Chapter Twenty-Eight

Be Bold, Be Brave

----------------------------------------

When Rhydian had warned her about the tiny, walking mushrooms, she didn’t believe him. Her distaste for the fungus had become common knowledge after a certain sage had insisted she try a meal of them during dinner a few nights prior. Inerys, being the sane woman she was, had refused.

And was subsequently chased around the campfire and held at fork-point.

Half a week and a new camp later, the teasing still abounded. Which was ultimately unsurprising, given the group’s proclivity for good-natured jabs. She hadn’t been the only one on the receiving end, but she was often the easiest target. Her lack of overall knowledge regarding the world beyond the deepwoods meant she was often at the mercy of the others. They rarely took advantage of the fact, but every now and then, they did lead her on solely for the fun of it.

Ayduin and Cydan had been the main culprits, though Rhydian had his moments. She had assumed the ridiculous claim was one of those rare instances, but no. The damned things were real.

Of course they were.

They had been jogging the final stretch of their newest trail when she and Rhydian had come across a veritable horde of little toadstools marching single-file across their path. The shriek that followed would have been embarrassing enough on its own, but Inerys had found yet another way to outdo herself. One moment, she was leaping out of the way in alarm, the next, she was draped over a branch a dozen or so feet from the ground. Rhydian pivoted in place in apparent confusion until he noticed the falling leaves and realized she had not evaporated, but instead, spontaneously taken flight.

She wasn’t sure if she’d been more horrified by her performance, or the hundred or so tiny, screaming shrooms swarming around his feet. They stumbled over damp earth and charred vegetation alike, the latter having been courtesy of Rhydian’s path-clearing methods from hours prior. Most of the ash had been thoroughly stomped into the dirt during their first few laps, but she'd noticed more than a few mushrooms scamper off with sooty, toeless feet.

Wandering plant life was hardly a new concept to her, given she’d grown up within a forest prone to migration, but there was something disconcerting about their smaller fungal counterparts. Perhaps it was the fact they had feet. At least the trees had the courtesy to walk about upon their roots and not a collection of mis-matched arms or fingers.

The thought alone had the hair along the back of her neck standing on end.

Maneuvering herself into a seated position along the branch, she hooked a fang over her lower lip. The ground was much farther down than she’d hoped. In theory, her body should be able to handle the landing. She glanced toward her clawed, light-laced fingers, weighing her options.

Rhydian was studying the canopy, his hands upon his partially exposed hips. The man had yet to break a sweat, but his blue-grey skin had begun to darken along his bare shoulders and chest. He tilted his head, his initial confusion giving way to amusement.

“You know, I’m beginning to think you’re a bit flighty,” he said.

Inerys scowled down at him. “I’m sorry, was that supposed to be funny?”

He chuckled. “No. Just a bad pun. Here, jump down and I’ll catch you.”

Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks.

“I can manage.”

“To twist an ankle, maybe,” he said, already altering his stance, “I won’t let you hit the ground, I promise.”

It wasn’t exactly the ground she was worried about. She knew he would catch her and that, she quietly admitted to herself, was what made her hesitate. If Cydan were in his stead, or spirits’, even Ayduin, she wouldn’t have thought twice about it. She would jump, laugh the situation off and move on. Her current predicament, however, was a touch more complicated. For foolish reasons, perhaps, but the fact remained.

Offering his hand to her when climbing up and down from the saddle was one thing, but catching her was quite another. There was far too much contact involved and the notion alone filled her with a nervous energy that put the fluttering in her chest during those brief touches to shame. His current lack of cover wasn’t helping matters either. One would think she would be used to the sight by now given he and Cydan’s nightly spars, but such was unfortunately not the case.

“I, um–” she glanced around the branches as if she might find an excuse among the leaves.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Just trying to keep my breakfast down,” she lied.

His brow furrowed, but he nodded. “Take a moment, then. There’s no rush.”

In an effort to dissuade her from her more wayward thoughts, she asked, “Are there any other beasties I should know about?”

“That depends, are you going to listen this time?” He wondered.

Narrowing her eyes, she leaned sideways to peer down at him. “I was listening. I just didn’t believe you.”

He crossed his arms and cocked a brow. “Right. What else did I tell you to watch out for, then?”

In truth, she’d stopped listening after the whole walking mushroom bit.

She pursed her lips and he sighed.

“That’s what I thought. Elemental spirits are the main thing. We’re likely to see more of them than anything else,” he said and pointed toward one of the stragglers, “Water spirits like to play dress-up. If you see any wandering vegetation, chances are there’s a spirit inside. You’ll only ever see their true forms if they’re near a water source. The same thing goes for fire ones. Sooner or later, they’ll find our campfire. They’re attracted to whatever element they belong to.”

“Makes sense,” she said.

“They shouldn’t cause us any trouble, so long as we respect them. In the event you accidentally step on one, it’s best to apologize. Most are happy to continue on their way, but some are more inclined toward mischief. A water sprite might only go so far as to wet your socks, but offend a fire spirit and you may find your tent ablaze.”

She made sure to commit that detail to memory. Tent aside, there was nothing worse than wet socks. The last thing she needed was to unknowingly boot some poor spirit across the valley during a hunt.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“Aside from them, we shouldn’t encounter much else. Larger creatures aren’t entirely uncommon, but they’re not nearly as pervasive as they are further in. The prey animals in this valley aren’t enough to satisfy most of the higher tier predators and the wyverns are a deterrent all their own, so we shouldn’t have to worry too much about them. Still, it's best to stay vigilant. Keep your eyes and ears open and pay attention to that nose of yours. It might tip us off before Cydan and I’s awareness does, depending on the situation.”

Higher tier predators was still rather vague, but she could always question he and the others later.

“I’d be a bit more confident if I knew what the scent belonged to, but fair enough. If anything sticks out, I’ll let you know.”

“Good,” he said, “feeling better?”

“A bit.”

He set his shoulders in preparation, arms ready. “All right, then. I’ve got you.”

Sensing there was no other way out of this, she carefully swung her back leg over the branch so that they both faced the same direction.

Spirits preserve her . . .

Inerys closed her eyes.

It was a simple catch, nothing more.

Taking a deep breath, she tipped forward and slid from the branch. She did her best to keep still and make herself an easy target, but the fall had her casting her arms out for purchase. At least when the wyverns dived, there was something to hold on to. She’d never been in true free-fall before.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Her heart leapt into her throat, but strong arms caught her by her shoulders and mid thighs. A soft, surprised grunt was all she managed before he carefully set her on her feet. He brought her close when she wavered and for a moment, she thought she might have preferred being dropped instead. She’d placed her hands upon his chest for balance, the stark difference in their coloration enough to make her stare. Her fingers gently curled against the warmth of his skin.

She held her breath, all too aware of where his hands held her steady.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” He asked, searching her face as if he worried she might faint.

“I think so,” she said, “thanks to you, of course.”

He backed a step to hold her at arm’s length in his appraisal.

“You certainly keep me on my toes. I’d ask how you managed that particular feat just now, but I have a feeling you know about as much as I do.”

She gave him a tentative smile, “I think my strength got the better of me. Again.”

Humming, he glanced up to the tree, “Well, at least you didn’t knock it over this time.”

She grimaced.

“I’d like to say it won’t become a habit, but all evidence seems to point to the contrary.”

“You might be on to something.” he chuckled.

“Please don’t tell the others.”

There were more than a few mishaps for her to live down as it was and this one did not need to be added to the pyre. She was certain she could coax his silence, but then she caught the flicker of mischief in his eyes. His lips edged into the barest suggestion of a smirk and she had the sudden urge to pinch him in his flank for his treachery.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

Perhaps a pinch was too lenient . . .

“What sort of deal?”

He leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper, “I’ll keep your little secret if you tell me why it is your face turns pink.”

It flushed red, if the sudden blazing in her cheeks were any indication. Scowling, she backed out of his reach and brought a hand to her throat as if she might hide the offending evidence, the other wrapping about her middle. His smile only grew and she wondered if his words were as much an experiment as they were a true inquiry.

“It’s called a blush,” she said, “And it just . . . happens. Sometimes.”

When he didn’t answer, she pressed her lips thin. He didn’t know what a blush was, did he? At least, not the way she understood it. Now that she actually thought about it, she hadn’t seen anything comparable among the others. Their skin did not change unless they were exposed to some sort of moisture. It was more noticeable upon he and Ayduin, though she did recall a darkening along the tips of Sorisanna’s ears the other night during the group’s usual banter.

Sighing, she chose to elaborate, “It happens whenever I’m embarrassed or self conscious, I suppose. Or if the temperatures outside fluctuate too much.”

“So it’s emotional and environmental?”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Did it happen before your change?”

“More often than I’d like to admit,” she said, crossing her arms, “but it wasn’t caused by my incident, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He nodded, moreso to himself.

“Others of your former kind did it as well, then. These . . . Hounds?” He asked.

“Women are more prone to it, from my experience, but yes.”

“Interesting,” he said.

“Why do you ask?”

“I’ve never seen anyone change colors as often as you do. I wanted to see if my theories were correct.”

She tilted her head. Theories? Coming from anyone else, the line of questioning would have been absurd. Though, she had to remember she was as alien to him as he was to her. His curiosity wasn’t exactly unfounded.

She tried and failed to suppress a grin. He wasn’t the only one who could set a trap.

“You’ve been meaning to ask me for a while, haven’t you?”

Rhydian rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at her.

“Perhaps,” he said after a moment.

The top edge of his long ear darkened a shade. It was slight, but Inerys hadn’t missed it. It seemed they did have an equivalent, after all.

“Interesting,” she cooed, “is there anything else you’ve been dying to know before Ayduin comes looking for us?”

He cast her a half-hearted glare, but she expectantly held his gaze until he relented. Eventually, he dropped his shoulders and sighed through his nose as if to say, fine. He gestured to his face.

“Those tiny spots on your nose, what are they?”

She blinked and subconsciously traced the ridge of her cheekbone to the bridge of her nose.

“You mean my freckles?”

He dipped his head in affirmation.

“They’re just spots. I don’t really have an explanation. My mother always told me I inherited them from my father’s side.”

He squinted at them.

“They’re strange,” he said, “but I like them. They suit you.”

No one had ever complimented her freckles before. Coming from him, it was oddly endearing. She thought to offer a compliment of her own, but maybe that was a foolish reflex.

“Thank you,” she murmured, turning her attention down the path, “we should probably get back. I was only half joking about Ayduin.”

“That’s probably for the best. Did you still want to get a hunt in before sunrise?”

“If we can,” she said.

Inerys had plans of her own before the night was through. She only hoped she wouldn’t come to regret them. Which was entirely possible. She cursed her stupid, bleeding heart.

~*~

Ephaxus’ struggles had been as cursory a concern as his presence had been. At their previous camp, Inerys rarely saw him and on the odd occasion they actually noticed one another, she was often met with a glare. Sometimes, bared teeth. So, she’d given him a wide berth.

Unfortunately, that was no longer an option.

Their new set up made avoiding one another nearly impossible and unlike their resident curmudgeon of a sage, it was difficult to ignore a wyvern the size of her grandmother’s cottage. Terrifying as he was, she was fairly certain he wouldn’t actually harm her. Her conversations with the females had helped her reconcile the fact they were people too and every bit as smart as anyone else. They just happened to come in a more beastly package. Tanuzet’s subtle encouragement had helped steel Inerys’ nerves enough to actually follow through with this brilliant idea of hers in the first place.

The female had strategically placed herself beside Inerys’ tent, the bulk of her wings breaking the camp’s line of sight of the rest of the field behind her. All Inerys had had to do was sneak under the canvas and slip under the cover of her wing. The deer she planned on using as her peace offering had been retrieved and neatly tucked under the wyvern’s hind leg, as promised. Now, she simply had to follow through.

I will be here, at your back, she assured.

Thank you, Inerys said, hoping to convey her appreciation through an accompanying emotional nudge in place of a smile.

She could have sworn she felt a flicker of pride from the female in turn.

Adjusting the buck upon her shoulders, she cycled her essence and set out across the short stretch of field. Unlike the others, who actively rested around the campfire, Ephaxus chose to remain further back. He was curled around himself like some great, winged cat, though she knew better than to believe he was asleep. Unaware.

His eyes might be closed, but she sensed his attention. It chased gooseflesh along her skin, yet she refused to balk. Tanuzet had told her their kind despised cowardice. Which meant there was no going back. Not if Inerys wanted him to listen. If he still chose to hate her afterward, that was fine. At least she could tell herself she had tried.

She stopped a respectful distance away, right as one large eye opened to reveal the narrowing slit of a pupil amid a pool of molten rosegold. He stirred, nostrils whistling as he angled his head to take her in in full. Scaly lips pulled back, revealing dagger-like fangs that numbered in the dozens. His growl was low, his face far too expressive for one that wasn’t human. The disdain in his eyes alone could have stripped her to her core.

Viper, he said, voice rolling through her mind like tempered thunder.

She refused to let her breath catch, nor allow her body to yield so much as a single step. The creature slumbering inside her reared its head as her heart raced, its influence creeping into her limbs like oil. It had her own lips peeling back away from her fangs before she latched onto it, her mental claws digging deep. She would not let that thing ruin this for her. It recoiled in surprise and after a moment, released its own hold entirely. It watched, though, waiting from the shadows of her soul.

It could take her entirely, if it chose to, but for now it was content to see how she handled this on her own.

Inerys met his glare.

This is for you, she said, kneeling to slide the buck from her shoulders.

A hiss rattled between his teeth.

I do not need handouts, girl. Least of all from you.

She’d been prepared for this.

It’s not a handout. It’s a gift, she said, You and I . . . have been at odds. I’d like to change that.

His lips arched higher, but he didn’t snap at her. He hadn’t rejected her. She felt Tanuzet’s subtle warmth at the edge of her mind and it gave her the courage to continue.

I am not your enemy, much as I might look it. I ask that you give me a chance. We were both hurt. In different ways, but the fact remains. I didn’t ask for this and while I know some people will only ever see what I am and not who I am, I’m hoping you’re different. I’d like to earn your trust, if you’ll let me.

He studied her, bringing his snout in close. His lips relaxed, but only just. Still, she remained rooted in place, her hands loose at her sides, much as she wanted to hug them around herself. Her gloves were absent, leaving her fractured skin exposed beneath her rolled-up sleeves. The tip of his nose grazed the fingertips of her right hand, nostrils flaring wide. Something unreadable flickered across his face, but he drew away, inspecting her offering instead.

Why bring me this?

You need to gain your strength back as much as I do. Rhydian said this one was close to its fifth ascension. The meat would do more good if it went to you.

A rumble escaped him as he considered.

You have already taken what you need?

She nodded. Sorisanna has stored what she can in her annex, in the event we do not find more of the same advancement.

For a time, he said nothing and Inerys debated taking her leave. The horizon was beginning to grow bright. It was only a matter of time before light split the sky and she was without her hat.

At last, he said, Very well. I accept your gift, little viper.