THE SECOND REALM: ORANGE — Knots in a bond

Whenever she approached a group, the questions and attempts to draw her in began again. Some lost interest if she did not give in; others tried harder. Skyblue learned to close the entrance to her refuge firmly when she wanted to be alone.

From those conversations, she learned that laces were distant relatives of the male and female sylphs who kept the air clean in the dragons’ village. Unlike the sylphs, they retained a shape of their own even as they changed.

They lived hanging from branches and fed on the different components of the air. Those fond of hydrogen tended to be active and dominant; those who preferred oxygen were very sociable. Those who fed on fluorine adapted easily, while lovers of neon and other inert gases liked to retreat into solitude now and then. Skyblue learned to recognize those preferences in their movements.

Before long, she discovered that, as well as a color and shape, each lace had its own texture. When it approached another, it displayed whatever it considered most attractive: a curve, a movement, or a shimmer it seemed to reserve for that occasion. It was an elaborate courtship for creatures who, by their own account, were just passing by.

When two laces liked each other, they looked for a comfortable branch to share. It reminded Skyblue of the moment when dragons decided to live together. If the union lasted, new laces might be born, and the branch became a family home.

But not every union followed the same course.

During the first few days, both displayed their charms. Then each began to expect the other to adapt to its habits. One wanted to move when its partner wished to rest. The other preferred to hang higher, stretch farther, or visit a different branch. What had fascinated them at first began to irritate them.

Skyblue saw couples in which one pulled so persistently that the other eventually gave way. Gradually, the lace that always yielded lost its distinctive glow. Its shape blurred until it was hard to tell apart from its partner’s. They stayed together, but it grew increasingly difficult to distinguish one from the other.

In other unions, something happened that bewildered her even more: once the dominant lace had made its partner conform completely, it lost interest and went looking for someone else. The abandoned lace remained motionless, its color dull. Some tried to pursue the one who was leaving; the harder they pursued, the farther away the other went.

The sadness lasted a while, until a new movement caught their attention and the courtship began again.

She also met couples in which neither would give way. They joined, separated, and joined again, exhausted by a struggle they sometimes mistook for the desire to be together. Some eventually parted for good; others reached agreements and found a more peaceful way to share their branch.

Skyblue chose to follow one couple from the beginning. She watched one approach and retreat, drawing the other’s attention until it left its group. She accompanied them from branch to branch, watched their games, and was there when they chose a home together. They seemed to be having a great deal of fun.

‘I understand now,’ she thought, ready to go on exploring.

Then she heard Helio’s voice:

“Keep watching.”

She obeyed. As the days passed, those two began to change color when they were together. They drew abruptly apart, came close again, and pulled in opposite directions. Their bodies formed a tighter and tighter knot.

Skyblue approached cautiously.

“Why did you decide to be together?”

“Because I like them,” one answered, pointing to the other.

“What do you like?”

“Their shape. The way they move.”

“Then why are you upset?”

“Because they won’t do what I say.”

Skyblue looked from one to the other.

“But if you like them the way they are, why do you want to change them?”

The lace stared at her as though she had just asked a completely absurd question.

She knew that look. She had seen it at school and at the grown-ups’ gatherings. This time, though, she did not feel offended. She fell silent and kept watching.

What surprised her most was how difficult they seemed to find being alone. They sought one another constantly, and between the wish to join and the fear of parting, they ended up hurting each other.

‘I really don’t understand the creatures of the enchanted lands,’ she told herself.