The Worth of a Shell by M.C.A. Hogarth

Author:M.C.A. Hogarth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: science fiction, aliens, biology, gender shifting, gender, conlangs
Publisher: M.C.A. Hogarth
Published: 2015-09-18T00:00:00+00:00

I was trying to etch a design on the lip of one of my pots when Linuthet arrived the next day. The door that closed behind her let in a swathe of cold and a rectangle of morning sunlight. I didn’t greet her, too concerned with the motions of the knife: it was easy to pierce the lip in the leather-hard clay and render it flawed.

She did not speak, for which I was thankful. The heavily-built fire soon restored the room to a comfortable temperature and the crackle of the flames and the soft scrape of the blade were the only sounds in the room. When I’d completed the design, a set of interlinked spirals, I straightened and turned.

I’d forgotten all about the anadi, she’d been so quiet. She was sitting on a tiny stool by the fire, hands on her knees and a bag at her feet.

I sighed. “I’m not going to eat you.”

Her head was bowed, but her eyes rose to fix on my face. “No, but you don’t like me much, do you.”

I flinched. How to explain my ambivalence? “I don’t dislike you, Linuthet. I’m just not certain Reña can afford you yet.”

“I’ll work for the House!”

“Doing what?” I asked, one brow lifted.

She deflated. “I don’t know. I’ve never been given the chance to work before.”

She was a pretty thing, wrapped in that layered white skin and with all those silver curls. It was painful to see someone so young so dejected. I ran a hand through my hair and said, “Well, we’ll find something later. Why don’t you go to the second floor and put away your things, and then maybe cook something?”

“All right.”

I turned from the firepit after she’d vanished up the ramp and shook my head. Linuthet might be willing to work but what could she do? The kinds of work available to a fragile anadi were few. That was part of being anadi, gods damn it—they weren’t supposed to work. But Reña had no pool of cool waters for its anadi to bathe in, no flavored ices for them to sip. If we were going to grow large enough for our anadi to live in comfort, if ever they decided they wanted to, then work of some kind we’d have to put Linuthet to.

I walked outside to the front of the house and leaned on one of the teeth framing our porch. The wind ruffled my mane, reminded me that I needed to do a better job of braiding it if I was going to keep the slip out of it.

A familiar red figure was toiling up the path to our House. I raised my voice. “Hail, Barit Dzeri-eperu!”

“Hail the House Reña!” the emodo called back as he joined me. Our landlord’s grin never changed; perhaps because Reña was the last stop on his monthly route and we never failed to pay in full. “It’s a brisk winter, don’t you think?”

I clapped him on his cloak-covered shoulder. “Brisk enough for a warm drink by the House’s fire, I would say.

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