by Hickory Mack
"When I was in that basement, it was terrible. I used you, the thought of you, as my mental escape from what was happening there. I think I may have gone a little crazy," she admitted.
"To be honest I'm not sure that I'm not still a little crazy. You were there with me, the entire time you were by my side. I hallucinated you, it's so wrong, but it gave me the strength to get through what they were doing to me. I'm grateful to you,” Chiori said.
His frown didn’t ease with her words. Without either of them knowing why she’d created a substitute for him in her mind. She’d needed him, and he hadn’t been there for her. Makkai hugged her, pressing her tight. She stiffened in surprise, then softened into him.
"I didn't want that for you, when I sent you away. I thought they'd take care of you," he said.
"I knew you were trying to help me, in your own way. I don't see him anymore, the other you. I think Airi or Asuka took him away from me when they healed me," Chiori looked wistful.
"You could, when you first arrived," Makkai said, it wasn't a question. She'd been looking at her hallucinated version of him, while he'd been standing right there. Airi had mentioned more than once how unusually broken the girl’s mind had been. He hadn’t given the comments enough weight.
"Yes, I could. You're much better in person than what my brain dreamed up," she said, pressing her cheek to his chest. “He never hugged me. I couldn’t touch him at all.”
"Tch," Makkai said and let her go.
“It isn’t like I trust anyone. I don’t trust Fen. He only helped me for you. Asuka is friendly, but obviously jealous of our connection, and she doesn’t even know what it is yet. If I trust you too much, it’s because I feel like I've known you for weeks, and you’re all I’ve got. You’re my safe place. I know you’ll protect me. Even when you weren't real you protected me,” she blushed deeper than she ever had in her life, looking at his feet.
Makkai’s finger touched her chin. When she looked up he leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead. Chiori leaned in, her heart pounding.
“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I’ve put you in a difficult place by keeping you here.”
“It’s not as hard as where I came from,” Chiori answered, flexing her fingers. “Nothing hurts anymore.”
“Well, that’s a check on the positive side,” he gave her a wry grin. “I'll do what I can to be worthy of your trust, I won't let you down. If any of it ever gets to be too much, let me know. We can skip out and give you a break whenever you need it.”
“Okay,” she agreed, looking out over the water. The sun was starting to dip low into the sky.
“I want to show you something before we go back,” he rowed them down a mile of shoreline and under the low branches of a wisteria tree, dripping with beautiful purple flowers. The setting sun turned the sky a brilliant pink. Chiori’s chest hurt from the beauty of it all and a pair of tears landed on her cheeks.
“Chiori?”
“Memories being made before torture and all that,” she answered, wiping the tears away. “They’re good tears, happy ones.” He accepted this and stayed silent, watching her watch the sky and the flowers swaying in the light breeze and he felt it thicken just a tiny bit, their bond.
When the sky turned to twilight he rowed them back to the dock, helped her out of the boat and jumped them back to the matriarch tree. He lit half a dozen werelights so she could go inside and change into her pajamas, then they traded places so he could do the same.
She felt it then. A presence, strong and curious and nearby. She wasn’t sure why, but it felt familiar, though not familiar enough to put her at ease. Chiori stood rigid, too afraid to call for Lord Makkai. When he came out and scented her fear he handed her the large blanket he had with him. He moved out into the clearing and breathed in deep, taking in the scents and sounds, tasting the magics in the air. When he figured it out he relaxed, Chiori doing the same once he did.
He returned and took the blanket, laying it on the ground, extinguishing
his lights. They sat on it together and Chiori looked around uncertainly.
“What have you done to make a dryad so interested in you, Little One?” Lord Makkai asked.
“Erm, nothing?” she blinked, confused.
“It’s the third time one has come so close since you’ve arrived. They are not part of my household, nor are they officially protected members of my territory, but we share the land with one another, more or less amicably. This is their forest as much as mine. They may even have a better claim to it than I do, they’ve been here longer, some of them have been parented by these trees,” Lord Makkai looked off to the distance.
“If I irritate them they can make my life pretty difficult. If they irritate me I relocate them, permanently. Usually they stay away, we’re allies, not friends. Our only bond is one of mutual survival. It’s curious enough to brave my irritation,” he said. Chiori still looked confused.
“As far as I know, I’ve never met one,” she said.
“There’s no point in chasing her down to ask her what she’s up to. Dryad’s can melt into a tree and be a hundred miles away in half a second. I don’t think she’ll hurt you, you haven’t damaged any trees, so she won’t have a vendetta against you.”
“There was something,” Chiori remembered, “the night I left the nest to warn you. Before I made it to the path out, something was watching me, it felt a lot like what was out here, but stronger.”
“Two dryads, then? That just makes me more curious,” Lord Makkai said, laying on his back on the blanket, urging Chiori to do the same. “We’ll have to wait until they’re brave enough to approach and make their intentions known.”
They looked up. Parts of the sky were covered in clouds, but most of it was clear and the stars were spectacular. They held hands, fingers intertwined while he pointed out different constellations as told by his people.
Inari, his father had one, and when he pointed it out she told him she’d been raised to know it as Orion the Hunter. They bantered back and forth before they both conceded that they didn’t know who’d named it first, the humans or the fox demons, though he insisted his father was older than any of the Western civilizations. When she yawned for the third time he insisted it was time to sleep.
Up in the tree, Chiori snuggled in close, watching little fireflies blink past.
“Thank you for tonight.”
“You’re welcome. In the future, our every day can end like this. Something to look forward to,” he kissed the top of her head.
“Goodnight, Makkai.”
“Goodnight, my Chiori.”
Chapter 15
The next three days were a misty, hazy bliss. Chiori fell asleep each night and woke each morning carefully protected in Lord Makkai’s arms. He made them breakfast with ingredients that were a mix of what was already in the ice box, and whatever appeared on the counter before they woke. When it was clear that she wanted to help he began instructing her. Peel, whisk, chop, mix.
She cut her finger once, just a small thing, but there was a lot of blood. Lord Makkai had whirled around from preparing hash browns, ears flat back, his black eyes blazing. She’d taken a single step back, frightened by his intensity, the knife still in her hand. He’d reached for her slowly, deliberately taking her wrist and raising it to eye level, inspecting the wound's depth.
“Tch,” he said, backing up and pulling her with him to the closet that held his futon and blankets. Blood pooled in the palm of her hand and dripped in a rivulet down her wrist. He grabbed a pillow, stripped off its case and ripped a long strip from its silky fabric. He gently tugged her along outside, dropping the knife on the counter along the way.
Lord Makkai sat her on the steps and kneeled in front of her. The girl was a mess. Her feet were spotted with blood, and they’d left a thin trail of red splatters through the cabin.
Chiori was more interested in his reaction than she was worried about the pain in her finger, she’d had worse. The look on his
face. His ears back, his eyes wide with concern, Makkai looked like he was hurting enough for both of them. Chiori glanced at her finger then back at him suspiciously. She didn’t know enough about his magic. Maybe he was feeling the pain for her.
Before she could ask he cupped her hand in both of his, so tenderly, then leaned forward and licked the droplets forming at her elbow. His mouth slowly following and cleaning the trail of blood to her finger. Chiori held her breath. He put her finger in his mouth and pressed it against his tongue.
“W-wh-what are you doing?” she stuttered, heat spreading from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. Lord Makkai didn’t look up, or give any indication he’d heard her, just held her there. He was so close, in the daylight where she could see every detail. Lashes so long they touched his cheek with his eyes cast down like this. His smokey scent hinted of cinnamon and cloves. Those fine, furry ears were so inviting.
Chiori clenched her free hand into a fist and remembered to breathe. In her head she repeatedly told herself she would not pet the demon. But they looked so soft! Tentatively she reached out, closing the gap painfully slow, afraid she would be caught before she could be brave enough. It felt different than at night, cuddled up and safe. This felt vulnerable.
Chiori hesitated at the last second, her fingers a hair’s breadth away. He could reject her, and it would suck. Biting her lip, she did it anyway. Impulsive, maybe, but the pull was so strong she couldn’t help herself.
She touched her fingertips to his hair, so black it matched the night sky. Makkai’s ears flicked forward in surprise and she froze guiltily, but he kept his gaze away from hers and his ears softened. Chiori accepted it as permission and lightly stroked his hair, so silky and soft.
He didn’t protest the treatment, which bolstered her bravery and she touched his ear, a stupidly big smile splitting her face. He was so floofy! He sighed and looked up, her finger still in his mouth. His eyes caught hers, an unreadable expression on his face and Chiori snatched her free hand back to her lap, wishing she could melt into the wooden step.
It had happened again, when she’d touched his ear he’d felt it, a demanding tug at his heart, tethering him further to the girl. The magic of their bond had grown stronger. There was nothing in her eyes indicating she’d felt it, and that was deeply disappointing. He inspected her finger, releasing Chiori’s eyes so she could breathe again. His mouth was missing the frown she’d expected to see there.
“Forgive my selfishness,” Makkai murmured while delicately covering her cut and wrapping the strip around her finger twice before tying it off. “Fingers and heads bleed a lot, making it look worse than it is. It’s slowed down, but I can’t heal you, Airi is half a continent away and Asuka cannot come here. We can go back to the house if you want, but if it doesn’t hurt too much, I’d rather not share you with them yet.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, looking at his knees and trying to muster more volume than a whisper, failing miserably. He touched her cheek, then lifted her chin, making her look at him.
“If it were anyone else they’d already be dead,” he said, “but you aren’t anyone else. So, I’ll allow it.”
He took her hands and deliberately placed them on his ears, an annoyed amusement on his face. The tiniest squeak came from Chiori’s lips and after a few seconds of embarrassed dithering she petted and squished and rubbed, her finger completely forgotten. He gave her a full minute unhindered before she remembered herself, her cheeks reddening.
“Have you gotten that out of your system?” he asked, the tiniest smirk at the corner of his mouth. Chiori nodded, covering her eyes in embarrassment. Makkai gave a low chuckle and moved away, back into the cabin to finish their breakfast.
He didn’t touch her again for the remainder of that day. While he didn’t forbid her from helping, she wasn’t invited to use anything sharp after that, he did those jobs himself.
They took a small hike through the forest and talked about the plants they saw. It was enjoyable, but reminded Chiori how out of shape she’d become. Fen came later, scolding Lord Makkai on behalf of Airi for working the girl too hard. He’d brought dinner and fresh clothes in what was to become the routine over the next few days.
After they ate Chiori cleaned up in the simple shower they’d set up behind the cabin while Lord Makkai spoke with the boar about affairs in the house.
When she came out, refreshed and clean, Fen took his leave and they played a game with Makkai’s illusion magic. She faced a row of six apples. All looked delicious, but only one was real and she had to decipher the difference between the real and the fakes. Chiori was stumped. She picked up and handled each one. They looked and felt and smelled so real that she resorted to taking bites out of each of them, the fakes disappearing in her hand, until she found the real one.
Amused and challenged, she demanded another round. Makkai responded by bringing out a clear mason jar that he turned to five. Chiori screwed up her face. She couldn’t bite into a glass jar, but she wouldn’t give up.
When she’d done everything she could think of except break them all, she folded her arms on the step and rested her chin on them so she was eye level with the glasses, studying them with narrowed eyes. Finally she grunted and flopped over on the grass dramatically.
“Alright you win. I give up, what’s the secret? You’re too good at this game,” she accused and he smiled.
“If I told you it wouldn’t be a secret anymore,” he said. “Think of how much more satisfying it will be for you when you figure it out on your own.”
“You mean if I figure it out,” she said.
“No, I mean when,” he corrected.
When bedtime came she changed into her pajamas, then he carried her into the tree and cradled her against him as though nothing had been amiss.
One the fourth day Chiori found herself alone with Fen, both equally annoyed about it. She sat on the step for a long time, her arms crossed in front of her, pouting while Fen did the same, muttering about not being a babysitter.
There had been a disturbance in the forest, about ten miles east. Lord Makkai had been actively listening to her stories about how surly Harry had been and how much she’d adored him when he’d suddenly looked distracted. He’d taken her hand, apologized and called for Fen, promising to return after he took care of whatever had invaded his forest.
Chiori knew it was ridiculous, the pain in her chest. The depth in which she missed him. It didn’t make any sense. She hadn’t been separated from him for more than a few minutes at a time in days, she should be missing her time alone. Instead the empty space he’d left throbbed incessantly. Pressing her hand to her heart she understood what it was. This was the bond, it had to be.
Catching Fen staring at her in a moment of unguarded curiosity she huffed irritably, put her shoes on and stomped into the forest, calling out that he had better not follow her.
He did, of course, for a while. Fen gave her space, staying far enough back to let her feel alone. Almost. Muttering about the intrusion just loud enough for Fen to hear, Chiori ambled about aimlessly, though she stayed near the cabin, not doing much of anything. After a while her stomach rumbled and Fen made a face. He took a deep breath, taking in the scents of the forest and peered between the trees.
“There’s nobody around, I’m going in to make lunch, Milly wants you fed more often, whenever you're hungry. Don’t go wandering off, I don’t want to have to come looking for you,” Fen said, satisfied she wouldn’t be kidnapped the moment he left. Chiori stuck her tongue out at his back.
Without his constant eye she explored, unable to relax with the constant pull at her heart, she had to do something to pass the time. She wandered away from the cabin, unable to see its sloped roof anymore.
Slipping off her shoes she climbed a long-dead tree that had fallen into another tree, creating a wooden jungle gym. She scurried her way up, working her muscles, despairing at how much strength she’d lost. Playing at being a monkey tired her out to
o quickly. She climbed back down and spotted a large hole in another tree. Standing on tiptoe she peeked inside, scampering away with a yelp and a giggle of fright when something growled from within.
She’d picked up a handful of pinecones and was gently touching an orange mushroom at the base of the pine when the air changed. The birds had gone silent, the tree branches stopped creaking and swaying in the breeze. Everything felt closer, more focused. Chiori stood and tried to hear through the cushion of quiet.
“You are a difficult one to speak to. He never leaves you alone,” a strong, feminine voice sang. Chiori whirled around, but there was no one there. She dropped her pinecones and picked up a stick. A weak weapon, she knew, but better than nothing. The woman’s voice chimed out in laughter.
“There’s no need for that, I am not here to harm you. I’m seeking a moment of your time, if you don’t mind,” she said. One of the trees seemed to move. A face formed in its bark and between one blink and the next a woman emerged.
She was part woman, part tree. She had two distinct legs, but somewhere below the knee they turned into a tangled web of roots, connected to the Earth, lifting and writhing like a knot of snakes with each step she took. Her fingers were long and spindly, her body thin and willowy, her skin the deep brown of freshly tilled soil.
Under the vines and leaves she was nude, one breast covered by a pair of leaves, the other left bare. Her face was heart shaped, with a perfect, rosebud mouth and wide round eyes of mossy green. The riot of black curls around her face fell halfway down her back, a crown of dried vines and flowers atop her head. Chiori wasn’t sure if it was rude or not, but she couldn’t stop gawking.
“You’re… What?” she couldn’t finish a coherent thought. The girl wasn’t sure what she was looking at.
“A dryad, little Half-Breed,” the woman said in a clipped voice. Chiori let the tip of her stick rest on the ground. What was it about her that told everyone she met her blood status? “My name is Creek.”
“Lord Makkai said there was a dryad nearby,” Chiori said more to herself than to the woman. The close, Earthy taste of this air felt so familiar, comforting.