Page 5 of A is for Ahool

My skull felt a few sizes too small, but I struggled to focus. Bird calls, distant hoots, and the whisper of the wind through the leaves. But no voices. Something shifted beside me, too purposeful to be a scurrying animal. I held my breath, expecting a barrage of questions from Emak.

Instead, I was met with silence, even as whoever had moved next to me paused. I waited a moment longer, then risked peeking my eyes open.

This time, it was easier, and I saw a blurry figure crouched at the edge of my field of vision. Too big to be one of the village women. My breath caught in my throat as I tried to sit up, only to flop back down with a groan. The world spun around me, my vision darkening as I weakly clutched at my head.

When my right hand drifted toward the center of my forehead, a massive hand gently grasped my wrist.

“No,” a deep voice rasped.

My heart lurched. Why was there a strange man at my bedside? Where was everyone else? Surely, we were not alone together. Everything I had ever been taught rebelled against the idea.

I forced my eyes open and squinted against the light to scan the room. I frowned. The walls, floor, and ceiling seemed to be made of the same woven material as the houses in the village, but the architecture was all wrong. There were no right angles, the floor curving into the walls that curved up to form the ceiling. It was, for lack of a better word, a giant bird’s nest. But what kind of bird…?

The still figure at my side shifted and I snapped my head around to look. The movement made my stomach heave and I had to close my eyes and take several deep breaths before the urge to vomit faded. I carefully squinted at the man. But it was not a man. Not anything remotely like a man.

Heart pounding, I slowly inched away. I did not dare take my eyes off of the… My mind stuttered. What was it? What was it? I could feel myself hyperventilating, but I could do nothing but stare.

The male’s upper body was very similar to a chimpanzee, with a barrel-like chest, long lean arms, and thick dark fur, but his legs were more human. Even crouched, I could tell his legs were long and muscular and would have him towering over me. His giant hands were clasped together in his lap, the long, thick fingers woven together to press his broad palms together. As if trying to prevent fidgeting. I paused.

For the first time, I let my gaze wander up to the creature’s face. He stared back at me with large, black eyes. Like bottomless pools of darkness, they glittered in the shade of the nest. His muzzle was shorter and less pronounced than a chimpanzee, a strange hybrid of ape and man. And his ears were closer to the top of his head and vaguely bat-like.

The creature shifted as if he were uncomfortable under my scrutiny. Something large and red shifted behind him. Wings? There were huge, crimson bat wings tucked tightly against his back. Almost as if he were trying to hide them. The sight made me pause.

This creature had helped me, and I was being unbelievably rude. Inappropriate proximity aside, he had done nothing to harm me. And I was making him self-conscious. I internally winced.

How many times had I been the one being scrutinized? The one always found wanting no matter my achievements? I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing myself to relax and meet the creature’s eyes again.

“Hello,” I tried.

He cocked his head. “Hello,” he said hesitantly.

My lips twitched. There was something endearing about his obvious nervousness. It was difficult to be afraid in the face of it. I gave my surroundings a slow once-over. Without panic coloring my observations, the curious part of me took over.

“Did you build this place?”

When he did not reply, I turned my head to see him staring at me intently. There was a deep crease between his heavy brows. I frowned back.

“Do you speak Indonesian?” I asked.

His frown deepened and he made a quiet huffing sound. It appeared to be more frustration than hostility.

“Can you understand me?” I tried in the local language.

He perked up and nodded.

I smiled. “I’m Anissa.”

“Muram,” he said softly.

My smile faded slightly. Who would name someone that? A name was supposed to be a parent’s hope for their child’s future. As I took in Muram’s face, my heart hurt for him. This creature who had been cursed with the name Sadness.

∞∞∞

Muram

Annisa. My beloved’s name was as lovely as her. I busied myself pouring her a cup of water, willing my hands to stay steady. Having her so close, was a sweet sort of agony. At least her fear scent had faded.

When her beautiful eyes first opened, they had taken my breath away. But then the bitter scent of terror had filled my nest, and I shrank in on myself. If I could make myself small, maybe she would be less afraid. I wanted her to know she was safe with me, but the fear scent only grew. And then abruptly, it was gone.