Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Pool
We took care of the shopping quickly. And quietly.
He simply led me to each store, sent me in to pick out what I needed, and then came in at the last minute to pay.
Handy when you know what the other person is thinking, or at least one of us did.
We packed everything into the back of the Jeep and headed up to his dead friend’s log cabin.
If only I could hear what he was thinking. I had been the one to go quiet first, but he was so good at being quiet. He had centuries of practice on me. Millennia?
As we approached the log cabin, I took a good look at it, having been too distracted the first time.
The wide porch and large windows made it instantly appealing, suited perfectly for its surroundings.
Despite the rustic appeal, the more I looked, the more the true condition revealed itself.
The chinking between the logs had deteriorated, and the wood was beginning to rot in places.
Long swaths of trim needed to be replaced.
Maybe I could come and work on it. If no one maintained the house, it would fall into disrepair.
I thought of Darryl. Did he ever come up here?
With his meddling nature, he’d notice the former occupant had disappeared mysteriously.
Then again, the No Trespassing signs probably kept most folks away.
Once we crawled our way up the jutted drive, we parked and jumped out of the truck simultaneously.
Since we weren’t really talking, I wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next.
Camazotz walked to the back of the Jeep, transforming into his original form in a matter of seconds.
I couldn’t help gawking as his muscles lengthened and broadened.
Horns grew out of the sides of his head.
Why did he prefer having horns? They had to be heavy.
His skin turned dark gray. Giant wings grew out from between his shoulder blades.
He went on ignoring me, grabbing the bags, and taking flight without another word or thought in my direction.
I watched him fly away, sticking my tongue out after him once he became a small dot on the horizon.
Big jerk. Think you’re unlovable, Freya?
Well, stop it. I like you, so there. Ugh.
I couldn’t shake the embarrassment, and, if I was being honest, the disappointment.
They stuck to me, along with residual feelings of inferiority I hadn’t dealt with yet, courtesy of Cassandra and Matthew.
I headed into the cabin, taking advantage of the distance between us to explore the place.
It wasn’t large or new, but I loved it. The floorboards, burnished from years of use, had mellowed into a deep walnut color, the wood smooth and almost soft to the touch.
Whoever had built it had used actual logs for the outer walls, but the missing mortar was visible from the inside too.
Left much longer, it would be drafty in the winter.
The downstairs consisted of a living room, a small kitchen tucked in the back, knotty pine like everywhere else, steps leading upstairs, and a half bathroom.
Other than the bathroom, it was essentially one large room, and it was more cozy than spacious.
The kitchen hadn’t been updated in decades, if ever, but the rustic charm worked with the rest of the building.
I had already seen the only upstairs room and bathroom, and there wasn’t much else up there except for a single bed and a tall dresser.
I dragged my feet up the steps, still wearing the dead man’s clothing, since my bags of new stuff were already being flown up to the big house.
I stripped down and studied myself in the mirror.
I could change my appearance and probably should, although at this point it would mostly be to spite the creature who had altered me.
My eyes had a weird back glow, but only if you looked long enough.
The color was close enough to the original, but the shape had changed.
Could I change them back? How would I do that?
Such a small thing, yet transforming into a totally different species felt easier.
Giving up for the moment, I reached inside for my crow.
This time, she came easily, and the next moment, I was inches from the floor, my surroundings again cartoonishly large.
With a hop, I flapped my wings and caught the air under them, diving into the living room and out the open door in one swoop before climbing up into the sky.
I followed the invisible tether leading me back to my temporary home.
The following week passed mostly in silence as we actively avoided each other.
While I kept my stuff in the feminine bedroom, my practical, modern clothing out of place next to the formal, moth-eaten dresses, I began sleeping in Mindy’s room.
It wasn’t as comfortable, but the distance gave me the illusion that my dreams and thoughts were private, even though it was too late to worry about him overhearing them.
He knew my deepest fears, my basest embarrassments, all the ways I was lacking.
Despite Darryl’s warnings, I wasn’t afraid of him.
Had he done things in the long time he’d been alive that would make my skin crawl?
Probably. Inevitably. But civilization had changed.
Our ideas of right and wrong were different now. Or was I rationalizing?
I couldn’t help but wonder: Who had used my room last?
Was he keeping it precisely the same in homage?
In the hope she would return? That last thought seemed unlikely, but still disturbing.
What had she been like? Nothing like me, that was certain.
She had been ultra-feminine, fond of frills and decoration.
A filigreed box sat on top of the dresser, the cast-off jewelry tangled and tarnished, but still overly fussy and intricate.
I preferred clean, modern lines, no clutter.
My heroes were all post-modernists. Despite being the same height as her, the waists of the dresses were tiny, as were the shoulders.
I could never wear anything of hers without altering it or myself.
I would never do the latter on principle.
My fingers played with the necklace chains, untangling them and setting them out on the dresser. One necklace was simpler than the others: a long, teardrop-shaped, jade-colored stone set in gold on a delicate gold chain. It felt cool in my hand.
Had he been in love with her?
I did my best to keep that thought from going any further, but it wasn’t easy.
He had shut me down so quickly, even before I could fully accept my attraction.
No, it wasn’t the attraction he had a problem with.
There was some sort of mutual draw, which I could sense, and a sort of familiarity.
I suspected we had the same sense of humor, but maybe not.
He didn’t want me to expect anything more.
In that, he seemed more like a typical man than an ancient creature.
Without overthinking, I slipped the necklace over my head, the weight of it settling between my clavicles.
It didn’t matter, I decided, who he loved and why she left.
He had given me an opportunity I wasn’t going to squander.
It may take some time to quiet the thoughts he insisted on overhearing, but I’d get there.
In the meantime, I had plenty to do. And if my feelings were still hurt, well, I had years of practice dealing with that as well.
During the evenings I read the books he provided, learning as much as I could about the Yucatán Peninsula and Mayan culture, both ancient and modern day.
From cryptic texts about the various gods and goddesses and the hair-raising levels of suffering in their Underworld, called Xibalba, to their stepped styles of architecture.
Mirroring the underworld to some extent, I learned about the hundreds of miles of underground caverns filled with water, level upon level of dark caves where fresh water sank through the porous limestone, creating a massive underground river, and the challenging growing conditions for crops and food sources.
I began visiting the log cabin on my own during the daytime.
I would wake up, eat breakfast, transform into a crow, flap over there, and fly up to the bedroom.
Once there, I would wear an old flannel shirt and some soft, clean boxer shorts, keeping me covered while I explored as my human self.
On the second visit, I discovered a cleverly hidden room off the back of the house that had been The Stag’s workshop.
He had every tool, both worn and reasonably new.
I could make this place pleasant. It would give me something to do to pass the time.
On the third day, I found his bills. If I could transform myself into something larger with wings, I could haul my computer over to the cabin, set up the internet, and keep in better touch with Mindy.
Or I could ask my Monster to bring it for me.
What would he say? If our mind-speak didn’t work at this distance, which it hadn’t the first night I had changed myself into a crow, I assumed my thoughts were private when I was at the cabin.
That made me smile. Would he care if I moved in here for a few weeks?
Probably not. The fact that it bothered me wasn’t a good sign.
I rolled my eyes. I had never been good at holding grudges and missed the insensitive jerk.
Needing a distraction, I sat down at the desk and picked up the phone, having memorized Mindy’s number the day before. She answered immediately.
“Mindy, it’s Freya. How are you?”
“Freya! It’s about time you called me. I’ve been calling, but it goes straight to voicemail. You haven’t replied to any of my emails either.”