“Rabbits are sentient, whereas chairs are not,” he said as he got into position and lifted the cart poles. “But we classify a rabbit as an animal and a miraj as a faerie . . .” His words drifted off.
“Are you saying that, while both are sentient, the miraj also has, or is, magic, so it earns the faery title?”
“Yes?” As’ad smiled at her helplessly. “I thought I knew where I was going with that.”
They continued their lighthearted debate on and off until they found a pleasant spot to camp shortly before sunset.
As they were finishing their supper, Rahma brought it up once more. “You know, there are probably scholars and books devoted to the faery field of study.” She ran a finger down Alzali’s back. The gray rat had decided Rahma was acceptable. “We can’t be the only ones to stumble on this question.”
“I bet you are correct.” As’ad pulled Khudha out of his hair from where her attempts to bathe him had become a little too aggressive.
“Maybe one day, we’ll find some of them.”
“The books or the scholars?”
“Either!” She grinned at him from across the fire, and his stomach did that lurching thing that was becoming more common.
Only later, when As’ad had curled up in his blankets, did he realize Rahma had spoken with the assumption that their futures would continue to include each other. And he had automatically gone along with it. It would be better for everyone if he remembered that their paths would diverge soon enough. Which they would.
Chapter Nine
In Which Speculation Occurs
Thenextfarmingcommunityhad been bypassed by midmorning the next day. The supplies from Qarya were holding out and would likely keep them fed for another week or so.
“Or!” Rahma gasped out of the blue. “Does a creature gain the faery classification by being at least slightly humanoid in shape?” She counted on her fingers as she spoke. “Goblins, pixies, trolls, dryads, dwarves, and djinn all have humanish physical characteristics—generally four limbs and a head or face, yeah? Is that what makes them faeries?”
As’ad mused over her words. “But what about the miraj and shadhaver and phoenixes? Didn’t we say they fall under the faery heading?”
“I knowwesaid so, but what if we’re wrong?”
“I suppose it’s possible,” he said carelessly. After all, he had no stake in the argument. It was mostly an entertaining way to pass the time.
Rahma rubbed at her bottom lip and stared into the distance for a long moment. Then she threw up her hands. “Well, I suppose it doesn’t really matter.”
She turned their conversation to childhood memories. Since As’ad’s resolution to keep his distance was still fresh, Rahma carried most of the discussion. He eventually admitted to a few of the universal childhood experiences, like believing he could fly with the right set of wings and a sufficiently high launching point. The headmistress never let him test that theory, but Rahma had disregarded Suha’s advice in that area and broken her arm in the process.
These recollections continued through their lunch stop and into the early afternoon. The desert had all but disappeared as their steps headed west again. Jungle foliage popped up here and there, but the majority of the green in this area came in the form of grassland. The gently rolling prairie was the perfect place for livestock to graze. The first hour or so, they saw mostly cattle. Then they came upon a unique herd.
“Are those karkadann?” Rahma asked.
As’ad had heard of the creatures but never seen one.
Karkadann were an odd combination of useful and useless. Similar to cows in shape and general size, they were not great for eating. Nor were their other products good for a quick buck. They had scaly skin that made strong, lightweight armor, but only if it was harvested after they died naturally. They grew and aged so slowly that many of the creatures who finally gave up their leather had been born in the time of the ranchers’ grandparents or great-grandparents. At least the karkadann were quite large when they finally passed. This allowed for multiple sets of armor to be made from a single skin.
Their lone horn was even more profitable than the leather. In a powdered form, it served as an antidote to nearly every poison on the continent. But again, removing the horn early was impossible. Anyone who tried was left with a toxic substance that nothing could cure. These limitations were well known and protected the herds. Their size, tough exterior, and poisonous horn also helped, of course. Ruhks were the only known predators.
Seeing the at least partially magical beasts brought a new theory to As’ad’s mind. “What if we are approaching the whole faery/not-faery debate from the wrong angle? Could there be different classes of faery creatures like there are different classes of non-magic creatures?”
“Like humans and cows are both non-magical but we separate them into people and animals?” Rahma’s next few steps bounced. “So there could be people faeriesandanimal faeries. Makes sense to me!”
Apparently satisfied with that conclusion, she let the subject drop and hummed to herself. “I know we passed a couple homes already, but is there a bigger town soon?”
As’ad looked away from a truly massive karkadann that he half-expected to drop dead as they walked past. “Why?”
“Because I want to ask more questions.”
This reminded him that the girl accompanying him was not here for him. His heart seemed to curl in on itself for a moment with the reminder. Distracting himself from his foolishness, he made an observation that he had been ignoring.
