12. So Many Legs
So Many Legs
Liam
“If you look closely,” Cerise said, hunched over a table in one of the research tents. “You can see the tiny hairs on its abdomen. Who can tell me what these are for?”
Aaric and Sylvie began speaking at once, talking over each other to prove their knowledge.
I sat back in a chair and watched Cerise teach our students about the bright pink tarantula they had caught.
Emberly and Dr. Rosenshield were in the other research tent, cataloging and organizing the plants they’d collected, and Ivan was napping under a tree.
It had been about a week since the cave incident and we’d stayed close to camp the majority of time, collecting our specimens from the nearby terrain. After our poor luck with the spider and the jungle cat, it seemed our group was a tad reluctant to venture too far from the safety of our home base.
Cerise and I had formed a sort of friendship since we shared that beer.
We still irritated each other, but my initial curiosity was turning into something more.
I longed to get to know her; to learn what made her tick.
And not because I was bored or found her puzzling, but because I wanted to.
She was interesting. Beautiful, passionate, intellectual.
Sometimes she even attempted to be funny, which usually didn’t work but she was so damned adorable when she tried.
I wasn’t just curious. I was intrigued. I hadn’t had a romantic relationship in years, but something drew me to Cerise and I couldn’t stop watching her.
The way the corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled with pride when Aaric answered a question correctly; how she suppressed a laugh when Sylvie made a joke; the easy way she explained things to the students.
Cerise glanced up and caught me watching her. I gave her a smile and she blushed in that usual endearing way before turning back to Aaric to answer a question.
I rose from my chair and joined the group.
“Oh! Hi Doctor Pendragon.” Sylvie fidgeted with the piece of paper in her hands. “Did you see this spider? It’s fascinating.”
“I’ve seen many.” I picked up the small specimen jar and gently turned it. “This is a nice one, though. Much brighter than those I’ve seen.”
“Yes!” Sylvie clapped her hands together. “I caught that one myself. It was just over there in the—”
“Sylvie,” I interrupted. “Why don’t you and Aaric go help Doctor Rosenshield categorize his plants?”
“Oh.” She shifted on her feet. “Of course. Come on, Aaric.”
The two of them left and I strode to the other side of the table, stopping next to Cerise.
“Why did you do that?” she asked.
Because I wanted to be alone with you. “They were starting to annoy me.”
“That was terribly rude.”
I shrugged. “They’ll get over it. It’ll be good for them to learn about the plants as well. They aren’t here solely for us.”
“I suppose you’re right. Well, now that you’re here, can you help me with something?”
The pitter patter of rain began on the canvas tent. Just a light afternoon shower, bringing much wanted cool air to our stifling camp.
I let my eyes roam her face, pausing on her lips before meeting her gaze again. “Anything you need, sunshine.”
The blush on her cheeks crept down her neck.
“Well,” Cerise said. “I’d like to extract venom from this icdicae.
There could be some important healing properties we haven’t learned about yet.
” Cerise gestured to a large clear container holding a bright green foot long insect with a segmented body and about a hundred legs.
I leaned over the table, inspecting the animal. “You want me to hold the container while you extract?”
She shook her head. “Of course not. You’ll hold the insect and extract while I hold the venom container.”
Most insects didn’t bother me. But this thing gave me the creeps. The way its legs moved when it crept along the glass, how it lifted its head, trying to find a way out. I tried to hide the shudder that made its way through me.
“You want me to pick it up…with my hands…”
“What’s the matter, Doctor Pendragon?” Cerise laid a hand on my exposed forearm, my skin heating from that simple touch. “Are you scared?”
I put my hand on top of hers and brushed my thumb against her soft skin. “Of course I’m not scared.”
Clearing her throat, she pulled her hand away and reached for the container. “Okay, then. Here you go.” She handed it over.
I donned a thick pair of gloves sitting on the table, then opened the box, wincing as I snatched the writhing insect in my hand. I could feel its sharp legs gripping me despite the gloves and it made my skin crawl, though I tried to hide it.
This is horrific.
“I’m going to need you to do this quickly, Cerise.”
“Well, you must hold it correctly. Right behind the pincers on its head,” Cerise instructed, looking at me with amusement.
“I’m trying. It’s too wiggly.” I groaned as it flailed even harder in my grip.
“Too wiggly?” She snorted.
The rain picked up, now a steady downpour as it hammered the canvas above us, making it harder to hear each other over the noise.
“Hold the container,” I said.
“What?”
“Hold the container!”
Cerise picked up the vial topped with a specialized paper designed for milking the venom from snakes and other creatures.
I gripped the icdicae behind the head with one hand and attempted to control its writing body with the other.
My glasses started sliding down my nose. “Help!”
“What?” Cerise shouted over the rain.
“My glasses!”
She pushed my glasses back up my nose and burst into laughter at my obvious disgust with the insect. She could barely hold the vial still, she was laughing so hard.
“Dammit, hurry up! I can’t hold onto this thing much longer!”
Still laughing, she held the vial just below the insect’s pincers. I brought it closer and it bit down, drops of venom dripping into the glass container.
After a couple of minutes, Cerise nodded, indicating she’d gotten enough, and I shoved the creature back into the specimen box and shuddered, removing my gloves.
The rain died down to a drizzle, the downpour leaving as quickly as it came. The sounds of birds wound their way through the boughs above, as if they were laughing at my plight.
“Well, that was an adventure,” Cerise said, hands on her hips. “Who knew you were scared of icdicae?”
“They just have so many legs,” I groaned. “Long, sticky, sharp legs. Next time, you’re holding it.”
She nudged me. “It will probably go smoother if I do.”
I lay in my tent, tossing, turning, and lamenting over my inability to fall asleep for hours. It was so damned hot. Hot, sticky, and stifling. Absolutely miserable.
“Ugh,” I groaned loudly, rolling over and flopping onto my bedroll.
“Are you awake too?” Cerise called from her tent.
“Unfortunately.”
“It’s too hot. I can’t sleep.”
“Seems we’re in the same predicament.” I let out a big sigh, staring at the brown canvas above me.
An owl hooted close by, a haunting and beautiful melody rising above the steady trill of insects and the occasional cry of a nocturnal mammal.
A breeze rustled the leaves in the boughs of the trees, blending with the trickle of water from a nearby stream.
It was beautiful. Peaceful. It should have relaxed me.
But the symphony of the jungle was not enough to lull me to sleep.
Not with the oppressive air in this godsdamned tent.
I sat up. “I have an idea.”
“What?” Cerise sounded less than enthusiastic.
“Meet me outside in five minutes.”
“No. It’s the middle of the night. We should be sleeping. I need my eight hours or—”
“Cerise,” I interrupted. “Shut up and meet me outside in five minutes.”
“Did you just tell me to shut up?” She scoffed, then mumbled to herself as I heard shuffling around the tent as if she was getting dressed.
I pulled on a pair of trousers and a shirt, laced my boots, and went outside. Moments later, Cerise emerged wearing her usual attire of thick pants, a button-up, and her hair braided tightly down her back.
“How do you look so put together in the middle of the night?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to come out here in my sleep clothes. That would be—”
“Highly unprofessional,” I finished, giving her a wink.
“Right. So what are we doing?”
“Something fun.”
“You’re not going to explain?”
“Nope.” I scanned the camp around us. “First, I need something to light our path.”
Cerise straightened and a little gasp escaped her, as if she was excited. “I have just the thing.” She disappeared back into her tent, returning with a white stone. “It’s a luxumstone.” She beamed, handing it over. “Just rub it between your hands and it’ll provide us light.”
I couldn’t help my smile. “I know what a luxumstone is, sunshine. Why are you suddenly acting like a child who found a secret stash of their parents’ candy?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re just a tad enthusiastic about this rock.”
“Oh.” She gave me a sheepish grin. “Well, the day before we left, Emberly was teasing me that I overpacked and we didn’t need these ‘extra items’ because they would be provided to us.”
I chuckled. “Ah. I see. And now you’re doing a little happy dance in your head because you proved her wrong.”
Her smile grew. “Exactly. First the tea—you know, the tea that helped with my spider bite—and now this. There is no such thing as overpacking. I was just prepared.”
I couldn’t look away from her. The glee on her face was contagious and the next thing I knew, I found myself grinning along with her. “Well, then make sure you gloat to Emberly about it tomorrow.”
“Oh, I plan on it. Now what?”
I rubbed the luxumstone between my palms and it began to glow. “Be quiet so we don’t wake the others,” I whispered, leading her to one of the research tents and handing her a net. I grabbed a specimen container and net for myself before waving for her to follow me.
“Are we catching something?” she asked.
“Shh…”
I silently led her into the jungle, stepping over debris and fallen trees. The rain from earlier today had ceased, leaving sparkling drops of water on the leaves glittering in the light like crystals.