skin. I listened to your babbles and shrieks, leaned up against the open trailer door, letting the winter air nip at our flesh. But as fire and earth go, we did not mind it at all.
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