The Toll (71 page)

“
As long as I be breathin’.
Better believe it.”

Flying By

“
You know,” I clipped out,
trying to wrestle Calder into staying put in the small basin of
water I’d filled to bathe him
—for just one
darned minute—
squinting as he let out a
deep baby laugh, splashing me right in the face, “I could use a
little help... Oomph...
Gah!
Over here.”

Troll grunted, glancing up from the
large animal hide he’d finished skinning. Scales and fur mingled on
whatever mythical, mystical beast he’d hunted down, bloody feathers
and shiny, clinking iridescent scales, along with little bits of
fur that smelled strongly of wet dog, wafting towards
us.

Ornthren lived under Under, I’d been
told by my beloved grouch. Deep below Underhill was a series of
magic infused tunnels and deep caves, water filled caverns and
small grottos, a perfect haven for a night loving Ornthren who
still held ties to the human world. Well, this human world. Turns
out there are two planes of existence for man. The other one was
clear across the other side of the Hill, but I had little to no
interest in learning about such a place.

There was a magical realm streaming
with Others right above us, spewing magic right over our rock
covered heads.

They rarely ventured down this way,
possibly for fear of dismemberment by a territorial Ornthren, but
according to Troll, “Those wee Fae bastards and pansy assed Pixie
dust-butts could give a fig ‘bout us. Long as we dinna try ta take
over the top, they leave the bottom ta us. Live an’ let live, they
say. So long as those bastards stay away from what’s mine, they can
keep their heads. Havena had to decapitate one of them flower
lovin’ arse hats yet.”

He did warn of Centaurs, dragons, and
a few dozen or other creatures that had, from time to time,
wandered into the deeper part of the catacombs, towards the heart
of Nevermore, a shady part of the black forest, for the more...
primitive, rough dwelling Others. Which, naturally, had me cringing
and hugging Calder to my chest until he squeaked.

I made a mental note not to venture
too close to the surface, or the center, or anywhere for that
matter, without Troll.

A feather attached itself to Calder
and he giggled, plucking it up in his chubby fist as he yanked me
from my thoughts, trying to shove it into his always hungry little
mouth.

“
No. No,” I scolded gently,
snatching the feather up fast.

Grunting a chuff, he tried to take it
back, but I’d already wiped it on the sheet wrapped around my skirt
for an apron.

Vidi’s first visit back had
been complete with a visit from Brevin
—who’d looked hale and hearty to me, happy with his new
guardian, even—
as well as the clothes that
had gotten left behind in my haste to leave once upon a time so
long past. I’d thought it strange that it was all intact, but
Brevin had mumbled something about Aitziber’s bags, still full,
being found dumped in the barn, untouched.

When I’d asked Troll about it,
thinking it an odd happenstance, he’d simply grunted and waved it
off, sighting, “Stranger things have happened, Nugget.” And truly,
they had.

Calder, feeling thwarted as I shooed
another feather away, brushing the filthy muck away as they floated
towards us, let out a blood curdling wail, throwing his head back
as I hefted his weight out of the small tub, settling him quickly
in a pile of fresh, clean cloths. “Oh, come, come, little man. You
can’t eat that.”

“
Mum!” he wailed louder,
fat little tear drops trailing down his cheeks.

“
No, Mum says no, silly
boy.” He stared to roll over, determined in his obstinate, set
little mind that he was to have a feather. “Nope. Nuh-uh.” Rolling
him back, which was proving harder and harder as his weight became
more akin to a sack of rocks than a little babe. “Now then, you
wriggly little fellow, let’s dry you off, then, huh?”

“
No. No! No.” Shaking his
head as he sat up, tugging the sheet over his head, I snorted
quietly to myself, careful he didn’t catch on.

“
Lovely new word you’ve
learned, love, but Mum says yes,” I insisted.

Pulling the sheet up enough to peek at
me through the top, wide blue eyes bright, he glanced over my
shoulder, perking right up. “Mum yes?”

Smart little booger. “No, Mum says no
feather, yes to getting dressed.”

“
Humph.” the sheet went
back down. “No.”

“
Oi, wee beastie!” Troll
barked. “Quit givin’ yer mother grief.”

“
Troll.”

“
What?” he chuffed, waving
his tool at us from clear across the room. “He stopped, dinna he?”
In deference to my ‘delicate sensibilities’, he wore pants on the
rare occasions we ventured out, but here, in Under, he favored that
small bit of cloth that barely covered anything. A
tamptet
—he calls it.
Suitable attire for an Ornthren. An animal hide handkerchief—I say,
but didn’t have my heart in it to argue. Mmm-hmmm, I snuck a peek
over at him, watching as his thighs tensed, calves flexing, all
that exposed skin flashing with every precision like stroke of his
tool.

Blushing when he paused to
sniff the air, a self-satisfied rumble tumbling from his lips, I
shut that mental door with a firm kick.
Now is not the time for such lascivious
frivolities.

Quaz and Ketik, glancing up from their
own kills in the large, circular room, chuckled,
snickering.

“
Ugh! And stop saying he’s
a beast! He’s a baby.
Your
child, may I remind you. There is nothing
‘beastly’ about him.”

“
Mine, alright, an’ a right
beast, the wee devil.” Grinning over at his small Ornthren son, he
winked.

“
Is not.”

“
Is so.” He didn’t even try
to hide his smirk.

Troll had filled out quite a bit in
the weeks since he came back to us, and was still too thin as far
as I was concerned, but the old Troll was back, along with a bit of
new I wasn’t about to complain about, and my heart sang.

“
He bit me,” Ketik put in
helpfully, “drew blood.” Eyes narrowing, he held up his marred
flesh for proof. “Right blood thirsty whelp.”

“
You were antagonizing
him,” I sniffed defensively, “and he’s teething.” Already shooting
up like a weed, more than his fair share of chompers already in and
ready to clamp down, gnawing on solid food, he wouldn’t be a baby
for much longer. Ornthren really do develop too fast.

“
Mm,” Troll grunted, “what
did I say? A right beast of a wee beastie.”

Glancing down at my quiet son, his
little face scrunched up as he grunted, giving his father and uncle
a look of utter disgust as his gaze bounced back and forth between
them, I couldn’t help but mirror the feeling. Though Calder’s
talking was limited in comparison to his quick physical
development, he more than made up for it with his actions and
facial expressions.

Laughing, I wrapped a towel around
him, chortling. “I think mum-mum agrees with you,
sweet.”

“
Mum,” he mumbled, grabbing
my cheeks to yank me down to him for a smacking kiss.

“
Come on, lad,” Quaz
called, “come help me cook supper, eh?”

“
Sup! Sup!” Wriggling
loose, completely in the buff, he tried to make a run for it,
crawling away fast before I could snatch him up. My fingers grazed
him, but the little devil with thick grey skin and flashing blue
eyes was just too fast.

“
Hey!” I muttered, shaking
my head as he muddied his hands and knees across the bare floor,
racing to his uncle’s outstretched hands. “I just washed you,” I
mumbled, defeated. Tossing my hands up, I stood up, ready to drag
the basin over to the small hole in the center of the
room.

“
That’s what ye get fer
tryin’ ta wash a babe in the middle of the slaughterin’ room,”
Ketik snorted.

Slaughtering room.
I disliked that phrase immensely, but that’s what
this was, the room they butchered the meat in, skinning and
readying it to salt it for preserving, or cook
immediately.

“
Nobody asked you,
bloat-a-goat,” I shot back, collecting the towels and small bar of
sweet smelling soap, “and it was his idea,” my head jerked to
Troll, “not mine.”

“
Wench,” the purple-eyed
Ornthren muttered, cleaning off his tools on a small
cloth.

“
Horse’s ass.” And while I
thought of it, I shouted, “Quaz? You might want to cover him up,
hmm?”

“
What’s wrong with a bit
‘o’ nakedness among family? Our tamptets aint much a coverin’.
Ye’ve seen me balls a time or too. Havena gone blind yet!” I heard
him yell from down the corridor, followed by a booming
chuckle.

Shaking my head, my nose scrunched up
at the reminder. “Because you’ll be cleaning up after him if he
makes a mess, that’s why!” I called sweetly.

“
Right. Fine idea. Dressin’
it is.” Then, much lower, I heard him mutter, “Dinna be shittin’ on
me, lad, we’ll find ye a nappy.”

“
Quaz!”

“
What?” Acutely befuddled
at my harsh bark, the male truly had no clue.

Shaking my head, I prayed for
patience. “You’re all going to be the death of me,” I
grumbled.

“
Isna that bad, Nugget,”
Troll rumbled from his corner, mixing the skinned creatures brains
with various other ingredients for tanning. The remains of the
cracked skull of the creature, what was left of it, were repurposed
for a bowl to mix his concoction in.

Not willing to dignify that with an
answer, studiously looking anywhere but at the animal skull bowl, I
dumped the large tub out, collected the dirty linens, and strode
from the room. “I’m going to wash these and have a soak.” Once down
the hall, I bellowed, “Family or not, Quaz, you walk in on me
bathing, you’ll pray sanctuary! And pants!”

“
Loud and clear, Lady
Nugget!” Quaz called back.

Inviolable

Wringing out the final bit
of material, I set it on the line to dry. Night had fallen already,
and while I could have used the hot spring in one of the smaller
catacombs to wash, I craved the fresh air.
I’ll go wash in a minute
, I promised
the ache in my lower back.

Walking back over to the mouth of the
outside cave, the door back inside hidden in the wall farthest
back, I closed my eyes, listening to the crickets chirping their
little night time lullaby. Dipping my feet into the large river,
staring out at the unfamiliar trees and rocks beyond, I longed for
Troll’s cave—the closest I’d had to a home.

“
Look pensive.”

“
I am pensive.”

I knew when he was approaching, before
my ears had time to take note, my senses running wild at his
proximity, womb instantly heating as my woman’s place throbbed at
the mere scent of him.

I missed him, not having been intimate
in so many months, and not once since the weeks past. I craved his
touch as much as I craved the connection of our bond.

We’d needed time, the both of us, and
I understood that, but found my patience running thin, as of
late.

“
Wish ta talk ‘bout it,
then?” Setting his tools down, his warmth invaded me as he plopped
down right beside me.

Watching him lean forward to soap his
tools and dip them in the river, I shrugged, peeking over at him.
“Do you?”

A humorless laugh escaped him and he
sighed tiredly.

Clearing his throat, setting his tools
farther back on the ledge, about to speak, he shook his head and
gestured to me. “Ladies first.”

Clucking my tongue, I let my feet fall
with a heavy splash. “Since when did you ever consider me a lady?
Nope, sorry, old man. This time, I’m putting my foot down—troll’s
first.”

“
Calder shite on Quaz.”
Squinting into the distance, Troll let his feet slip into the water
slowly, wriggling his toes around in the cool, clashing waves of
the steadfast current.

Slanting him a disbelieving look, I
eyed him warily. “Really?”

Watching for my reaction, he grinned.
“No. Sure did piss all over him, though. Had to listen to him
bawlin’ ‘bout it on me way out here.”

A small smile, a tiny bit of the devil
in me peeking out, tipped my lips. “Serves him right.”

My mate-husband snorted a chuckle.
“Ketik had a good laugh about it.” Cocking his head, orange eyes
swirling, he studied me closely, gaze intent.

Frowning at the tinge of jealousy that
rocked through him, and subsequently into me, I blinked and it was
gone, quick as a flash.

Frowning harder, I smoothed my hands
down the hard rock ledge, cupping my fingers over the edge. “Yes,
well, Ketik’s an ass.”

“
He kissed ye.”

Snorting, I lifted my toes, watching
fat water droplets fall as they swung in the open breeze. “We were
just trying to bring you back.”