Remedy Maker (10 page)

“Greetings, Centaurs,” Pennelope inclined. “Greetings, little Nymph. ‘Tis a fine day for a walk.” Although the Nymph no longer strolled—the two-legged Centaur carried her like a sapling in his arms. 

As the equine guard spoke, his eyes traveled over her face and figure with familiar interest. “Hello, Pennelope. It’s been a long time since my last visit.” He stomped a hind leg to kick at the flies gathering under his belly.

“Has it?” She stared back at him. His eyes and face were familiar, but the well-defined warrior’s body didn’t match her three-hundred-and-some-year-old memory.

She shifted her gaze to his traveling companions. “My dear, are you not well?” Though she smiled, the girl’s complexion appeared pasty, sweat beading her brow. The inner-joy aura of yellow sparked in this innocent one, but discrete vibrations of the white aura of death stabbed intermittently. Pennelope reached out her hand and patted the girl’s arm, her bracelets sliding to jangle around her wrist.

“I’m
alrightish
, thanks.” The Nymph stroked the neck of the Centaur who held her.

Now that’s something you don’t see every day. Interesting.

The large bodied man who carried the pixie furrowed his brow, but didn’t pull her away. Instead, he looked as though he was sizing up the entire Troll race, based on her representation.

“You haven’t aged a day in the past century. Just as beautiful as I remember,” the weapon-clad warrior intoned. 

Pennelope turned back to the familiar man, snapshots of memories flooding into her. “I know you now.” Her heart skipped a thudding beat. No longer able to keep still, she hopped off her rock to stand between the towering males. “You’re that naughty little Centaur who used to come calling, faking his ailments to receive my . . . treatments.”

She laughed and dusted her hands off, pleased to see Aleksander’s smile grow wide.

“Rhycious.” The Nymph wiggled in the brawny man’s arms. “Drop the hero bit. You don’t need to carry me, I feel better.”

The Centaur gave the young woman a quick squeeze before placing her gently on her feet.

Pennelope leaned her head back to examine the controversial couple, wishing she’d stayed on her rock to be at eye level.

Aleksander performed the introductions. “Pennelope, I’d like you to meet Patience, of the Wood Nymph community.”

The precocious twinkle in Patience’s eyes held no condemnation for her being of the Troll race. Friendship shone in the girl’s honest face and beamed in her bright smile. Pennelope held her hand out, immediately taken with the girl.

The little pixie’s hand pressed clammy between her palms.

Pain. Weakness. Strong mental fortitude but uncertain for her future.
She read Patience’s nature aura in the energy path vibrating from her arm. Pity grew for the skinny kid. The brave front she portrayed for the benefit of her friends sapped her strength. At the rate her body was deteriorating, she’d be gone in under a year.

“Hi, Pennelope. I’m so totally stoked to meet you.”

“You are?” She chuckled and released the girl’s hand with a musical jingle from her wrist. “I don’t believe anyone’s ever been excited to meet a Troll.”

Patience nodded, her smile brighter than the afternoon sun. “I am. And straight-up, I’m off the
hizzle
. People,” she tsked, “they can be
giggin’
the Emo shake at times.”

The male behind the Nymph groaned and laughter burst out of Aleksander.

“We don’t know what she’s spouting half the time either.” The man with the closed, unreadable face introduced himself, offering his open hand. “I’m Rhycious. I’ve heard of your healing skills, you’re quite the legend.”

“Rhycious . . . the Remedy Maker?” A telling flush crept out across the man’s cheeks as he scuffed his boots in the dirt. “You’ve gained notoriety yourself, you know.”
What the hell is he doing running around Boronda with a Wood Nymph and Aleksander? Interesting.

Pennelope shook his hand and held it a moment, smiling up into his eyes. The dark, creeping stain spreading over this Centaur’s soul made her heart beat faster.
Anguish, violence, unleashed anger.
It boiled in a caldron within him and simmered below the surface, fighting to be released.

Patience placed her small pale hand on Rhycious’s arm, and his nature aura changed instantly. The oily black smear that fought for liberation relaxed. Pieces broke away, tempered by his nurturing nature.
All from the mere touch of a stick of a girl.
Interesting.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Pennelope moved a step back. Dark thoughts and anger showed in his gray and sulfur colored aura swirling a vapor trail from her hand. “I doubt the three of you are out for a spring day stroll.” She fluffed her hair with her fingers and winked at Aleksander.

Aleksander cleared his throat. “I’ll . . . be right back. There’s something I gotta do.” He trotted off into the dense portion of woods beyond the rock and disappeared from sight.

She shrugged and returned her gaze to Rhycious and Patience, who were fidgeting a bit themselves. “Well?”

Rhycious dug a hole in the dirt with the toe of his boot. Dust puffed up in protest, and then settled over the ground again. He looked up and met her eye. “Alek thought you’d know where we can locate a Centaur named Nubbs.”

“Perhaps.” Pennelope crossed her arms. Nubbs. An unfriendly individual, if there ever was one. “Have you tried the usual spots? He prefers the underground hovels, you know.” 

Rhy shook his head. “I don’t know the man.”

“Look in places filled with loose women and strong drink.” Pennelope had her uses for Nubbs, but that wasn’t something she’d broadcast. Besides, Nubbs would snap the fragile Nymph in two if they encountered him in a drunken rage.

Pennelope studied Rhycious under her veil of lashes. The unbalanced healer could easily be pushed over into an unrecoverable state of mind. She’d speak with Aleksander regarding her concerns, but ultimately this wasn’t any of her concern.

A cottontail rabbit in his brown summer coat raced out from the underbrush, zigzagging around the tree trunk. It ran up to hide next to her ankles. Pennelope reached down and stroked the velvet soft fur, murmuring a prayer of wellbeing. When she straightened, it hopped away, heading toward a shaded patch of clover.

Aleksander emerged, pushing pine boughs out of his way. His four black marked legs had merged into two that showed powerful through his low-slung leather pants. The buckle of his belt reflected the Queen’s twin scythes.

After he rejoined the group, Pennelope picked up the topic of conversation. “If you’re looking for Nubbs, think low-level establishments. Places where dirty, villainous types consort.” She ran her hand down Patience’s arm and held onto her clammy hand, her pointed look directed at the males. “And don’t take this one with you.”

Patience pulled her hand back and set it on a jutted hip. “I’m not scared.”

Foolish girl, you should be.
Pennelope smiled at the girl’s show of steel. “Your courage is not in questions here, little Nymph. Your virtue is.”

The girl’s face blushed a becoming crimson, and she glanced to her Centaur protector.

“Agreed.” Rhycious wrapped an arm around Patience and drew her back against him.

“I suggest you try a watering hole called
The Three Legged Mare
.” Pennelope bowed her head toward Aleksander. “May I speak with you a moment?”

Without waiting for his reply, she sidestepped a short distance from the others. Out of earshot, she voiced her concerns for Rhycious and Patience.

“Pennelope.” He grasped her fingers and held them in his warm hold. “Rhycious has been ordered by Queen Savella to carry out this mission. I cannot advise him otherwise and go against Her Majesty.” His hands glided up her arms, sending an ambrosial tingle to follow in its wake. Rough palms cradled her face, and his eyes roved over her features. “I’ll be on guard with Patience. Rhycious told me of the illness that plagues the Nymph.”

His thumb brushed over her lips, and she leaned toward him. After one hundred years, the attraction still smoldered. Need opened inside her like an empty bucket yearning to be filled.

Her handsome lover had grown into a powerful man, and she found herself longing for the comfort of his arms—just once more. His tenderness and ability to skyrocket her desires were cherished memories, only brought out to recall on lonely occasions.

Aleksander.

Leaning down, Alek smiled through bleak eyes. He touched his soft lips softly to hers. “I’ve never forgotten you, Pennelope. Never. Gods, how I wish things could have been different for us.”

Tears sprang into her eyes, clouding the image of the one man she might possibly have loved.

Eight

Shadows stretched out in sinister fashion as he, Rhycious, and Patience wended their way toward the setting sun. Streamers of sparkling light jabbed through leaves of beech and hemlock trees, outlining grazing silhouettes of deer caught in the beams.

Aleksander’s mind locked on the memory of Pennelope’s forlorn face. A single tear had coursed down her soft, rosy cheek. Seeing her again, after all these years, tore open the old wounds. His chest ached from the direct hit to his heart.

Above them, the sky hung wild, an abstract painting in Pan’s all-powerful gallery. Shades of orange, red, and purple showered the Earth in vivid color.

He pictured Pennelope and smiled. Her auburn hair was shorter than when he’d last seen her, the spunky look fit her personality. It took all his warrior control to keep his fingers from delving into her silky tresses. He remembered her violet eyes all too well; they’d visited his dreams over the past century.

Composted leaves shuffled underfoot, releasing an earthy scent. Birds sang evening songs in the fresh spring air.

Pennelope.

Lovely and kind. And he’d never fulfill her expectations in a man. He was Kempor Aleksander, Head Palace Guard. Pennelope deserved better than him.

Alek glanced at Patience as Rhycious helped her over a log, and wondered if it was difficult to be a Wood Nymph, having to step over the dead and watch them rot. Her ruddy cheeks puffed with exertion. She grew steadily weaker and slowed them up.

“Let’s stop and rest a minute.” Rhy lifted her by the waist and set her gently on the log. “How much farther to your home?” He massaged her legs and rubbed the sides of her hips.

“We stopped less than thirty minutes ago.” Alex rolled his eyes. The love struck Centaur couldn’t keep his hands off the pretty Nymph. Maybe his touch was merely to steady her balance. Maybe not.

And who gives a shit? Not him. He had more important matters to worry about.

“Fuck-off, Alek.” Rhy snapped back. “Patience needs to rest.”

“Boys—you’re both up in each other’s grill. Back off and chill.” Her voice sounded weary. She placed her arms around Rhy’s neck and he helped her to the ground. “It’s not much farther, just past the creek. We’ll be there in less than an hour.”

Alek noted the dark rings below her eyes, lines of fatigue bracketed her mouth. He and Rhy were accustomed to the grueling pace in the rolling landscape, but Patience was not. Plus, her health issue. He sighed and nodded.

“Let me carry you,” Rhy said.

“No, don’t be silly, stud muffin. Thank you, but I can make it.”

Alek snorted. “Stud muffin? Ha! I can’t wait to tell Hippy about that one.”

Rhy flung a non-flying bird in his direction.

They continued until the sun began to sink below the western horizon. Rhy excused himself and jogged a short distance away, also preferring to make the conversion into his Centaur body in private.

The trees in this section of Boronda grew tall and thin, providing minimal coverage. Shrubs were nonexistent, so privacy wasn’t an option. Fifty feet away, near a twisting sycamore, Rhycious turned his back. He removed his boots and pants, and rolled them up to place in his backpack.

A sharp convulsion shook the lower half of Rhy’s body and he sat his bare ass on the spongy leaves.

“We’ll just leave you to do your thing.” Alek turned away to give him space, but Patience remained rooted to the spot. Her wide, moss-colored eyes stared in fascination, her little cupid mouth formed a perfect O.

Alek glanced at his watch, and then over his shoulder. Rhy’s lower half sprouted a glossy buckskin coat, black hairs raced down his legs into feet transforming into hooves. He smiled when Rhy gave a great jaw-popping yawn and scratched the hair growing over his belly. It always itched when the flank elongated and the hide filled in.

Alek’s own form would change in the morning, hours before the break of dawn.

Rhycious pulled a leather shoulder harness out of his backpack and stuffed his clothes in. Then he rose to stand on all fours. Walking slow measured steps, he strapped on his weapons yoke, and tugged his t-shirt into place. He came to a stop in front of a gaping Patience.

“You okay,
polytima
?” Rhy brushed her hair from her face, and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

Alek had seen enough mush.
To hell with that.
He veered away and made tracks down an animal trail in the direction of Patience’s home. Watching the two love birds simper at one another gacked the shit out of him.

“Wait up, Alek.” Rhy’s hooves pounded the ground, trotting to catch up.

“Keep up or get left behind. You know the rules.”

“Dudes, take a chill pill. We’re all hungry and tired, so let’s cut each other some slack. I’ll make grub when we hit my pad, then you won’t get
lairy
on your
dawg
. You feel me?”

“I have no idea what you said, but I heard the word grub.” Alek glanced back and eyed Patience.

His line of vision hit her mid waist and he craned his neck back.

Alek broke out laughing, and the harder he tried to stop, the more he gasped for breath. “You’re letting her
ride
you? Holy Pan! You’ve got it bad.”