“Yes.”
A side of his mouth lifted, then he drank his tea. “When I knew you, I wanted to be around your family more than at home in a tree.” He drank, set down his cup, rolled his shoulders. “I’d had my tree for over two centuries, but it was…empty.” He glanced around the room that was as crammed with stuff—female knick-knacks—as any Jenni had ever seen. “I didn’t know how families lived.” His voice became cool and precise. “I didn’t know how males lived in a home. Not until I met your brothers and your father and your family.”
“Ah.” So her brothers and their easy camaraderie had snared him, then her father’s gentle and scholarly and loving and honorable nature.
“So nice,” he murmured.
“It was,” Jenni said, thought back to her childhood home, the love of her large and rowdy family.
His nostrils widened as he inhaled. “We can stay in my tree tonight.” He met her eyes with unusual intensity, then glanced away. “I want you there.”
She had to bite her tongue to stop from asking if he’d taken Synicess there. That was before. Jenni had started to resolve so many personal issues over the past week, was shedding the grief and guilt that had lived in her like thorns for so many years. Why did Aric’s time with Synicess bother her so much? Maybe because Jenni was tentatively planning on Aric being in her future.
That didn’t mean she needed to know about his past, though, or he needed to know of her other lovers.
Leafswirl stood, nodding to some unknown comments in her mind. Then she stood and spun, dancing like her name…like a leaf on a spring breeze, smiling and humming. When she stopped she had tree needles in her hair.
“Dear children! We have all talked about the spiders and webs and anyone caught in the forests when the shadleeches came.”
“And?” Aric prompted.
She settled on her stool and it changed into a different chair than Jenni had seen before—cream-colored upholstery with red poppies, fat arms and a soft, cushioned seat. “The shadleeches do feast on humans…suck out what little magic they have. But we think that the humans aren’t too harmed and their magic returns over time.”
Jenni and Aric stared at Leafswirl.
“Researchers, campers…over the last two years,” Leafswirl said. She wriggled a little. “As for halflings…a couple of rangers are halflings and they have more trouble…or did. Sungreen’s lover is a ranger—quarter dwarf and quarter elf and half human—who now has a very interesting spiderweb on his butt.” Leafswirl grinned. “They had already decided to test the spider theory.”
Aric snorted.
“Sungreen didn’t tell me where her web impression was.”
“So the result was…” Jenni said.
“Both Sungreen and her ranger were safe in the forest after being marked by the web. She did think she saw a shadleech caught in a spiderweb, but none reached them.” Leafswirl poured more tea for herself, looked up with a serious expression. “The shadleeches most like attacking near dawn or twilight, when they can’t be seen easily and the magic of the change from night to day, and day to night, occurs. We’d stopped going out then much.” She glanced at Aric. “Even the rare Treeman—a dryad’s son, like Aric. The horrible creatures aren’t good for any of us, not Treefolk or Lightfolk.” She trembled. “Then, just a few days ago, the spiders and spiderwebs came from dusk to dawn and…” She frowned, swooped her free hand. “There was an immediate feeling of—of…niceness. Or maybe a return to how the forest felt before shadleeches.” A smile came and went on her face. “I don’t recall that much.”
Dryads were famous for living in the moment.
“Anyway, we noticed right away that everything felt better. And there was more magic around, too. As if the shadleeches hadn’t fed on the trees—or anything else. Then we noticed the webs—particularly at night—and the spiders, and you know the rest.” She sipped just once before she fixed a stare on Aric. “You did it, didn’t you? Something you did saved us.” Her voice was low and lilting.
Inside Jenni winced. During the Yellowstone bubble event she’d been selfish, concentrating on her desires. Aric had helped. He’d thought of his mother and sisters and the Treefolk.
He placed his hand over one of his mother’s that rested on the table, looked at Jenni. “We did it.” Shaking his head, he nabbed another cookie—a shortbread bar. “I can’t believe that it’s already paid off.”
“What?” asked Leafswirl.
Aric leaned forward and said, “It’s the bubble event—”
“No!” Leafswirl threw up her hands. “Too complicated for me. I don’t need to know.” She sighed and shared a smile between her son and Jenni. “I’m just glad the shadleeches are gone. There will be a great celebration on the spring equinox.”
Jenni froze. The equinox. Of course the last bubble event would happen then. The changing of the seasons, the rotation of the Earth. This was all about the Earth and magic rising from the core of the planet.
She stared at Aric. He raised his brows in question. Did that mean he’d already figured the timing out, while the penny had just dropped for her? Probably—the Treefolk were aware of the slant of the sun, as Leafswirl had just demonstrated. Why hadn’t Etesian named the date of the event as the spring equinox? Because he would not commit to only one day. But the time period he’d quoted bracketed that day. Maybe because when she went to check out the energies near the location she might speed things up or slow them down.
But she would bet everything she had that the last bubble would rise on the spring equinox.
“So you see,” Leafswirl was saying, “you can test it yourself if you want. But you both should be able to get a spiderweb for your protection.” She wrinkled her nose. “I suppose I’ll have to go out sometime and get marked.”
“Yes. You must,” Aric said. “The girls?” he asked.
Leafswirl nodded. “I just spoke with most of them, and those who weren’t connected will hear from the others.” Her smile was back. “We will all be having web traceries on our bodies.” She tilted her head. “If I must, I must, but I think I would like it on my shoulder….” She sighed. “I will have to find a pretty one to mark me, that’s important.”
Aric hid his smile with his teacup.
His mother pursed her lips. “It will be the new fashion.”
“So, Jenni, where do you want your tatt?” he asked.
“Yes, where, Jenni? What do you think would be a good place?” Leafswirl asked.
“I don’t know. Did Sungreen or your friend upstairs say whether the mark had any other effects? Like the shadleech specifically avoided that area in particular?”
Leafswirl looked surprised. “I don’t know, and I don’t think we talked about that. Hmm. Maybe Sungreen’s lover has given that some thought. I think I’ll go ask her.” The dryad waved her hand. “Be at home.”
Jenni got the idea that Leafswirl wanted to consult with her dryad friends more on “fashion” than anything else.
Patting Aric’s head and with an absent smile, Leafswirl stepped through the wall and disappeared.
Aric put his cup down, shoved away his plate. “She’ll be back, later. I’ve had about as much tea as I can stand.” He stretched and his shoulders popped. “Let’s take a walk outside.” He took her backpack and bag and shoved them into greenspace. She figured he’d pluck them out later.
Jenni hadn’t missed having a window to look out until then. “What of the rain?”
“The fog has burned off and the clouds have cleared,” Aric said. He’d know the weather from his magic without seeing it.
The forest was gorgeous, of course. Towering trees with dew on their bark, the ground underfoot thick with fallen needles and leaves from brush and ferns. Jenni inhaled what she could only think of as the scent of primeval greenness. All of it seemed to echo Aric, though she knew it was the other way around—everything in Aric resonated of this forest. Even his elven nature whispered of the sighing of the air flowing through the great
trees.
Then she began to notice the shadleech depredations. Many of the huge trees showed a shadow where their dryads had been killed. The trees seemed to be grieving. They would survive, but wouldn’t thrive as much as if there were a dryad living within them…and there were occasional sobs of dryads inside the remaining trees that twisted Jenni’s insides hard.
At these, Aric would step up and place his palms on them, tell them of the hope of the spiderwebs and to contact his mother. There would be the silence of someone listening, then a pop Jenni felt inwardly and the dryad would be gone…probably to the dryad meeting place.
“It’s wonderful,” Jenni said, in a voice pitched lower than she would use with humans. “But sad.”
Aric took her fingers, squeezed them. “It will get better, and the forest will endure. It has managed to survive through the worst of human logging.” A ripple passed down his back and Jenni realized that he’d been around to see that—fight that?
“Look.” He pointed to where weak sunlight filtered through the trees, catching on tiny threads of a filmy spiderweb disintegrating as they watched. They hurried over just in time to see the whole thing collapse into a few filaments. Aric bent down and poked the small dust-bunny-looking thing and it wrapped around his index finger. He sucked in a sharp breath, lifted his hand as if to fling it away, then set his teeth and drew in noisy breaths for a minute or two as the thing sank into his skin.
“I thought it wasn’t supposed to hurt,” Jenni said. “It does, doesn’t it?”
With a short jerk of his head, Aric answered, “Yesss.” There was a hit of whistling air from his throat. “Guess it’s because I’m not all Treeman. Wonder if the dryads asked any males about this.”
Jenni cleared her throat. “There was that dryad’s lover.”
Now Aric laughed with true humor and Jenni was glad to see that whatever pain he’d experienced was gone. “A guy with a spider tatt on his butt. I don’t think he was paying much attention to the web.” Aric frowned. “And how did he get something on his butt anyway?”
“I don’t think I want to visualize that,” Jenni said with a small, prim sniff.
Aric slid a gaze to her and grinned. “But I’ll do my best to ensure that you don’t feel a—”
Shadleeches struck!
CHAPTER 21
ONE LATCHED ON TO JENNI’S CHEEK BEFORE she saw it. Sharp teeth bit and she flung up her arms. Too late. It wrapped its stingraylike wings around her head as if to smother her. The scent of old bubblegum enveloped her and she choked. Her magic began to drain. No! She ignited flame inside her, shot it to her head, her cheek, incinerated the thing. It died with a whimper, and fierce gladness followed the warmth of her fire throughout her body.
She used some of the fire energy to force out the pain, meld the muscle and skin together, she hoped.
She turned to see Aric slashing with a sword in his right hand, cleaving the evil magical creatures into bits…that vanished. The infestation wasn’t large, about a half dozen. Then there were three. Aric flung out his hand with the silver-green tracery of the spiderweb on his finger. A shadleech tried to back-wing, but Aric’s finger pierced it and it screamed and vanished.
Jenni clapped her hands together, focused hard. She could do this, could send controlled fire spearing into one. She’d had enough practice with her magic lately. There! It burnt the shadleech to ashes. Now there was one left and it threw itself at Jenni, but Aric and his sword were before her and the thing was dead.
Panting breaths shook Jenni’s chest. Aric appeared imperturbable…so impassive it looked like he might have rooted in the forest. When he raised his feet slowly from the ground, shaking them, Jenni figured she’d been right.
The shadleeches had surprised him, too.
“All we’ve heard was that they don’t like daylight.”
“But they’ve attacked me during the day before, Kon— The great Dark one’s shadleeches, those that were created on his estate. I know these were sent by him, they smell like him.”
Aric stared at her. She looked around for some piece that was left, nothing. Setting her hands on her hips, she scowled. “Not only do they have a geas on them to continue attacking me, but another spell to make sure they disintegrate when defeated.”
“I think you’re right.” Aric inhaled deeply, tilted his head as if cataloging all the scents that came to his nostrils. Well, he’d know this forest. Another deep breath that expanded his very nice chest.
“The Dark one didn’t die,” Jenni said—she’d been hoping—at the same time that Aric said, “The creature isn’t as hurt as I’d believed.” Aric’s lips tightened. “Though there are ways for a great Darkfolk to get magic and energy and life force.”
By killing others—humans, some of the minor Lightfolk if he could get his hands on them…or his tentacles or whatever he had. Jenni shuddered. She didn’t mind imagining such stuff for the game, but real life…no, just no. Too damn sad.
Like her parents and family. The fact that that thought came second to the worry of present unknowns actually comforted her. She was placing the event in the past. Never to be forgotten, always to be sore, but not guiding her present. She sent a small mental thanks to God.
Aric was studying his hand. The spiderweb on his finger was now a shiny silverlike scar tissue with a faint outline of dark evergreen.
Jenni smiled. “Interesting look.”
His gaze lifted to her. He frowned, strode the two paces forward it took to reach her, touched her cheek. “Faint bite mark here.”
She winced. “Really?”
“Yes, but I don’t think it will scar.” His fingers trailed down her neck, sending tickles of awareness of him as a man deep within her and she reluctantly stepped back.
His eyebrows lifted and dropped. “And I looked…but perhaps I didn’t examine you closely enough.” He came close to her, bent his head and touched her lips—gently, tenderly. With affection and maybe something more.
Emotions welled within her, yearning for this man’s touch, not just sexual, but loving. How long had it been since she’d had loving touches in her life before he’d returned and shaken her from her rut? How foolish of her to have closed herself down, away from loving. She didn’t want to think that it was only Aric who could affect her this way. Surely not.
But he was the one lover she’d had who had known her before and after her family’s death. That was major.
She put her arms around him and leaned into him for an enveloping hug. He felt good. He felt…almost…like home.
They stood in the quiet of the forest, with birds returning and calling, small creatures rustling around them. The breeze, which had vanished with the shadleech attack, now sang in the treetops far above them.
Aric gave her a last squeeze, then took her hand. “I want to speak with my mother and the other dryads, but it would best if we did that from my place. Will you come home with me?”
“Yes.”
He turned to the closest tree, one that appeared to have lost a dryad, bowed and asked permission to use it for travel. Jenni heard no response, but Aric smiled and bowed again and they stepped into it. This time there was no sinking into the greenspace between molecules. The tree was naturally thick enough to hold them both.
“Jenni, the tree is a little cold, can you send warmth through it?” Aric asked softly.
Jenni trembled. A real challenge, to warm the tree with her fire magic without harming it. But it was a beautiful tree. “Absolutely,” she said. She disengaged her fingers from Aric’s clasp. Maybe he thought she could heat the interior just standing there and expanding her magic and warmth around her—something her mother or sisters had done—but not Jenni, after so many years.
Delicately she placed her hands on the inside of the bark, felt the coolness of the pulp.
The tree grieved, too, for its lost dryad. The magical woman had been with it for a couple of centuries. Jenni matched her emotion to the tree’s, sensed the excruciatingly slo
w pulse of its life. Decreasing her own metabolism to the minimum, she knew she must be very careful. Fire magic moved fast. She dripped a particle or two into the tree, they cycled quickly and the tree seemed to shudder, but to Jenni the coldness of the rainy spring, the deep chill of grief at the loss of its dryad decreased as comforting warmth—even to a tree—spread through it. To Jenni’s surprise the small amount she’d given the tree moved quickly through it, then was absorbed by it.
“Just enough,” Aric was murmuring when Jenni rose from her trance. He was stroking the inner wall of the tree. “Just warm enough, comfort enough, soothing enough.”
Jenni felt gratitude from the tree, like a slow drop of honey onto her head, sliding cell by cell into her. This time she bowed. “Thanks to you, too.”
Aric encircled her with his arms. “I think it’s time to let the dryads know that this tree is prime for another companion.” They walked forward, this time into the greenspace that flashed around Jenni in tones of green and redwood, then were in a tree so huge that there was little greenhome space.
He smiled, set an arm around her waist. “My sequoia. It’s one of the greatest in circumference in the forest, though I’ve made sure that it has been magically protected from being discovered by humans since I first moved in.”
The floor was redwood-colored “planks,” with oriental rugs in a deep blue. The circular walls were a pale sage-green. A bit of white caught Jenni’s eye and she looked up to see the blue dome of the sky, complete with clouds.
He left her for a moment as she studied the sky, returned and put a Treefolk-mossy-herbal poultice on her cheek. “It’s looking okay, but this should finish off the healing.”
“Thanks. Pretty sky.”
Aric waved a hand. “Illusion.” But his expression was proud.
“Wonderful,” Jenni said.
“I have several stories.” Another gesture and Jenni saw the pattern of wood knots that would extend into a staircase on the far wall. Aric continued, “But this is my main living space.”
The furniture was curved, but looked familiar. The style of frame and cushions was close to what she’d grown up with. The walls were painted with landscape murals of panoramic vistas—a beach, the view of the front range mountains from the high-rise in Denver and a view of the eastern plains from the same building. There was a magical window that looked out on the forest. “Nice,” she said.
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