Chapter Five
Nova
“Today I went foraging for the first time with Mama. It took us an hour to get to the woods, but I found stinging nettle! Mama says I’m a natural.”
Thick snow pattered against the roof, echoing in time with the flickering candlelight and crackling fire, the wood freshly chopped by Altair only hours before.
It was bizarre watching him work when I knew he’d likely never had to do such a thing before.
Then he had insisted I sleep in his bed, which was just… unsettling.
We had spent the day before in mostly quiet following Altair’s comment about my family home, causing the hours to drag on.
He had loaned me a long-sleeved black top and a pair of black cotton pants.
I had bathed as quickly as I could, digging any remaining debris from my curls.
When I had come out, Altair had momentarily stared at me, his eyes unblinking until they darted down as he had cleared his throat. Weird man.
Even the stars were too bored by us to make an appearance.
Sleep came fitfully, filled with nightmares that left me waking throughout the night. Altair was laying on the ground just beside the bed, his eyes glowing as they’d find mine in the dark.
He was so creepy. And…off. I almost missed his constant teasing and belittling. Though I wasn’t sure I’d be able to take it.
When I woke up to find the sun beginning to rise and casting a vibrant pink hue across the cottage, I decided I’d begin plotting.
Altair was sleeping soundlessly, the pinks and purples highlighting his sharp features and casting odd shadows across his face.
Something was wrong with him, but I didn’t have time to figure it out.
Instead, I crept towards my bag and snagged my journal, taking it back to the bed. The air was frigid, my breath visible as I settled back into the blankets. Death gave me what looked like an annoyed glance before digging her way beneath the covers and settling by my thigh.
Wasting no time, I opened my journal and began planning everything I’d need. Based on what Altair said, the island would be a great resource. And I’d need a lot for the plan that was quickly brewing in my mind to work.
***
The small patches of forested areas beyond the ruins were rather impressive.
Twigs and chilled grass crunched beneath my boots as I walked, my hands already dirty from digging up plants throughout the morning. Just one left. All I needed to push forward.
Minutes later, there it was, nestled beneath a towering downy birch. A smile spread across my face as I jogged towards it, a hint of victory bringing warmth back to my body. Witch hazel. One of the few plants that could survive beside such a tree.
I should have checked this area first.
“Better late than never,” I whispered, digging my bare fingers into the cold soil. Within minutes, I was holding the plant and shadow walking back to the cottage, ready for the fun part.
By the time the door to the cottage creaked open, I had already begun the tedious process of replanting. Not nearly as difficult as foraging, but slow work nonetheless.
Altair’s head popped out first, a single brow raised above barely open eyes. He looked exhausted, which made sense seeing as he barely slept. Perhaps he’d regret giving me the bed and snatch it back. I almost wished he would, if only to prevent me from being even more indebted to him.
My knees were digging into the dirt I had lifted, my fingers coated in the damp earth I had painfully freed. All around us, grey skies and chilly winds created an almost eerie hush, the snow from the previous night coating the ground.
“What are you doing?”
“Gardening,” I said, shrugging.
He scoffed, wrapping his arms around himself. “Are you crazy? It’s freezing out here.”
“It’s peaceful.”
Altair shook his head, blowing air out of his mouth so quickly it rattled his lips. Curious, I watched as he clenched his jaw and flicked his gaze between where I sat and the comfort of his cottage. Why didn’t he just leave me alone? He couldn’t be that determined to win me over.
“Go inside, Altair.”
I waved him off, turning back to the plot I had made, focusing my attention back on the magic I was using to ward it against the elements.
I had already crafted a heat source, the melon-sized bead of tech floating like a miniature sun above my garden.
I was growing tired, my body still sore from the fight with Talon.
But I could tell that, somehow, Altair had healed me well. Far too well to make sense.
Perhaps he had spent six months training himself to be a medic. Not that it would matter when he wasn’t really an elite anymore.
Neither of us were.
Suddenly, a pale hand slid towards the two-foot high yarrow plant, his fingers just grazing the tiny clusters of white flowers before I reached out and smacked him.
He let out a surprised yelp, tugging his hand away.
Peeking over at him, I bit back a smile at his slack jaw and wide eyes. Served him right.
“Don’t touch my plants.”
“You can’t be mean to me, Little Void. I saved your life.”
“Sure I can. I’m gardening in return.”
He huffed, squatting down beside me. Though I wasn’t trying to, I couldn’t help but notice how his smell had changed since Elite Academy.
While I could still scent the vanilla that clung to him, the whiskey was gone, in its place a hint of smoke.
We were far too close, his arm almost grazing mine, the puffs of his breath fanning me as he turned his face in my direction.
“That isn’t the same.”
“You saved my life, now I’m fostering more life.”
“Tomato, tomahto, as they say.” A barely-there smirk raised the left half of his mouth, one of his dimples ghosting by.
I recalled when I had corrected him after graduation, the way he had played with my curl before cutting it like a lunatic.
Maybe he had already begun going crazy before he had run away.
Still, he was noticeably more…whatever he was.
“You’ve changed a lot since you left.” My tone was accusatory, but I couldn’t hide the curiosity that rippled within me like a pebble in a lake.
Without breaking our eye contact, he said, “And you’re exactly who I knew you were.”
“Care to elaborate on that?”
“Nope.”
“Didn’t think so.” I looked away first, officially too uncomfortable to continue the game he was insisting on playing. “The plants will also help you breathe better. Not by a lot, but anything will help when this air is pretty much salt and fumes.”
“Do you have any that will make me breathe less?”
“Actually, yes.”
“Wait, are you serious?”
Pointing to the towering violet flowers in the back left corner, I said, “Monkshood.”
“Tershetta,” he said, cocking his head and jabbing a thumb towards the monkshood, “you can’t be growing murderous plants in my garden.”
“Technically, it’s my garden.”
“Regardless, you can’t be fostering poison near my home.”
“I have another plant you can smoke if you’re bored of whatever you’ve been inhaling and want to feel better.”
He seemed to mull that over, tilting his head back and forth and tugging the corners of his mouth down. “Fine. Give it to me and you can grow your death bush.”
***
Altair went through two burners before I finished warding my garden, all the while, he prodded me with questions.
What are you growing?
Why the sudden urge to be a plant-keeper?
What do you plan to do with all of those?
Who taught you how to ward like that?
Are you hungry?
Are you thirsty?
Do you need a cloak?
What are you plotting, Little Void?
On and on and on he asked despite my lack of response. It was aggravating at best, concerning at worst. The stars seemed to creep closer to the front of my mind with every word, though they remained silent. I wished they’d explain themselves. Explain him. Explain anything.
I finally agreed to go inside after five dramatic huffs, two straight minutes of pacing, and nine instances of how much longer?
Even then, I still didn’t speak much to him.
We walked inside, and I sat on the small, sapphire sofa, where Death pounced into my lap, slapped my stomach, and then promptly passed out.
Altair didn’t look at us, instead heading over to his kitchen table and plopping down with a heavy groan, as if he had been the one doing any work at all.
Almost delicately, he lifted his long fingers to the bridge of his nose and pinched it, letting his head fall back.
“You are an exhaustingly relentless woman, did you know that?” he asked, his voice husky from the chilly air outside.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve never in all my life met someone who insisted on doing everything. You were just attacked by stars know who—oh wait, you know who as well—and yet you’re gardening outside in sub-freezing temperatures. You’re absolutely impossible and borderline stupid. I truly cannot stand you, Tershetta.”
Oh good, we were back to being normal, then.
Quietly and quickly, I looked at the small knife I had used against him the day before where it still lay on the counter, and summoned it to me.
It flew to my hand, and the moment it touched my palm I hurled it his way.
Without even looking, he reached up and snagged it out of the air inches from his face, then threw it right back at me.
While I wasn’t nearly as deft as he was, I did catch it. “There he is.”
“Who?” he asked.
I paused, unsure if the joke would land. He was drunk that night, after all, so he might not have remembered what he said. Still, I repeated his words nearly verbatim, just adding my own touch.
“My hateful little snake. I like you best this way.”
His head whipped forward, eyes locking onto mine with an intensity I hadn’t been ready for. My shoulders pulled inward of their own accord, my torso shoving back into the plush pillows of the sofa.
“You don’t like me at all,” he whispered.
We continued to hold one another’s gaze as I said, “You’ve got me there.”