Free The Stuff of Dreams by Hideyuki Kikuchi Page B

fingers touched the wrist of her topmost hand. Ai-Ling was speechless. She could only watch D’s face raptly as he moved the hand she was using to keep pressure on the wound and looked down at her injury.
    “It’s nothing serious,” the Hunter told her. “Put a compress of vajna leaves on it, and before the day is out—”
    Suddenly, Ai-Ling jerked her hand away roughly. In the feeble darkness, it wasn’t clear if D noticed how flushed her face was all the way to her ears. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled softly. “It’s just, it’s been a long time since a man took my hand.”
    “Does that happen a lot with the chicks?” D asked as he watched the chick. Blue flames rose from its downy white chest—the work of the high-voltage lines. “And not a peep out of it—that’s very polite of it.”
    “Every once in a while they get me,” Ai-Ling said as she pressed a handkerchief to the wound. In a matter of seconds, vermilion laid claim to the white cloth. Seeming uneasy as she looked up at the rapacious bird, she continued. “But it sure caught me off-guard today. You know, I can usually tell whenever they’re in that mood.”
    “We should go.”
    “Still got some to do yet,” Ai-Ling said with a smile before moving toward another pen. Stopping in front of the equipment, she hesitated a bit before reaching out her hand. The upper body of the nearest chick shook a bit, and then it froze. D was reflected in its glassy eyes. It seemed as if the creature had suddenly developed an appreciation of beauty, but actually the remorseless eyes of the vicious bird were filled with a shade of horror that was beyond description. D’s eyes were tinged a pale shade of red. Perhaps Ai-Ling also sensed something, because she looked up at the young Hunter with a pallid countenance, and then quickly went back to work. After that, the inspections were finished without further incident.
    The sunlight was waiting to greet the two of them again. Once outside, Ai-Ling locked the door and tipped her head appreciatively to D. “Thanks for the help. Uh, try not to look
at it so much. I mean, it’s not a very pretty hand.”
    She wasn’t talking about the hand she’d injured. The hand she covered it with had countless scars on the back, and the skin had hardened in a condition unique to toxic bites so that it was now like the scaly hide of a fire dragon. Perhaps D had noticed from the moment they’d met that she’d been trying to keep it hidden.
    “What kind of girl was Sybille?” the Hunter asked, his voice cold and devoid of emotion.
    Ai-Ling’s expression grew stiff, remembering again why D was there. “Oh, she was a romantic,” she replied flatly. “And she was so kind. What more could she possibly need? I’m sure she must be having some really nice dreams. If she’s not, there can’t be a God.”
    “What kind of dream would be a good dream?”
    Thinking a bit, Ai-Ling turned her gaze to the depths of the blue sky. She had a faraway look in her eyes, like something important was up there. “The kind of story that traveling writers come up with for the young girls.”
    D remained silent.
    Ai-Ling licked her faintly colored lips, and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “A dream,” she began, “where people in love hold hands when they walk down the street. Where the library has all the books you ever wanted to read. A dream where no one threatens anyone else, and everyone thinks about other people and does things for them without ever being asked. Where new fashions arrive from the Capital every week. A dream where the pharmacist has all the medicine you need to soothe your child’s fever. Where you can make ends meet without working like a dog. A dream where everyone goes down to the pond on a moonlit night to catch fireflies. And a dream . . .”
    The rest of the final sentence was spoken by another voice.
    “. . . where humans and Nobility walk down the street side by side?”
    Dazed, Ai-Ling stared at her