Grey-Eye

Author's note: this is an unapologetically nonhuman love story told from a twin perspective. This story, Grey-Eye, tells the story from the female point of view; its sister story, Echobright, tells the story from the male perspective. Enjoy.

* * *

The wind roared under my wings, supporting me. With a powerful downward beat I thrust myself forwards through the warm air, feeling the sky surge faster over my streamlined form: there was the turbulent gale where my head penetrated the oncoming wall of air, then the caressing rush as it slipped smoothly over my long neck and body, and the gentle tickle as it rejoined seamlessly just past the tip of my outstretched tail.

As I flew, I clicked my tongue, aiming short sharp projectiles of sound at the ground below me.

Click-click-click-click-click.

My ears strained to pick up the faint and distorted debris of their echoes as they bounced back up to me, letting me gauge my height; and with a skilled and well-practised ear I could tell not only the distance but even the shape of the land below, by which means I kept track of where I was flying. So long as I kept low over known terrain, my voice and ears could paint me a picture of my surroundings just good enough for me to get by, despite my blindness.

There were other sounds to filter out first. Not only was there the constant rushing of air past my ears, but there was also the Song. Other hyeloki shared the skies with me, and most of them liked to sing. The Song was a fluctuating, ever-evolving thing; a complex harmony of voices joining and leaving and trying to blend with one other, a shifting mosaic of motifs and rhythms and counter-rhythms. Beautiful, in its way. Sometimes, when I wasn't trying to navigate, I'd lie back and relax, letting its melodies and counter-melodies seep through me, soothing me. But I never joined in. It was their Song, and I wasn't one of them. They'd made that quite clear.

From below, my ears picked up the harsh split echoes which suggested the hard, square geometry of buildings and streets. The town's main street was long, straight and broad, and I wheeled left to meet it end-on, letting the streaming wind slow me down, losing height.

Click-click-click-click-click.

Echoes from walls left and right; I used them to align myself straight and central as I dropped below the level of the rooftops.

It was morning, and the street would be busy. Fortunately, my clicking sonar also acted as an early warning system:

get out of the street,

it said,

Echobright's coming.

Sure enough, I recognised the bustling chaos of an emptying road as I dropped lower, the mixed voices of a dozen races braying in confusion and irritation as they pressed to either side to make way. There were also, I thought, some hyeloki voices laughing from the rooftops. I bristled as I recognised them: Cloud-Splitter and her two cronies. We could never meet without a confrontation.

I let myself drop until my talons grated against tarmac, my wings stretched rigidly to either side. I was still moving too fast when suddenly there was an echo that shouldn't have been there, bouncing back from a figure standing right in front of me, in the middle of the road, too close for me to stop...

"Get out of the way, you idiot!"

My screamed warning apparently worked, as at the last moment the figure dived to one side and down, my right wing passing straight over it. Gradually, deliberately taking my time, I slowed to a halt and folded my wings. A rather routine landing, I reflected, apart from that one idiot.

Behind me I heard the crowds closing in again, and only a couple of people took the time to throw me colourful abuse in languages they probably imagined I didn't understand. Weaving through the bustle, I noticed a patter of clawed footsteps heading straight for me. Hyeloki footsteps. Something told me it was the same idiot who had been gawking in the middle of the road, and I wasn't at all surprised when he rushed up to me and spoke, in a quiet but animated voice.

"Excuse me, but is your name Echobright by chance? Are you

echolocating?

It's incredible! How did you ever learn to..."

"Go stick your head up your own arsehole and practice it, if you're so interested."

I'd long ago decided that I didn't have to humour them. Everything I'd ever achieved I'd done on my own; all my life I'd been given almost nothing but mockery and belittling condescension. I certainly didn't have to stand back and listen to sighted people deliver a patronising little lecture on how

talented

I was, for learning a poor substitute for what they could do perfectly naturally. As I turned my back on the man and walked away, laughter erupted from the rooftops above me.

"Hey there Echobright! Don't be so rude to the little guy! He just wants to be your

boyfriend!

"

I froze at the sound of the familiar, crooning voice, gritting my teeth before spinning round to shout up in defiance.

"Cloud-Splitter! Fly down here and insult me face-to-face, why don't you, instead of lurking at a safe distance like a month-old chick?"

I hadn't expected her to, but she did, swooping down with a few wingbeats to land just a single span away from me. Just far enough to be safe. My chief tormentor was losing the fear of me I'd worked so hard to instil.

"Hey now Echobright, I'm not here to insult you. If only you could see him, you'd know that after just one taste of your graceful landing and

charming

personality, why, he's simply head-over-tail in love! And oh Echobright, this one's quite a catch! He's so... strong and fierce!"

Two voices shouted down their contributions from the rooftops.

"An unmatched acrobat in the air!"

"And he's absolutely

gorgeous

to look at!"

Cloud-Splitter's tone when she resumed was insidious and wheedling.

"It's just a shame he has his heart so set on you, or I'd have him as my own in a heartbeat."

I thought back to the stranger who'd approached me. What wretched or wizened thing had they found, that they were taking such delight into trying to set up with the blind girl? I wanted to scream obscenity at her, or try to rip out her evil throat, anything to show that I could

not

be made a fool of, but I knew by long experience that right there and right then it would only make a greater fool out of me. So I simply turned my tail on her and walked away. She shouted after me.

"That's it? You're turning your back on him? Breaking his heart? But just imagine what beautiful children you two could... ayyaarrrgh!"

What? What had happened? Why did she scream? I heard her spin around on the spot, and when her voice returned, it carried the answer.

"Did you just

bite

me, you pathetic little cripple? If you weren't such a pitiful little scrap of a thing I'd give you a few more scars to go with your collection!"

Something warmed within me when I realised that I wasn't the only one to dislike Cloud-Splitter intensely enough to sink teeth into her. And my heart leapt when I realised that when she had turned to face

him

, she had made the mistake of turning her back on

me

.

I couldn't see her, and I didn't want to alert her by echolocating, but I'd heard her move, and I carried a mental picture of just how she must be standing, with her wings raised aggressively like so, and her long tail draped undefended across the tarmac just

so...

"Get out of here before I... AYYYAAARRRRGH!"

I let my fangs sink deep into the soft flesh, blood squirting hot into my mouth as I bit down hard, only stopping when I judged that if I bit any harder I'd bite it clean off. As I let go I relished the taste of her blood in my mouth, relished her gasping shrieks of pain, relished the mocking laughter from the rooftops, which was directed not at me any more, but at

her

. When she spoke again her voice was weak and trembling.

"Psychopaths, the pair of you! You deserve each other!"

And with that she was gone, escaping into the air, her two companions flying after her, still laughing. Leaving me alone with the man who I apparently deserved.

Part of me wanted nothing to do with him, whoever he was. He was nothing to do with me. But then, he'd helped me fight off Cloud-Splitter even after I'd shouted abuse at him, so perhaps I owed him at least a few moments. And besides, I was curious.

Who was he, this man? I showered him with careful sonar bursts. It didn't tell me much, except that he was smaller than me. It wasn't that he was small, but that I was unusually big, even for a female. Everyone was smaller than me.

As he walked towards me I stopped clicking and sat patiently, waiting for him to speak his piece.

"I don't know how well you can see me like that, but I'm afraid I don't live up to the description they gave of me."

Obviously. He must realise I knew that. Or did he think me stupid? I let him carry on, mostly because he had a pleasant voice, lyrical and colourful, but gentle.

"They did get one thing right though. They called your landing graceful. And it was. Not just impressive - I mean, the fact that you can fly and land without eyesight

is

impressive, really, I would never have thought it even possible - but genuinely graceful. You've heard the saying that a truly graceful flyer can land atop of a finely balanced pole with only a single sweep of the wings? Twaddle. A

truly

graceful flyer doesn't flit about to the whim of some ridiculous pole. Grace is something that sets its own course and leaves others to work around it. A

whole street full of people

erupted into chaos just to make way for the grace of your landing."

Well. He certainly knew how to talk pretty. But me, graceful? For a moment I toyed with the new concept, then threw it out as nonsense. The only reason people got out of my way was because if they didn't I'd hit them.

"I'm sorry, I never even introduced myself. My name's Grey-Eye."

"Why?"

None of us chose our names lightly. Names were important.

"On account of my unusual grey eyes. I was born with them. But then I lost the one on the right, so Grey-Eyes became Grey-Eye."

Colours. Grey, yellow, green, blue. All just words to me.

"Echobright, if you don't mind me being somewhat bold, I'd like to have a chance to get to know you a little better. Perhaps we could find something to eat to wash the awful taste of Cloud-Splitter's tail out of both our mouths? Where are you headed now? Wherever it is, would you mind if I came along with you?"

Was he... asking me for a date? Something long dormant within me fluttered. Yes, I wanted to. I wanted to get to know this Grey-Eye, this mysterious pretty voice who had made me believe, just for a moment, that I might actually be graceful.

But... my long-accustomed defences hardened my heart again. It might all be a big joke at my expense: get big crazy Echobright's hopes up, then how funny it will be when you break her heart! Or maybe he made the offer out of pity? That was somehow even worse. I stood up and addressed him coolly.

"Thank you for biting Cloud-Splitter. I have work to do, and you can't come. Goodbye, Grey-Eye."

I walked away, feeling proud of myself for not losing my head. I'd only gone a few steps when I decided I'd just made a huge mistake. I stopped. I spoke without turning around.

"But I'll be hunting on the low mire at second noon."

* * *

I reached the mire a little before the time. It irritated me that I hadn't been able to stop thinking about this all afternoon, and it irritated me more that I was so nervous. Damn Grey-Eye and his pretty voice. Probably he wouldn't even show up.

Just in case he did, I found a prominent spot where he'd be able to find me and waited. The mire stretched out for several miles ahead of me: a damp, flat, stinking expanse that I struggled to navigate by sonar and was forced to rely on sounds and smells, of which there was fortunately an abundance. I could hear the marsh-lopers yawn as they wallowed in the mud and the chittirakes whistle as they squabbled over flowers; I could smell the spicy scent of fire reeds wafting their pollen into the air, and the rich foulness of stagnant mud close at hand. And most importantly of all, I could hear Grey-Eye if he flew towards me.

To pass the time, and as I felt a song rising in my heart, I sang. I didn't sing the Song. I never sang the Song. I just sang out to the sky, not caring if I discorded with every other voice in the world. But I didn't sing so loud that I couldn't hear the footsteps as they squelched through the mire towards me, and I didn't change my tune at all when I heard him sit quietly beside me, listening.

I'd thought, or perhaps hoped, that he might sing with me. He didn't. He didn't move, and didn't speak, until I let my voice fall silent.

"You sing as beautifully as you fly. Entirely to your own tune."

Grey-Eye. His words made me smile inside. I'd never met anyone else who could do that to me.

"You walked here. Can't you fly?"

"Not any more, my right wing doesn't do what it's told. I can still glide a little, but I can't push myself through the air like I used to be able to."

I surveyed him with sonar, but it told me nothing new. What had Cloud-Splitter called him? A "pathetic little cripple". Possibly he was a poor thing to the eyes. To me, that didn't matter. I only needed his voice, the words he used and the gentle but self-assured way he said them. But I was curious.

"I want to have a look at you."

"A look at me?"

He didn't know what I meant, but he found out quickly enough. I reached out the fingers on my wings to touch him, and found myself at the end of his snout. Tracing down his long chin, up and around his head and ears, I noticed immediately a difference between his left side and his right.

"My left side's my good side. The right side's scars and burns all the way - once you've counted them all you'll probably be glad you don't have to look at me all the time."

No, I'd never be glad of that. But he wasn't displeasing to the touch. He was a slender thing, but well proportioned. As my fingers moved down his long neck they highlighted the asymmetry: one hand slid over flat, perfect, firm skin, whilst the other traced lines of scars etched into the surface, and the rough texture of burns. They must have been old, because there was no twitch of discomfort when I touched them. As I felt the profile of his shoulders and moved onto the wings I found the reason for his flightlessness: a bend of the right wing that simply shouldn't have been there, an old wound improperly healed. What had happened to him?

"You know I've never had someone look at me in this way before? Maybe its just your talented fingers, but I'm quite enjoying the experience."

Tracing along the leading edge of his wings, my fingers found his. He caught me gently, and just for a moment we simply stood there holding hands, neither of us saying a word. I felt that I could easily lose track of what I had come here to do, if I wasn't careful. I pulled my hands free.

"I think I heard marsh-lopers over that way. Can you see them?"

"Yes, I see them, about half a dozen grazing about a hundred spans away."

"Let's catch one. Lunge and lurk."

There was a pause while he thought about it.

"Yes, we could manage it, I think. You lurk and I lunge. There looks like a good spot for it further down. And there's a mudbank right behind you, if you want to dress for the occasion."

"I know. I can smell it."

Lunge and lurk. One of the classic old strategies, and one of the few viable to a pair who were individually sightless and flightless. But to be the lurker, I had to become part of the mire. Taking a few cautious steps backwards, I felt my feet sink into a thick, sticky, stinking mud. When I was up to my knees, I dropped down and rolled, rubbing the vile stuff all over me, letting it coat every patch of skin.

As I wallowed back and forth, I felt Grey-Eye watching me keenly. Only when I stood up, believing the job done, did he speak.

"You missed a bit under your neck. And there, just on the inside of your left leg. Perfect! And I must say you are quite the most alluring swamp monster I've ever set eye upon, by a long way."

I couldn't help smiling at that, and hoped he wouldn't notice under all the mud.

"Shut your cheeky mouth! Let's go."

I was ashamed to admit it, but it was a difficult journey for me as we drew nearer to the marsh-lopers. We had to keep low and quiet, which prevented me from using sonar to see where I was going, and I had to feel my way forwards step by step. Grey-Eye, ahead, seemed to notice.

"Would you like to hold my tail?"

I managed to swallow the angry rejection which automatically bubbled up in response to such a demeaning offer, because in truth I

did

want to hold his tail. So without complaint I took the tip in my mouth and let him guide me, trusting him not to lead me awry, and we moved much faster than before.

Grey-Eye led me true, and I released his tail when he announced in a whisper that we had arrived.

"Here. Loper run. Only easy way through for a dozen spans either side. If I was a loper this is where I'd go."

I felt the ground with my feet, sniffed the soil, felt the wind on my tongue. It was a good site. Selecting a spot just downwind of the run, I lay down low in the cool mud, folding back my mud-coated wings to try and look as much as possible like a part of the landscape. Grey-Eye fussed about with bits of foliage, arranging them gently over me, his fingers lingering slightly longer than necessary when they touched my mud-caked skin.

"Are you good and comfortable there? Plenty of nice soft moss for a pillow if you need one. Nothing prickling your bottom? No itches that need scratching? Actually, you look so snug down there I'm more than half tempted to lie down next to you and..."

"Grey-Eye, shut up! Get out there and send me a loper, and save your pretty talk for later!"

Only when he was safely out of easy spying distance did I let myself smile. And let myself imagine him lying down next to me, ever so quiet, let myself pretend that that warm gust of air was his breath on my neck, and that branch pressing against my foot was

his

foot, and that...

I stopped myself.

You're getting emotional,

the cold hard part of me warned.

You don't know this Grey-Eye. If you let him into your heart so easily, then he will just as easily break it.

I nodded in reluctant agreement. Take it slow, I told myself. Don't let yourself fall in love with him. Not until he's earned your trust.

A shout shattered my resolve. Grey-Eye had worked his way round to the far side of the marsh-lopers and had lunged. I heard the splashes as he ran wildly towards them, and as he ran, he shouted exuberantly.

"Run! Run, loper, run for your life! I'm Grey-Eye the Fierce, a savage and soulless killer, come to devour you! Rrrrawrrrrr!"

I wanted to laugh. I could picture the scarred little man careering through the mud, doing his best to look ferocious, as clearly as if I could see it. But I couldn't laugh. I couldn't move or make a sound. I had to stay a part of the landscape.

Footsteps splashed towards me, moving fast. Loper. Just as they were upon me I flung myself at the creature, latching onto the terrified beast with talons and teeth and squeezing, squeezing, until it stopped struggling and lay dead. I had no remorse about it. I'd done it hundreds of times before, and would do it a thousand times more to keep myself fed.

The kill had commandeered my full mind, pushing everything else out. But as I heard Grey-Eye wading slowly towards me, limping slightly off his scarred leg after the exertion, it all came rushing back.

"Grey-Eye the Fierce?"

"At your service, Echobright the Enticing."