Wilderness Untamed

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Wilderness Untamed Page 11

by Butler, J. M.


  His sweet, beautiful veskaro. Resting with him. Staying with him. Healing with him. He tucked her head beneath his chin.

  * * *

  It wasn't quite so cold any longer. Her breaths came easier and the tightness in her chest eased. The itching intensified though. Especially in her elmis. She rubbed her wrists absently.

  The tapestries surrounded her, the memories playing through like silent films. If she focused on one, the sound and scents rose. She squinted and peered into each one, finding that though it was dark, she could somehow see the forms. With each moment, the images grew clearer as all her other senses pricked into greater awareness.

  She pulled back abruptly, realizing that the spectral woman and whatever that other creature was could be in here as well. Until she sorted this out, she needed to stay alert.

  Still… curiosity tugged her gaze once more. This one was where Uncle Joe was fixing up his dark-blue truck. And then to the left was another where she was splitting logs for the wood stove. She recalled how she had imagined Naatos's face in it as she brought the hatchet down each time, not even feeling the burn in her muscles after working hard for over an hour.

  Time skipped again. She was farther in a curl of tapestries. Different memories flanked her on both sides. Almost all of them memories revolving around her life in Indiana.

  How small it was. How quiet. How lonely. The animals were the only things that made it larger.

  All at once, the dark passage with its moving lines of tapestries vanished. Somehow she was—she blinked, feeling warmth on her head. Sunlight. Lifting her hand, she shielded her gaze. She smelled horses and dogs, spring sunlight hot on the switchgrass and northern sea oats, fresh air blowing up over the freshwater lake. Then her eyes adjusted, and she gasped, covering her mouth.

  All around her were the dogs, cats, rabbits, foxes, rats, mice, iguanas, snakes, squirrels, owls, hawks, robins, starlings, and others she'd known and cared for. Even Imogene the old grey clydesdale and Dancer the crippled deer. They bound up to her, tails wagging, ears pricked forward. She hugged them all and kissed them on the head, sobbing and laughing at once. They bayed and barked, meowed and chirred.

  Falling to the ground, she reached out and held them. Her arms brimmed with soft furry bodies and warm scaly forms. "I missed you," she cried out.

  A bark came from the distance.

  Sitting up, she peered across the grassy meadow. He was far away but unmistakable.

  "Claudius!" Amelia cupped her hands around her mouth. "Claudius, honey, come here!"

  The dog's ears pricked forward. Then he bounded toward her. A German-shepherd-mix with an almost completely black tail, he was impossible to miss as he raced across the field toward her. Sometimes his black-capped head and big pointed ears disappeared beneath the swaying green grass, but he always popped up again immediately.

  She hugged him tight as if he were only a pup. He licked at her face, whimpering happily. "I wanted you to be okay," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry, Claudius. I'm so sorry." She kissed the top of his head. He thrust his wet nose against her cheek.

  "Look at you though," she said. "You're all better. You're so beautiful!" Claudius's tail wagged so hard his body shook. "You're here!"

  The other animals gathered close. Her breaths grew easier as the tension fled from her body and she embraced them all. Nothing mattered now except this.

  The sun shone bright overhead. This clearing was surrounded on all sides by a great deciduous forest, large and contemplative, each tree no shorter than forty feet in height—with one exception.

  A single oak stood in the center of the field, a large hammock with mosquito netting hanging between two deep-curved branches, perfect for swinging. Bright flowers of all shades were scattered at intervals, low in the grass. An urge to walk there overtook her.

  Standing, she made her way toward the oak. She didn't have to call the animals. They simply followed. All of them. Happy. Healthy. Whole. More familiar faces appeared as they continued on, and she greeted each one with increasing happiness.

  As she reached the tree, she found four other dear friends. But a spasm of fear shot across the back of her mind when she saw them, fighting against the delight. "Goodly, Lovely, Perfect, Angel!"

  The four tarantulas moved along the tree bark, almost at eye level.

  The air stilled, growing heavier as she stared at them. A dark wall of memories, blistered with fear, threatened to overwhelm her as dark clouds moved up from the horizon to the sun. The light dimmed.

  She clenched her jaw, pushing the sensation back, refusing to allow whatever images that fear brought with it to appear. They weren't coming here.

  No.

  These were her darlings too.

  She remembered them. Long hours spent learning how to care for them, how to hold them, how to work with them. She'd even come up with plans for their care and well-being if the Tue-Rah took her before their time passed. How many hours had they spent with her as she combed through books and searched for the Tue-Rah?

  Stepping closer, she reached out.

  Yes. Those were the memories to focus on. These tarantulas were delicate and beautiful in their own distinct way. So long as she focused on that and didn't give even a breath to the fear that crouched in the back of her mind, this was all right.

  They wanted to be held too.

  Angel tapped his forelegs against the bark and scurried up close. Grouchy Angel. He'd taken the longest to warm up to her, throwing those itching hairs at her like little darts, skulking and glowering in his dark corners and under the log. But here he was, signaling that he wanted on her hand.

  The other three followed.

  She put her hand against the trunk, aware of the grumbling thunder behind her but focusing on their delicate little feet and the graceful way they slipped up onto her arm and assumed their favorite spots. Even at their best, she had never managed to give all four attention at the same time. Not like this. But they were all so happy now.

  Imogene the mare nuzzled her, her soft horsey breath whooshing along her neck.

  Amelia kissed the horse's nose. As she did, Dancer pushed against her arm. She leaned out, noting that his twisted hind leg was completely healed. He booped her with his black snout once again so she scratched his throat. He stretched his neck out as far as he could, huffing happily.

  Each time she reached down or turned there was another animal, eager to say hello and be snuggled. Claudius circled the growing mass.

  Someone yipped in front of her. Straightening, Amelia's face brightened to see Tamara the bull terrier. The bright-eyed dog edged closer on her belly, her ears pricked forward. "Hello, baby girl." Amelia moved the tarantulas to her shoulder and then scooped Tamara up. She cradled her while Kicharo the ball python and Sneakers and Squeakers, two of the rats, scurried over her legs and Titus the tiger-striped tom cat rubbed against her back.

  Could any place have been better?

  A growl broke the calm.

  Amelia straightened. The animals had parted, and she had somehow moved to the ground. They were all now either behind her or beside her. All except for Claudius. He stood in front of her, teeth bared, hackles raised, ears laid back against his skull.

  "Claudius." She sat up.

  He snarled.

  Her chest tightened. The other animals backed away.

  Squeakers bounded to the side of her leg. "Claudius, be still. It's all right." She stretched out her hand as she leaned forward. "Squeakers, come away." The slim brown rat edged along her leg, whiskers twitching.

  Claudius continued to growl. He barked then, lunging forward half a step, then back.

  "Come on, baby boy. Don't do this, please," she whispered. Tears choked her throat. Most of the other animals cleared away. The rumbling in the sky intensified, the haze deepening and burning. "Please. It's all right. Everything's all right."

  Claudius's gaze shifted off her and seemingly to the small rat at her side. His ears laid back still farther as he lunged
forward.

  "No!" Amelia screamed. She flung herself at him. The large dog savaged her arm and shoulder, jumped, and seized her by the foot. Hot pain cut into her, shooting from her leg up along her spine. Then the sound deepened.

  She jolted awake, flinging out her arms and stiffening. Water splashed. Something solid stopped her hands. There were arms around her.

  Gasping, she struggled to take the world in.

  "Amelia?"

  She gulped in great clear breaths, trembling, a salty iron taste in her mouth.

  The field was gone. The animals. She was in water. Or something liquid. She couldn't see clearly. And someone was holding her close.

  "It's all right. You're safe." The arms around her tightened, a hand pressing firmly between her shoulder blades.

  She let her eyes slide shut again, her head dipping forward.

  That voice.

  Him.

  The arms around her tightened, pressing her against the length of a body.

  His body.

  "It was only a nightmare. You're safe here."

  When she opened her eyes again, she found herself staring up into Naatos's face. Her stomach flipflopped. "Why are we in a river?"

  His other arm was wrapped around her waist, as if they were about to dance. "You needed time to heal. Suphrite is a healing agent. Fast compared to your usual rate of healing. How do you feel?" He smiled a little, the left corner of his mouth drawing higher.

  She blinked, ducking her head. A thousand thoughts circled her mind, some her own, some his, humming like an energy barrier reaching its greatest limit. Tendrils of emotion coiled around her, bright, eager, wanting, brilliant, hopeful, fearful. For a moment, all of those coils, thoughts, and flavors blinded her with streaks of vivid color like a fragmenting prism.

  "Amelia?" He dipped his head forward, his chin grazing her cheek.

  She blinked again, her mind spinning. The world had yet to still. Water was rushing somewhere, but it didn't seem to be moving around her. Something large and reptilian called up in the sky, and its mate or rival answered back, throaty and creaky. And Naatos's heart was thudding beneath her hand.

  "I'm fine." Amelia forced herself to breathe slower. "I'm—it was…" She let her voice trail off, uncertain what to say.

  He was holding her. They were up against a rock in the center of this bizarre turquoise pool, he was half reclining, she resting against him. Completely against him.

  Her cheeks warmed as did her neck and the back of her head. She flattened her hand against his chest and started to push herself up. "Excuse me."

  His arm did not move. "Are you going someplace?" He smiled. There was something soft, almost playful in his crystal-blue eyes. Something urging her to stay.

  His chest was firm and muscular, his arms strong, almost comforting. Her elmis on her wrists itched and the elmis along the small of her back ached and itched. She wanted to put them against him or have him touch them or—"Is it morning?" she asked. "How long have I been asleep? It feels like it's been a while."

  "Mmmmhmmm." He glanced to the east. The sunlight broke through the leaves in long slanting golden beams.

  "And you stayed with me? I thought I saw AaQar." Her fingers curled against his chest. She kept her wrists from pressing against him. AaQar had said that that was what lovers did, and it had seemed like the strangest thing at the time. Except now all she wanted to do was find the connection that that would bring. Not that she could. Not within the eight weeks.

  "He was here for a time. If one does not need the suphrite's healing or the suphrite cannot help, it becomes uncomfortable after a few hours." He fingered a loose strand of her hair and then tucked it back behind her ear, lingering for a moment. "It was too dangerous to leave you alone. Not that this was how I intended us to spend our first night on Ecekom as veskaro and veskare."

  It certainly wasn't. That heat and those nerves spiraled through her, magnifying with each breath.

  Morning light streamed over the pool, soft and golden. The air on her face was cool. The pain in her foot and her back had faded at her awareness that Naatos was not simply objectively handsome. He was handsome to her.

  The planes of his face, which had seemed so harsh, and the stern cut of his jaw and cheekbones were no longer unappealing.

  Damn him!

  How had this happened? Where had he changed? The spark in his eyes captured her attention, luring her in closer. And his arms wrapped around her were not so frightening. They were almost… comforting. He was strong. He loved her.

  It reminded her of the intimacy when he was sedated with the huanna. When she had entered his mind while he slept to warn him. She'd contemplated what it would be like to stay with him. To let him hold her. To just be with him.

  Worse still were his lips. She didn't have to imagine that he would kiss her. All she had to do was even suggest that she might like him to kiss her, and he would oblige. Happily. Eagerly. Swiftly. Wherever she wanted. She could kiss him, and he would be—

  "I'm fine!" She pushed back abruptly. This time she broke free, his arms no longer holding her.

  She splashed into the water, submerging before resurfacing, spluttering. "I'm fine!" She went to wipe the water from her eyes but found that it had already evaporated. The top of her head was almost dry again as well.

  "Are you?" He regarded her with something akin to amusement, his manner almost languid. Resting against the rock, he rested his hands on the top of his head. "You got tense all of a sudden."

  She treaded water, her heart racing and her blood surging. Her cheeks had to be scarlet. "I'm in a new world. In a weird pond. With my worst enemy."

  He tilted his head, his mouth quirking even more to the left. "I'm not your worst enemy. If I didn't know better—"

  "Oh you do know better." She shot him a glare and then tried to take in this place. Where were they even? Ecekom of course. The wilderness, yes. This small pond of turquoise liquid was surrounded by trees on two sides, a sheer cliff on one, and a small path that led up a hill on the other. The waterfall poured out from that cliff and off into a ravine whose depths she could not see. The pond itself had a small river that cut out through the trees, slow moving with deep ripples along the center. "Where is everyone else?" She started to swim toward the nearest shore.

  "Probably resting or preparing breakfast. We made camp over that hill, but you don't have to rush away." He struck out as well. His strokes through the water were swift and smooth. "If you call this rushing. You aren't a fast swimmer."

  Amelia halted, treading water for a moment. Then she swam back to one of the boulders and pulled herself up. "You're showing off." She angled away from him.

  He swam up alongside her, mischief dancing in his eyes. "This is what impresses you?"

  She turned her shoulder to him, focusing on the far cliff face. "I didn't say it impressed me." He had excellent form though. As if he could have anything else.

  He lifted himself out of the water so that he was now level with her ear. "That blush of yours is back. And it's—it looks remarkably expansive."

  She shuddered as his breath wisped against her neck and ear. "You can take your observations and drown."

  "I would kiss you everywhere that blush touches if it weren't for the fact that you would not enjoy it. For now."

  She kept her gaze straight ahead, refusing to look at him even as she felt his gaze and his breath. "You're right. I would not enjoy that."

  "But soon."

  "Not soon." She straightened the tattered shreds of her lavender gown's sleeves. It was little more than rags now.

  Even worse, his heat reached her through the fabric.

  She could say yes. Really that was all she had to do. Say yes, and he'd figure out the rest. Probably tackle her into the water or pin her onto this rock.

  Her breaths quickened, her heart as well as the pulse within her elmis and her core intensified.

  She hugged herself, clamping her arms over her breasts. "Not now. Not any
time soon. Stop looking at me."

  "If you weren't so stunning, it would be easier. But when you behold true beauty, it's hard to look away."

  "I am not true beauty, and flattery accomplishes nothing." She smoothed her skirt down.

  "Doesn't it? You could reach into my mind to confirm. See everything I want to do to you and with you."

  "I'd like to push you off this rock."

  "Veskaro, you may push me wherever you wish." He kissed her bare shoulder. "I'm just happy to see you awake and alive. After all that's happened, this moment is one I would keep forever. You and I have countless years before us, but this, this will be one which I treasure eternally."

  "I'm not vestoving you today. Or tomorrow."

  "That doesn't change this moment." He kissed her again, his lips lingering this time. "I love you, Amelia."

  She tensed, her breaths tightening. She wasn't going to look at him. She didn't need to.

  "Naatos." AaQar's voice sailed over the hill. "Everything is ready."

  He let his forehead drop against her shoulder. "And thus all moments must end. If you're strong enough, veskaro, there are a number of tasks that should be completed this day. Regardless, you should eat."

  She put her hand on his face and pushed him back. "My shoulder is not a headrest."

  He grunted, then slid back into the water. "I suppose I'll have to rest my head elsewhere." He smiled without showing any teeth. "For now."

  She sighed, then shoved off herself. The warm water engulfed her like a great hug, and she began swimming immediately. Where did he get the nerve to be handsome and charming? Monstrous. Ridiculous. Insidious.

  She was going to have to keep her own head up if she wanted to figure out a solution to this that didn't result in her being destroyed or losing herself either because of Naatos or because of the spectral woman or some other part of herself that she had yet to subdue. And if he thought this was going to work, then—

  She didn't know how to finish that thought.

 

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