Wilderness Untamed

by Butler, J. M.

  11

  Fireside Breakfast

  Amelia reached the shore almost as soon as Naatos, mostly because he lingered. It was a short walk up the hill along a path of flattened grass most likely made recently by Naatos and his brothers. He did not attempt to touch her though he did walk near her. That faint smile playing on his handsome features was so infuriating that she wanted to push him or kiss him.

  QueQoa waited for them at the top of the hill instead of AaQar. He beamed at her. "You are walking better. When you're back to full strength, I'll teach you how to fight so that you can do better against Vawtrians and the like." As she reached the top of the hill, he put his thick arm around her shoulders in a brotherly fashion and squeezed her. "You look like you're feeling much better."

  She glanced up at him, setting her hand on her bandaged waist. "Really? You're going to teach me how to defeat Vawtrians?" She glanced back at Naatos, wondering whether he would protest.

  Naatos shrugged one shoulder. His clothing and hair had dried completely, as had her own. Somehow his hair still managed to appear both wild and clean at once. It probably wouldn't even tangle if she ran her fingers through it. "Why would I mind?" His voice was a pleasant baritone rumble. "You won't ever be good enough to defeat me in hand-to-hand combat, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't improve as far as you can."

  She narrowed her eyes at him. Maybe she'd just have to tangle his hair and then pull.

  "What?" He laughed, stopping short on the hill's flattened top. "You think you could?"

  "I might surprise you?"

  "Doubtful."

  "I stopped you in the temple."

  QueQoa stepped back, moving down toward the camp.

  Naatos set his arms akimbo, that wretched smile playing on his features once more. "Not permanently. And you had a magical formula from the Machat, which hardly makes it a fair fight."

  "You can turn into any creature you want and heal. But magic powder for me makes it unfair?"

  He dipped his head forward, chuckling. "All right. Unfair is not the best word choice. But regardless, it isn't going to help you again. I've been working on adaptations. And I am very close to being immune to lightning."

  Of course he was. She stepped back. "I'll find something else." She started down the hill. A camp had indeed been set up. Two large firepits, stocked and lit, were in the center of the camp. A massive boulder stood beneath one of the outermost branches of a spiky tree, forming a barrier to the ravine. Four trenches had been cut on the far side of the northernmost fire, and leather straps had been fastened in the earth. Beneath the large oak-like tree with spikey branches was a pile of large leather packs. Blankets were folded at the foot of each of the trenches, and a few stone vessels, sturdy and large, were between the fires. A waterfall poured out of the rockface. Pieces of wood had been fastened beneath it that could then be pushed into the waterfall's frothy-white stream to allow for a more controlled release of water. A broad stone basin had been placed just beneath that with a short chute that sent excess water jetting back out into the gorge beyond. A number of stone vessels had been situated near the fire and the basin.

  They'd been busy.

  She'd camped dozens of times in her life, but it had never been like this… she didn't even know what the phrase for it was aside from impressively prepared. A large pot that she didn't even understand how they had managed to pack bubbled over the fire, smelling of boiled meat and rather grey. Meat roasted over the other fire, and AaQar was currently removing chunks from the spit and putting them on leaves while WroOth sampled the soup. Based on his frown and subsequent stirring, she doubted that the soup had met his standard. QueQoa was already halfway back, and AaQar held out a leaf plate with meat, his hand holding up the base so that it didn't collapse.

  "Any time you want a rematch, veskaro," Naatos said. "But be clear on your expectations. Otherwise, I may just have to throw you down or put you up against a tree—"

  She sidestepped him. What had gotten into him? He'd never exactly lacked confidence before, but now it was as if someone had given him revitalized purpose and a clear roadmap. "I'm not going to jump you, Naatos, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't jump me. It seems like kuvaste would have a very different meaning between people like us."

  He laughed. "Oh, it does. Forgive my subtlety. I thought I was clear on that point. The vestoving after the fight though is unlike anything else. Unless that was a lie, and I doubt it is."

  "It isn't," WroOth announced from his position by the fire. "But you two are a long way from that. I don't think you could make it past the fighting for now."

  Amelia circled the fire, taking the opposite route from Naatos. Her cheeks and chest still burned with a heat that wasn't entirely unpleasant.

  AaQar offered her a leaf with a few slices of seared and seasoned meat, hot from the fire. "You should eat," he said.

  "Thank you." When she noticed that Naatos was coming toward her, she moved to AaQar's other side. She peered around him at Naatos.

  "Are you using me as a shield, little sister?" AaQar gave her a curious look, still holding the leaf.

  "Yes. Do you mind?"

  "Not if you eat." He indicated the food he'd prepared.

  She accepted the leaf, her hand dipping due to the weight. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until she smelled the savory scent. That was something at least.

  AaQar directed his gaze to Naatos as he picked up another leaf. "Naatos."

  Naatos arched his eyebrow. "Did I ever prevent you from spending time with Rasha?"

  Amelia moved over to the log across from the fire to sit on the end. WroOth scooted in beside her. "Of course not," he said. "But we were more worried about Rasha dragging him off by his boots. You two wouldn't have gotten along. This is besred, dear heart. It's tough but nutritious."

  "Why wouldn't we have gotten along?" she asked.

  "Because she hated everyone initially. Except AaQar. And then it turned out—"

  "Yes, that's enough of that discussion point," AaQar responded testily. "And she would not have dragged me off. If I had not wanted to go, I would not have. Whenever she wanted to, I wanted to."

  "Yes, thank whatever mercy there is we didn't have to have that discussion," WroOth responded. "I still don't think we could have stopped her if she had chosen the mantis route."

  Amelia frowned, holding the leaf like a taco shell. The meat was still too hot to eat. "Female mantises rip off the male's head before intercourse."

  "That you know." Naatos sat on the log beside hers.

  QueQoa dropped into the spot beside him. When Naatos cast a perturbed look in his direction, QueQoa clapped a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "I know you don't want to sit alone."

  Naatos narrowed his eyes at him. "I am not alone. My wife is—"

  QueQoa wrapped his arms around him and hugged him close, patting the top of his head. "You will never be alone. You will always have us."

  "I will kuvaste you if you don't allow me to eat," Naatos responded, pushing away. "Just know that on the day you find your mate, I will be there to repay you for everything."

  "Repayment is hardly necessary." QueQoa leaned forward to stir the coals, grinning. He then looked at Amelia. "In case you were concerned, you don't have to rip his head off when you finish vestoving. Vawtrians do not vestov in that fashion. At least not traditionally. If Rasha were actually interested in such things—"

  "She wasn't," AaQar said dryly. He served up a portion for himself and sat on the log with WroOth and Amelia.

  QueQoa gave a conciliatory nod. "Well, that is good, because I would presume that would be most uncomfortable. I would not wish for my veskaro to pursue such a course."

  "Why are we talking about this?" Naatos rested his elbows on his knees as he regarded QueQoa with amused annoyance.

  "I do not want my sister to have mistaken information regarding vestoving options. She grew up among Awdawms. They sometimes find it embarrassing or humiliating to even speak of such
things. And she does not seem comfortable with the topic."

  "You giving advice on this topic is fascinating," WroOth said, leaning forward. "What other insights do you have and where are they from, given you have no experience in this matter?"

  Naatos lifted his hand. "If my veskaro requires instruction, I will provide it."

  "No," Amelia said, shaking her head. She straightened her shoulders. "I don't need any instruction on anything right now. If I do, I'll ask. And if I take off Naatos's head, I promise, it's not because I thought that was how Vawtrians have sex."

  "Of course not," AaQar said. He pointed to the food still in her hand. "Eat. We're leaving shortly. And you should change. Your clothing will not hold up well if there is an attack."

  She tugged at her ragged sleeve. Her knee was poking through one of the long tears in the skirt. "I didn't have a chance to pack, I'm afraid. And most of the space in my satchel was used up with books."

  "I took care of that." Naatos tore off a piece of the meat and then indicated one of the packs beneath the oak-like tree. "The bag with the green chimera on it. You should have everything you need. Within reason. I did not pack you invincibility or the ability to turn back time or be reasonable."

  "I didn't expect you to. Not after you destroyed those orbs that would have healed me from any malady or disease or bring me back from death." She arched her eyebrow at him, making sure that the blow landed.

  He did wince. Slightly. His posture tensed too, but he did not look at her. She turned to AaQar. "Where are we going anyway?"

  "Nowhere important," WroOth said. "Hopefully nowhere at all. Certainly not Tri Ce." He had tightened so much and so fast that it physically hurt. She frowned a little. It was important to him. So important it was fracturing out of him.

  She settled back on the log, working to process this.

  No.

  It wasn't all WroOth.

  She closed her eyes. Things were changing. Fast. If she focused, she could almost see those fragments. She turned her wrist elmis down and away, facing toward herself rather than him or AaQar. Perhaps it was simply a side effect of the imprinting, combined with her mindreading improving. Somehow.

  Maybe the suphrite had something to do with it. Or maybe the venom. Or just the fact that she had had her elmis uncovered for longer than ever before. Or perhaps something else.

  She wanted to see what would happen if she smoothed down the fractures, but she kept her hands to herself.

  "What is Tri Ce?" she asked instead. A city—rapid images flashed through her mind's eye, too fast for her to comprehend them—but enough to leave an impression: bustling, cunning, uneven, deep, salty.

  "The capitol of the province of Svenao," AaQar said. "One of the largest Vawtrian cities on Ecekom."

  That pang of worry returned. Except this time it splintered out from all of them, fracturing in the air. They all felt it. Some denied it, some suspected it more. For a moment, she felt as if she could take hold of those fragments of thought and trace each back to its owner. Then it slid back, becoming a solid mass once more without fractures or splinters.

  She forced herself to eat the meat. Strength was essential in a place like this, but she barely tasted it, only recognizing that it was tough and hot. A little gamy perhaps.

  After two mouthfuls, she turned to AaQar. "I don't suppose you know whether Matthu survived? Naatos said that the bullet was a clean hit through, but he wasn't able to reach him. Did you maybe see something or hear about what happened to him? Any of you?"

  An uncomfortable look passed between the brothers. AaQar chose his words with care, his brow furrowed. "You believe in Elonumato and his goodness. So you will have to trust that he saw to your friend's needs. But I did not see what became of him."

  She let her gaze drop back to the nearest fire. She did pray that Elonumato spared and healed Matthu. But she knew all too well that prayers were not always answered with yeses, and even those who served Elonumato were not guaranteed survival in such situations. "I just never thought Vorec would harm another Ayamin. Especially not one he was supposed to protect. Someone like Matthu."

  WroOth nodded. "You should be proud of that one though. Your Ignorant Guard. Matthu." He dipped his head as if recognizing that the proper name was more important than the nickname. "He is barely more than an Awdawm child, but he is as brave as a Vawtrian. Perhaps braver. It's easier for us to take a blade or a bullet or beam because we know that, though it will hurt, the hurt will heal."

  "And what is important," AaQar said, "is that Vorec will no longer cause you pain."

  WroOth patted her hand. "Except maybe in memory."

  She frowned and grabbed hold of his hand. A tangy trail of knowledge brushed against her mind, swift but strong. She couldn't hold it, but its subject became clear. "What happened to Vorec? He's dead."

  WroOth's eyes widened. He tried to tug his hand back as he turned his gaze toward Naatos. "Your wife."

  Naatos simply shrugged, but he watched with interest.

  She kept her grip on his hand fast. "Why is it so much clearer now? What happened to Vorec? You killed him?" Flashes of knowledge shot into her mind, snapping into place as the tendrils strengthened. "You killed him fast." The connection ended as abruptly as it started.

  WroOth plucked her hand from his wrist. "Your mindreading impacts me at inconvenient times, little sister. It isn't polite to read people's minds without their permission."

  "It isn't polite to pretend to be someone's friend when you're planning on invading their country." She shook her head, still deeply aware of the tang from those thoughts. "So you killed Vorec?"

  "I did." WroOth straightened his shoulders. "I broke his neck."

  Tension spread across the little camp. It moved like a cloud, engulfing them all. They were waiting for her reaction, staring. "Oh." She dropped her gaze to the nearest fire, her brow tweaking.

  "Are you angry?" WroOth studied her, his expression guarded. The creases on his forehead, like AaQar's, formed three slight-dipped lines.

  She continued to stare into the flames, frowning. "I don't know that there was any other way. At least I can't think of one."

  There was a flat finality in this knowledge. Her own feelings remained convoluted. Sorrow at the loss of what he could have been. Relief to not deal with him any longer. An odd deadness that did not allow much feeling at all and in which she could take refuge if needed.

  "Not easily," AaQar conceded. "Even Awdawms like Vorec can be incredibly difficult to manage when they choose to be. And that one demonstrated his intense desire to do you harm on more than one occasion. Survival in the wilderness is challenging but not impossible."

  She nodded, glancing at WroOth. "I understand. And I'm not angry."

  The tension evaporated. WroOth grinned. He tousled her hair and then shoved her playfully, almost knocking her off the log. "Don't make it a habit of reading my mind."

  Amelia stretched out her hand. "It just happened." She stared at her wrist elmis, the cluster of black dots. They were slightly larger and more defined than the ones on her feet and forehead but smaller than the ones on the small of her back and the backs of her knees. "I wasn't even trying that time. Everything seems to be changing. It comes in spurts."

  "You are changing." Naatos finished the meat on the leaf and rose to retrieve another. "Neyeb have varying degrees of ability, including passive gain which is picking up random thoughts and knowledge. Some people are more susceptible to it. You may not always realize it. Just bear in mind that you'll need to be cautious about what you think you know. It could be perceptions or incorrect conclusions. Not everything drawn from another's mind is truth. The suphrite may have reversed some of the damage from your prolonged bindings."

  AaQar cast an annoyed glance in his direction.

  Naatos refused to acknowledge this. He wiped his hands clean on his black trousers and then returned to his seat on the log. "You'll have to be careful to not exhaust yourself. You've been growing in leaps and
bounds since Polfradon."

  That was true. She finished the last bit of meat. It made sense. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that this was the reason for the eight weeks. The spectral woman had been clear that her union with Naatos would destroy her, override her, consume her. Yet it did not seem to be guaranteed. Leonas had not warned her against it either, but he had only been speaking of the relationship in general. Perhaps he had simply assumed it would not be before the eight weeks were finished since the Machat said it was necessary as well?

  Somehow even getting through another week—

  A small voice in her head whispered, because of him or because of you?

  She closed her eyes.

  It had been so much clearer just last week. Uncle Joe had always told her that life could change with a phone call. Yet she doubted that these sorts of changes had been what he had in mind when he told her that.

  Something brushed across the top of her head. Naatos's presence pressed against her even more than the hand that now rested on her shoulder or his lips against her crown. "These are yours," he said. He dropped one of the bags in front of her. "If you're done eating, you should change. There may be some other items in the other bags, but this has the bulk of them."

  Amelia started. She pulled away and looked around the camp. The nearest safe place appeared to be the spike-branched oak tree. "If I change behind that tree, is something unspeakable going to happen to me?"

  Naatos opened his mouth to speak, but WroOth cut him off. "We'll keep Naatos here, dear heart. There is nothing to worry about. Go get into something that isn't about to fall apart."

  "You are less than helpful." Naatos glowered at his brother.

  "I try." WroOth grinned.

  Oddly she did trust that Naatos wouldn't come too close. Even if his brothers weren't there.

  She picked up the bag and moved beyond the tree, choosing a spot that was shrouded with a large bush and another wax-leafed plant, then crouched down to look through the bag. Naatos had indeed packed quite a number of necessities for her. He'd done surprisingly well for a man. Though… she paused.