Page 46 of Eat My Moon Dust
“Sorry, I’m late, Hunar! I–”
I skidded to a halt, jaw falling open.
The only way I knew the stone-cut muscles and bright turquoise coloring of the man with his back turned to me was Hunar was because he stood at his workbench. His tendrils were longer,thicker,and though they only reached his upper shoulder blades, one red-striped tendril hung heavier and lower than the rest, brushing his hips. It was hissenti,no doubt. I’d never seen any of the others display theirsentislike that, and suddenly my throat felt like a desert.
Hunar turned around, the same grouchy bronze eyes taking me in. He blinked, jaw ticking, fingers crawling across his workbench as he gripped the edge. His entire mane, including hissenti,slipped over his shoulders towards me.
“Watstakats,”I breathed.
“What?” he asked hoarsely.
I shook my head, trying to rein in my stampeding heartbeat. “It’s like saying geez in Cree. Family habit. What I meant to say is, you… you lookgreat,Hunar.”
What had been murky stripes on his forearms, tendrils, and neck now flashed cranberry red in a wave.
“Woah.”
Hunar cleared his throat, trying to maintain a sense of professionalism. “I couldn’t sleep last night so I came in early. Ornaments, tinsel, tree needle garlands… Do they look alright?” He motioned around the lounge, and I dropped my bag of flour, covering my mouth in shock.
“Oh my god!” The lounge was like Santa’s workshop. Fake evergreen hung from the grid above, draped alongside tinsel in silver, red, and green. Giant red velvet bows were hooked all along the shelves, and the tools had been shoved back to make room for canisters of ornaments, twinkle lights…Were those nutcrackers?
He’d done so much more than we’d talked about. Hundreds of little details I hadn’t thought to ask for, like candy canes, even if they were holographic white and red decorations rather than real peppermint sweets, and a poor attempt at an Octopus bag.
I bit my quivering lip and blinked back tears. He must have referenced the photos I’d shown him ofThe Three Sistersand thought they were Christmas decorations.
He didn’t know they were actually marriage gifts one makes for their husband.
I wasn’t going to tell him though, even if my heart burst into thousands of sparkly pieces. Maybe… maybe after our deal was over, I’d cherish it quietly and hang it in my kitchen.
“This isamazing,Hunar. It’s unbelievable.”
“I’m concerned the needles aren’t realistic enough,” he gruffed, the edge of a workaholic obsession in his tone. He reached high with one upper hand and pulled on a garland. Cradling it in his arms, he held it out to me. I brushed my palm over the needles and swallowed a thick sob. It felt so real that I expected to smell terpenes and feel droplets of sticky sap in the knots of the branches.
“No, they’re perfect,” I sighed with a little smile. “I promise.”
Hunar’ssentireached across the distance, its wandering tip bumping against my arm. It rumbled, almost as if it were asking permission to touch me, and I creased my brow.
“Why is it so much longer than the others?” I asked.
Bajora spoke up from a corner surrounded by colorful spools of ribbon. I hadn’t even noticed he was there, his boots crossed on a high shelf as he reclined in a break chair. A Santa hat with elf ears was perched crookedly atop his tendrils.
“Syaliis from deep waters, so he’s a grower, not a shower. That fancysentiof his is used for mate-grappling and luring lunch. It’s bioluminescent, by the way, so when you see it in the dark for the first time, don’t be surprised.”
I turned back to Hunar. “Really?”
He nodded, jaw clenched, glaring at Bajora. His nostrils flared and he exhaled with a coarse hum. “Yeah.”
“They also have bigger spleens for longer dives and can control their nitrogen intake, so no decompression sickness. They’re the great builders of Dharateen’s ancient cities. Just can’t climb worth shi–”
“Bajora,” Hunar warned.
The culinary engineer got to his feet, all four hands up in surrender. “Don’t worry,syali.I’ve learned my lesson about coil challenges. Just dropping a few friendly facts since all the rest of us here are born from the shallows. Oh, and Tinsley? They’re territorial as fuck and don’t hiss in warning so much as–”
On cue, a sinister bass clicking emitted from Hunar’s chest and skull, the stripes decorating his neck pulsating in sync. Bajora motioned to him with a smirk.
“That.My cue to scram before he breaks me in half. Have fun, you two. Play nice.”
Bajora turned off his food bay and left the lounge.
