by Travis Kerr
His ability grew exponentially during that time. He knew that there were still aspects of his power he hadn't unlocked yet, like his ability to draw in magical attacks, as he had during the fight with Sloan and his soldiers, but he had no way of testing or experimenting with that part of it. He would need to have someone try to use magic against him for that, and Raine didn't have any magic at all.
He did learn other things about it during that time that he hadn't known. He no longer needed to recite his catalyst to use his magic, for instance. Now he simply brought the feeling his magic gave him to mind, and it would call it forth instantly.
He also learned more control. Now when he called his magic it didn't create the strong wind that it had originally, at least not if he didn't want it to. Raine watched him through it all, only commenting rarely, when she thought it was necessary.
Drom began to worry about what might have been happening with their friend. Raiste had said he would be gone for at least a month, possibly even longer, but knowing that he wasn't even due back yet didn't do anything to alleviate Drom's fears. He had grown quite fond of the assassin during the time they had known each other, and wouldn't want anything to happen to him.
The weather had stayed unusually warm during that time, though Drom was certain that winter must be well underway by then. Raine assured him that the weather was nothing unusual. Drom had spent all of his previous winters at his parents farm, much farther to the north, she reminded him. It wouldn't get nearly as cold here as he was used to.
If they had gone north instead of south they could have seen snow for the rest of the winter, which was rare at his parent’s home. Even further to the north, the snow never melted at all, he recalled from his mother's teachings.
“You should be happy with the temperate weather we’re enjoying,” she told him often.
He didn't bother to tell her that he wasn't really complaining. He had just been making an observation. So far he had been thoroughly enjoying his time there.
He had become much closer friends with Raine during that time as well. The two of them spent the majority of their time together. They practiced together, a necessity when Drom used his magic during practices, they fished together, and at the end of the night they relaxed together in the living room. They even cooked their meals together, though they ate entirely different things.
He had finished the fiction novel he had been reading in the evenings during their second week there. Instead of choosing another, he had started reading things that gave him information. He found quickly that Raiste had not been joking when he said that those books in his library contained information on nearly everything he might ever need to know. He learned things about anatomy, combat tactics, and of course magic theory and practice, something which Raiste had dozens of texts on. Often Drom and Raine would sit and talk about those things he read late into the night, considering ways to use that information to hone Drom's growing skills into something even greater.
There were also books on ancient technology, about the machines they used, how to build and maintain them, and how they worked. Drom barely understood them at all. He wondered, often, how Raiste had obtained them, and whether or not he had even tried to use that information.
I’ll never have any use for them, he thought. Machines like these had nearly destroyed the world. Sometimes things that were lost really should stay that way.
After the first week or two of each others constant, sole companionship, Drom began to notice a subtle change in the way that Raine acted toward him. She had never been cruel or rude to him, in fact she had always been quite friendly, but she had always kept herself slightly distant. She had seemed to regard him him as an acquaintance, even after he already thought of her as a friend. It was the difference between how she treated Raiste and how she treated him.
Now she treated him in much the same way she had treated Raiste, bantering with him and teasing him in ways she hadn't done before. It was only a small change, one that anyone else looking on might not even notice, but Drom certainly noticed it. He looked at it as a sign that she was finally starting to consider him a real friend, instead of just a pleasant traveling companion.
It was why he noticed right away when her mood changed one morning. He had woke no differently than any other morning. The weather seemed fine, not too hot or too cold, without a hint of rain. It appeared as if it was starting off to be a rather good day. He came down the stairs into the kitchen, to find Raine inside in a terribly foul-tempered mood.
She was clearly looking for something, though Drom really had no idea what it might have been. Pots and pans were thrown about the room. The kitchen counter that sat in the middle of the floor had been pushed aside, and she was currently going through the cupboards, cursing grumpily as she went. She shot him a sour look when he entered the room, then pointedly turned away and went back to what she was doing.
“Good morning,” he ventured.
“I don't see what's all that good about it,” she returned harshly. He decided to ignore the comment.
“What is it you're looking for?” he asked instead. He had seen her in bad moods before, so wasn't overly concerned. Usually it was only when she was hungry, or when Raiste did something to annoy her, but everyone is entitled to having a bad day now and again. If he could do something to help her disposition, he would.
“I can't find the ground lemon peel I bought when we were in Port Tam. I was going to use it tonight to spice my dinner.”
Drom looked around the room and noticed that, though she had gone through nearly half of the cupboards in the room like a tornado, the cupboard that held their spices was not open.
Strange, he thought. That’s the first place I would have looked.
He opened the door and looked inside.
The jars had been moved around as if someone had rummaged through them, but otherwise it seemed fine. She must have looked there first, as he would expect, and had only gotten upset after she failed to find it. He carefully pushed jars aside, searching it a second time, just in case. Finally he found it, stuffed in the far back corner, easy enough to miss if the searcher wasn't careful.
“Here it is,” he said, handing her the small jar. “It was in the back corner. You must have missed it.”
“Don't blame me,” she growled. “I wasn't the one who put it there.”
Drom refrained from mentioning that she was the only one that ever used the spice. It was usually used to spice her fish, and he never ate meat. It must have just been shuffled to the back by accident. Such things happen all the time. He might have done it when putting the spices back that he used in his meals, but it was just as likely that she had. He didn't recall her using it for quite a while.
“Maybe we can skip practice for today, or at least postpone it until later, and just go fishing for right now,” he suggested. His friend always seemed to be in a better mood when fishing, and he wanted more than anything to bring her out of whatever funk she was in. It could be a long day for the both of them if her mood didn't improve.
We can clean the kitchen later, he decided. She hasn't made a mess of anything that can't wait for a few hours.
“Whatever,” she answered crossly.
The two of them left the destruction of the kitchen behind, heading straight out to the dock. She handed him the tackle she had lent him, pulling out her own a moment later. In minutes they had their lines baited and in the water.
Drom had gotten good enough at it that it didn't take him any time at all to catch bait anymore. Raine had always been that good at it. She had fished this way since childhood, and it came as second nature to her now.
At first, Raine still seemed just as ill-tempered as she had been in the kitchen, but gradually she relaxed somewhat. She no longer seemed angry like she had before at least, but she still seemed off. She looked fidgety, as if she had an itch that she couldn't reach to scratch. Drom refrained from saying anything to her about it. He had no desire to accidentally anger
her, and put her back in the mood she had been in before.
“Could you scratch my back for me?” she asked him suddenly. She had hardly said a word to him since they had arrived at the dock, and such a request had been the last thing he had expected from her.
“Sure,” he replied, moving closer to her and scratching her back between her shoulder blades where she indicated. If it would help keep her in a better mood, he didn't mind such a small request. She had never asked him to do anything like that before, but at least she didn't seem angry anymore.
“Oh, thank you,” she purred, involuntarily arching in his direction. “That feels good.”
This seemed to be a complete flip in her mood, Drom thought, wondering what could have caused such a change.
Surely scratching her back for her wasn't helping her that much.
A slight breeze stirred the tufts of hair at the top of her ears, bringing with it a strange scent Drom didn't recall ever smelling before; a strange, sickly sweet combination of lavender and peaches.
He had no idea where the scent could have come from. He didn't recall either of those plants growing anywhere nearby, at least not close enough to smell them. Still, there were plants this far south that he wasn't very familiar with. It could just be something that smelled that way in the winter, when the weather changed.
Whatever it is, it’s a very intoxicating smell.
Drom barely noticed when his float went under, pulling back to set the hook only at the last second. He brought the fish in absently, not really as interested in the fishing as he thought he would have been.
“I didn't tell you to stop,” Raine whispered in his ear, a peculiar huskiness coating her voice that Drom didn't recall ever hearing before. He felt her rub against him slightly, the unusual and unexpected contact sending a jolt through him.
He brought the fish in quickly, without any of the usual joy he felt when he caught something. His head felt fuzzy, like he had drank too much ale. A small part of him knew that something wasn't right about that.
We don't have any ale at the Hut, nor any other intoxicating beverage. I certainly didn't drink anything this morning.
Unfortunately, that understanding never filtered into his conscious mind. His subconscious mind continued to scream at him, but he couldn’t hear it.
“What should I do with the fish?” he slurred.
“Just toss it back into the water,” she breathed. He knew it was a strange request, but for some reason it just didn't seem to matter to him at that moment. He did as he was told, removing the hook and releasing the fish.
“Could you scratch my back some more?” she asked in a meowing voice.
“Sure,” he replied.
It feels as if I’m floating, which doesn't make much sense. I can see my feet are clearly on the ground.
The question of what was making him feel that way no longer entered his mind at all.
“That feels so good.” she arched into him as he scratched her, rubbing hard up against him. “Scratch a little lower please.”
He did as requested, causing her to push into him further, rubbing up against him. It felt good to him as well, though he didn't know why. It didn't matter. He was no longer thinking about anything. In the water, Raine's float disappeared beneath the surface. Neither of them noticed.
When Raine twisted in his arms to kiss him passionately on the mouth, he never considered it, kissing her back with equal intensity. She threw herself against him, and he welcomed the embrace, holding her roughly against him. She pushed him back, off of the bench they sat on to the ground behind the dock, landing on top of him heavily. His mind was so entranced, he never felt the bruise he received. They were not thinking any longer, neither one of them, caught in the feeling of the moment.
Chapter Fifteen
Drom woke sometime the next day in a bed. He didn't remember getting into one, or even coming back inside for that matter. There was a weight on top of him. Opening his eyes, he realized two things simultaneously. The first was that he was not in his own room, or his own bed at all, and the second was that the weight he felt on top of him was Raine. The feral woman was draped across him, more of her body on him than on the bed, and that neither of them had clothing on.
What’s going on here?
Bits and pieces of the day before flashed through his mind.
So I didn’t dreamed it after all. It really happened.
The only question left was how and why it had.
He found Raine attractive enough, that was not an issue. It was that he considered her a friend, not anything else. He had never considered doing any of the things with her that they had obviously done, nor would he have believed that she had any such interest.
The last clear thought he had was of the two of them fishing. She had asked him to scratch an itch that she couldn't reach, innocent enough, he would have thought. He remembered little else after.
He caught a whiff of a strange scent, a mixture of lavender and peaches.
I remember smelling that too, he recalled, though it had been much stronger then.
The smell was pleasant, strange but yet somehow sweet at the same time. He found he wanted to find that scent, an almost uncontrollable need to locate that smell, but had no idea what it was or why he felt so compelled to track it down. After several moments of mental searching, he realized that the smell was coming from Raine.
She stirred on top of him, rolling slightly to the side. He had not moved so much as a muscle, not wanting to wake her, but it seemed that she had slept long enough. She looked down at him, dawning slowly coming to her eyes.
“I'm sorry,” she said at once, looking away from him.
Sorry? What!?
“What do you have to be sorry about? Sure it was unexpected, and maybe just a little weird because of it, but that's not anything to be sorry about. I was involved just as much as you, at least I think. Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't really remember as much about it all as I would like to.”
“You don't really know what happened, do you?”
“I've got a pretty good idea,” he replied. “I can't think of anything else we might have done that could have left us in this position when we woke up. It's rather self-explanatory.”
“Not that. I mean, that's obvious. You didn't have a choice though. Not really.”
“I only remember bits and pieces, but I think I would remember trying to push you away. I'm sure that I didn't.”
“Yes, but that wasn't your choice either,” she answered in dismay. “I think I've gone into heat.”
“What do you mean?” he asked. He vaguely recalled Raiste saying something about her being ill-tempered when she went into heat, which would certainly explain her demeanor that morning.
Or was it the morning before?
He had not known at the time what Raiste had meant by that, and had not thought it important enough to ask.
Guess I should have asked him about it.
“Ferals have a breeding cycle, that makes them extremely, well, interested in the opposite sex,” she explained. “When we do, our bodies put out a pheromone that affects males around us. It seems to work on most males actually. It's like a drug, that makes you malleable and willing. That must be what was affecting you yesterday. That's why you don't remember much. So you see, you really didn't have a choice, and I'm sorry for that.”
She seemed quite distraught. He wished she wouldn't be. Even if he didn't have much choice in the matter, it was not as if it was something that he hadn't enjoyed.
Or at least I’m pretty sure I enjoyed it anyway.
“It sounds as if you didn't have much choice in the matter either,” he observed. “If this heat affects you like you said, you didn't have any more control than I did.” A sudden thought occurred to him. She had said that it affects any males that are around her when it happens.
Any males around her?
“Wait, you said it affects all males. Have you and Raiste....?”
“No!” she interrupted before he could finish his question. “Somehow he's not affected by it, which I'm thankful for. I wouldn't want to be with him this way.”
“Sorry if you didn't want me either,” Drom fumbled.
Of course she wouldn't have wanted an ugly beast like me this way, but she hadn't been given a choice. Her body took that choice away from her.
He truly felt sorry for her. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to have such a choice taken away from you on a regular basis. He didn't know how old she was exactly; it wasn't polite to ask a woman such a question, but he knew that she was at least a decade or so older than he was, perhaps more. Surely there had been other times in her life that this had happened to her before now, probably with men far worse for her than he was.
Maybe not as ugly, but for something like this, looks aren’t everything.
“Don't say that,” she scolded. “There's nothing wrong with you at all.”
Nothing wrong with me? What, has she gone blind too?
“You don’t have to lie, Raine. I know how I look. You’re a beautiful woman. If I wasn’t the only man here, I’m sure you would have preferred someone else. The only reason I’m in this bed with you now is because there wasn’t any other man around.”
“You need to stop doing that. You’re not nearly as bad looking as you seem to think, and you’re a kind, sweet guy, which counts for a lot. I’ve certainly found myself in this situation with much worse men than you. If I had to wake up in a bed with someone that I didn’t plan on, I’m kind of glad that it was you, really.”
“So you mean you might have slept with me, even if you hadn’t gone into heat?”
“I'm not saying that, but I’m not saying it wouldn’t have happened either. I hadn't really given it any thought. I just wish we had both had a choice in the matter. Look, you should probably get going. It's nothing against you, I just don't know if you really want to be here right now.”
