Half-Breed (Taming the Elements Book 1)

by Hickory Mack

  “Makkai?”

  “It’s nothing too important, but we need to get this over with quickly,” he said. “I found what we’re looking for, it’s a little further.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Chiori, I want to clear something up with you from earlier. Two somethings, actually,” Makkai said, taking the lead, his attention split between Chiori and the locations of the dryad, the goblin and the hunters.

  “What is it?” she said, skipping forward and looping her arm through his.

  “I didn’t use your title, or your name. It wasn’t to slight you, it was for your protection. Once that knowledge is out, it’s going to cause some chaos. Our neighboring Lords are going to demand an introduction. It would be disrespectful to my household since they haven’t been properly introduced yet, either,” Makkai said, altering their direction.

  “I noticed, but I wasn’t upset. I thought you must have your reasons, whatever they were,” Chiori said. Makkai glanced down at her and she smiled up at him. She was such a good-natured little thing, but maybe too much. He didn’t want her striving to please him all the time.

  “That’s a reasonable response, thank you,” He said and she snickered.

  “Did you think I’d be angry?” she asked, amused.

  “I wasn’t sure what to expect, honestly. An older woman would have been indignant. I don’t have any experience trying to keep a twelve-year-old happy. From the stories out there, it can be quite the endeavor,” He said and she stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

  “You won’t have to worry about it much longer,” she said.

  “Ah, yes, the upcoming birthday. After which we encounter the horror of another angsty, hormone-driven teenager in the house.” His eyes widened in mock fear.

  “Hmph.” Chiori glared at him. “What’s the second thing?”

  “The dryad was partially correct. It’s a common rumor that I’m Earth Bound. A perfect circle, any point fifty miles from the center, that is the limits of my binding. There is a one mile no-man’s land between my territory and the surrounding Lords. They're afraid of accidentally crossing my borders,” he said, “but the regular demons and fae don’t know that. They think that extra mile is mine. I let them continue thinking that.”

  Chiori said nothing, but she was confused.

  “Within those fifty miles I have access to about three fourths of what my magic was when I was bound. If I get close to that boundary there’s a driving urge to turn around and go back, a pulling. If I go beyond that line, my power is castigated. At fifty-one miles away I have access to half of my magic. At fifty-one and one-half, I have access to one quarter of my magic. By fifty-two miles I am powerless,” he confided.

  “Tallow?” Chiori asked, hugging his arm and scanning their surroundings in sickening understanding.

  “The Matriarch Tree is mile forty-two,” Makkai said. “The barrier of Tallow is nine and a half from there. Which is why they believe the nest to be partly within my borders.”

  Chiori pulled him to a stop, her face a mask of panic.

  “How far have we walked?” she demanded.

  “About a mile and a half,” he answered.

  “We've passed fifty-two,” she said, her face pale. “What happens if-”

  “I didn’t tell you this to frighten you, I wanted you to understand, I have almost no magic left at this point. I’m still physically strong, it doesn’t take that away. You’re safe, nothing around here can hurt you,” Makkai said.

  “Do you think I care about that?” Chiori asked, taking him aback. “Does it hurt at all? Are you okay?”

  “You’re worried about me?” he said in disbelief.

  “Of course I am,” Chiori kicked a stick. Makkai looked briefly skyward and shook his head, amused.

  “Ye of little faith,” he said, bending down and kissing the top of her head, further amused by how immediately her face reddened. “I told you this because I want to be honest with you, and so you’d know I didn’t leave the nest alone because I didn’t care. If anyone had come to me, I would have chased them out.”

  “It is… Uncomfortable, coming out here. I was born with power, to be without it, no matter how temporary is unsettling. It’s something I generally avoid. I haven’t tested the boundary in decades.”

  “You came because I made you,” Chiori frowned. “I’m sorry. Let’s go back.”

  “We came because it was important to you, and that makes it important to me,” Makkai corrected her. “What’s a little discomfort for a short time? Come on,” he tugged her into walking again. “We’re not far away. Chiori, I think Fog is your monster.”

  “Truly?” Chiori asked.

  “She and a goblin are the only things here currently strong enough to pick people off,” he answered. “I’m surprised they’ve been allowed to live.”

  They walked a while longer, Chiori kept looking back at him anxiously but after a few minutes she started to hum.

  His ears flicked back and held. It was the tune he’d played on his flute, an old human song, written decades before the wars. It had fallen out of human memory two centuries ago, but it stuck with him. She’d memorized it, though he’d only played it for her the one time. Her voice was untrained but sweet. He’d teach her the lyrics, later, he wanted to hear more.

  The tree was on the move. She wasn’t coming toward them but running a line that would intercept theirs if they kept moving forward. Unfortunately the dryad wasn’t the only creature whose attention they’d grabbed.

  Goblins were usually nocturnal. This one stayed active later into the morning than most, it was very much awake and coming in fast. Faster than the dryad. Makkai turned, scooped up Chiori and leapt into the trees, altering their course to avoid it.

  Chiori clung to his shoulder, her breath warm on his neck. She didn’t complain or question him or scream at the drops. She trusted him to keep her safe, though every step took him further from his territories and he could feel the weakness that would normally have had him on the ground by now settling in.

  The fae stopped where she was and Makkai sent up a silent curse to the gods. If she’d gone into a tree they’d never find her. But, no. She’d altered her trajectory to intercept them again. Makkai sped up. If they could make it to the tree quickly enough they’d have a small chance of convincing her to come with them before trouble showed up.

  “Almost there,” he said.

  He came skidding to a stop, this was the place. It was tight, the trees and bushes were close here, not optimal conditions for a fight, if that’s what was going to happen. Makkai set Chiori down but held her tucked in close, one of his tails wrapping itself around her waist, his body between her and the coming beastie. The tree appeared before them, bright eyed and alert, looking not at them, but beyond Makkai’s shoulder.

  She was similar to the other, but instead of brown her skin was the gray of an Oak. She was strong, hard and quick. Like Creek she was nude, but splotches of lichen and moss covered her modesty, torso, and upper legs. Her hair fell straight, dark green with grey streaks through it. Her eyes landed on Chiori and she knew, this was the creature she’d felt that night she’d run to Makkai.

  She held out the bracelet.

  “A-are you Fog?” she asked timidly. The woman’s mouth fell open, looking from the bracelet, to Chiori, to Lord Makkai. Her eyes narrowed on the fox.

  “You aren’t human. You're so powerless I thought you were a human and a witch,” the dryad’s face and body relaxed. “You don’t need my protection, you can take care of yourself.”

  “We came to free you. We can get you back through the barrier,” Chiori said to the dryad’s back, she was already leaving. “They’re going to take all these trees down, you’ll have nowhere else to hide.”

  “Free me? There were five of my kind here when the witches trapped us. One by one, four of them were captured by the hunters. The last was handed to them by the creature on its way now. It is my duty to avenge them. Fog was soft, k
ind and sweet. She wanted to try reasoning with them, and approached one of them in bright daylight, revealing what she was. She was the first to die,” the dryad answered over her shoulder.

  Chiori gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. Lord Makkai squeezed her shoulder.

  “We didn’t come for nothing,” he said. “Her story is off.” She turned, glowering at him. It had been a long time since another of the people had disrespected him so openly. Dryads. Why was it always dryads? He didn’t let her speak first, he had no interest in false indignation and further lies.

  “You recognized the pendant, Tree. Creek recognized Fog’s scent on my witch here. There are no other dryad’s in this nest, so, either you’ve got her hidden somewhere, or you’re her,” Makkai said.

  “Creek. Figures she’d still be alive. Look, my name is Chasm, okay? This is a case of mistaken identity and it’s really none of your business. You don’t know what you’re talking about, Foxy. He’s here, you’d better prepare yourselves. Though if I were you, I’d turn around and go back home,” she said and he growled. He didn’t need magic to deal with this one.

  A crash through the trees, and he was there. Chiori barely reacted for the count of three full seconds, her only movement was the widening horror in her eyes as she processed what she was seeing.

  He was bone achingly emaciated, his face no more than dry, greenish gray skin stretched over a skeleton, his eyes bulged, his mouth open in a sharp-toothed sneer. His hair had fallen out and his long ears stuck out dramatically, his long bony fingers wrapped around the trunk of a young sapling, claws digging into the bark. The goblin shrieked, his eyes locking on Chiori, a thick line of drool dangled from one corner of his mouth.

  This creature was beyond reasoning. He’d been starved into madness. That made him a lot more dangerous than Makkai had expected. This thing was desperate, and desperate meant stupid. It didn’t even register Makkai’s presence, ignoring Chasm entirely. He lunged at Chiori, moving fast.

  Makkai bolted forward, his claws closing in on the creature’s throat, but it dodged at the last second, again focused on the girl, the easiest target. Or so it thought. Makkai grunted and whirled, grabbing the creature by the ankle and dragging it back. It started up an unearthly wailing that made Chiori’s skin crawl. She crossed her arms protectively across her chest and stepped back into the trees, away from the goblin and the dryad, but also Makkai.

  “You’ve been starving this thing,” Makkai growled, wrestling him to the ground. Chasm frowned, unimpressed.

  “We all had to make sacrifices to survive,” she said defensively. Makkai slammed the creature to the ground, his ears pinned flat back, teeth bared in a snarl. The goblin bit him and his growl deepened. He punched it in the face. It didn’t take any serious damage, but it did release its grip on his arm.

  Chiori saw the blood welling up out of each distinct tooth mark. Heat built under her skin. She saw the blood pool together and drip into the brush. Her nerves were on fire, she could feel every millimeter of her skin. The magic came unbidden.

  Makkai glared at Chasm.

  “Your sacrifices seem to have had no effect on you. In fact, you look stronger and healthier than your companion on the other side,” he grunted, punching his struggling captive again.

  “I don’t have to answer to the likes of you,” she bit out. “Why are you taking so much time with him? You aren’t healing, why aren’t you using your magic, what’s wrong with you?”

  Chiori hit her knees, her hands pressed to her heart. The world dropped out from under them. The ground around the girl rippled, like a drop in a pond, a low rumbling sound vibrated in his chest. Moving outward the ripples expanded. Bushes swayed, trees toppled. Chiori rocked back and forth, trying to control it, trying to keep her promise.

  “No,” he said, his fingers curling into talons, breaking the iron bones in the goblin’s forearm.

  “What the hell?” Chasm said, looking at Chiori. “She’s too young to have that much power.”

  “I know,” Makkai answered, standing and dragging the goblin with him. It slashed with its claws, raking Makkai’s side and tearing his tunic. The fox hissed out a breath, the toxins under its claws burned under his skin.

  Without taking his eyes off Chiori, Makkai reached down and ripped the offending arm off from the shoulder joint. The creature shrieked and tried to yank itself away. He threw it at the tree’s feet. She swayed as another wave of power rippled the ground and planted a foot on his chest to keep him from scrabbling up and attacking again.

  “Take care of that thing, as you should have done years ago,” he said.

  “This isn’t my problem,” she protested.

  “You created this problem. Now take responsibility for it. Or has living in such close proximity to the humans and hunters taken your sense of compassion? Letting this creature live in this condition is a cruelty,” Makkai said.

  “I’ve been feeding off his magic. Revenge for his alliance with the scientists. He gave them the others to spare his own life.”

  “What was your plan for after he dies?” Makkai asked, venom in his voice. “There’s no life left in that creature, it’s an empty husk. Kill it. That’s the least you can do.”

  “The least you can do is siphon some of that off before she kills everyone,” Chasm answered.

  “That’s the plan. What will you do when I have her power at my disposal? You can’t hide from an Earthy,” he cocked an eyebrow at her, pleased to see her rethinking her words. Bracing himself against a tree Makkai lowered himself to Chiori’s level.

  “Sweetling I can help you, if you’ll let me. Hold out your hand and let it go. Push your power into me,” he said. Chiori’s head jerked up. It wasn’t fear he saw on her face, but rage. His little Chiori wanted to kill her would-be attacker herself.

  “Well, well,” Makkai said, half amused, half concerned. “Now is not the time for your first kill. It’s okay, give it all to me so it can’t hurt you. You can’t hurt me.”

  Chiori didn’t move, she’d stopped rocking, but the ground continued convulsing violently. He held out his palm, inviting her. He couldn’t take it forcefully, it had to be freely given.

  “What the hell is going on here, my Lord?”

  Makkai sighed. Fen. Of course he’d come. If he sensed his Lord was in danger he’d come, even if he’d been ordered not to. Even if he’d had to batter his way through the barrier. The human’s alarm system had been triggered, sirens wailed, hurting his ears.

  “Make that thing a corpse. Leash the dryad,” Makkai ordered. “Chiori. Trust me.”

  Her fingertips touched his, her other hand reached and he offered his as well. She flung herself forward, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her face to his chest. He couldn’t pry her off, and her heightened emotion sent the Earth into a roiling turmoil. This wouldn’t work, they needed skin to skin contact. He yanked his shirt over his head, her palms on his bare back. Fen grunted to one side. He held a large Oak, keeping it from falling over the top of them while still maintaining his hold on Chasm.

  “It’s safe now, give it all to me Little One,” he said. Chiori let go. Her magic washed through him, touching every bit of him, inside and out. It rooted him to the ground, awareness of every living thing nearby touching his mind. She tasted of wild berries, chocolate and hazelnut and fresh running water and a cool fall breeze. She was a complicated flavor, his Chiori. It had a lot of fear in it, her magic, and vengeance and anger, but most of all it felt like love.

  She hadn’t said it aloud, but the revelation knocked him back on his heels. The child loved him. He well knew lust and desire and even the drive to protect what was his. Those feelings were nothing in comparison, he’d never felt anything like this. What he felt for her was already the deepest he’d ever felt for anyone, and it was only the cautious beginnings of what she felt in return. He didn’t deserve this. He didn't deserve her.

  Makkai was already fighting his possessiveness, his desire to take everyth
ing she could give, her time, her presence, her attention, and it was steadily growing.

  He pressed his cheek to the top of her head and hugged her tight, well after the magic scaled back and the Earth stood still. He’d figure it out. She needed space and time to grow, to live her life independently of the demands he would make of her. Because Makkai had felt her love to his very core and he wanted it all. Every single bit. Before then, at the very least, he had to give her time.

  Makkai was so absorbed in Chiori’s emotions he didn’t notice what was happening around them. He felt nothing, saw nothing, knew nothing but Chiori. Until Airi shattered the space they shared.

  “It’s like they’re in a trance, they haven’t heard a word we said. How interesting,” she said, sending a current of electricity from the ground and through her friend.

  Makkai looked up in a daze, his focus returning quickly. Airi stared back, a broad grin on her face, her blonde hair pulled back in a braid, a Gnome on one shoulder, the dryad subdued at her feet, a horse stood quietly behind her. A sprite, a few spirits and the other two gnomes had gathered as well. The goblin was dead, his body stuffed in the bushes. The siren still blared.

  “You smell of Earth,” Airi said, crinkling her nose.

  “You stink of horse,” Makkai said, his voice thick.

  “Always,” she answered. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Fetching that.” He indicated Chasm.

  “And getting in a little nakie time with the Witch Child while you’re at it?” Airi raised an eyebrow.

  “Shut the hell up, Wench,” Makkai muttered to her laughter. He released Chiori and pulled his top back on. He stood and pulled her to her feet, but the girl wouldn’t look at him. She just stood there.

  “Did you take too much?” Airi asked, her joking tone replaced by concern.

  “No. She needs some time, I think,” Makkai answered, hoping it was true, but feeling that it wasn’t. Something was wrong with his bonded.

  “So… Are you planning on waiting here for the hunters, get some thanks for demolishing half the tree population for them, or did you have a plan?” Airi asked.