Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Even with the upper hatches closed, light crept in through the small gaps Braxxos had intentionally built into the roof of the structure along the edges. They extended beyond the walls, angling down to catch any rainfall in the little gutters he'd constructed, small water containers tied off safely in place to gather whatever liquid might make its way to them.

It was a clever system, one that would allow him to remain in his treehouse without needing to descend in times of inclement weather. Food could be easily stored, as could water, but having a fresh source was just one more way to make his life easier. A nice side effect was the gentle ambient light the gaps allowed while preventing rain from actually getting inside.

Of course, should there be truly bad weather, he could still batten the hatches, so to speak, and button the place up tight. But this was apparently the warm and dry season, so that wasn't going to be an issue.

Margot had roused slowly, a few rays of light teasing her from her slumber. She stretched long, a contented yawn escaping her lips. She rolled to her side and surveyed the treehouse she was calling home for the moment.

It was as she remembered, though it did seem there were more baskets of food than before. The water containers were all topped-off as well. But Braxxos would have done all of that before he rescued her. They'd only stopped in for a brief while after affecting her escape, and she'd been with him ever since.

At least, until he took off the prior night on his mysterious task.

"Where did you go?" she wondered as she prepared a small plate for her breakfast.

He wasn't there to answer, of course, though she doubted he would have answered in full had he been. It seemed wherever he had hurried off to was a secret of his. A secret place for a very secretive man.

It was fascinating how he evaded any detection from outsiders, but having learned more about this area's unusual geological features, it was at least beginning to make more sense. Still, there was more to remaining a secret than just foiling scanners. He also knew how to not be seen, and she'd experienced that skill first-hand. The man knew his way around this wilderness, and if he didn't want to be found he wouldn't be.

Margot took the opportunity to allow herself to truly unplug. To meditate, unwind, and try to get in touch with the strange new things happening to her body. She'd been marked. Bonded to some living ink that now thrived in her skin. Her runes itched anew as she became acutely aware of them.

At least it's getting better .

It was true. The tattoos were healing up exceptionally fast in spite of the discomfort of their application. But Floxxia had told her that strong pigments like this could react strangely, and it seemed that quickly healing skin was just one of the benefits they imbued her with.

She sat quietly, listening to the sounds of nature, the wind and animals, letting her mind and body release whatever tension she was carrying and simply be . It was almost funny. She'd never been great at the whole meditation thing, but that had been back home where she was always just arm's reach away from distractions and intrusions.

Here, however, she truly was alone, and there was no cellphone or doorbell to disturb her. No honking horns or leaf blowers. In this remarkable place, she could actually be at peace.

She didn't know how long she'd been in her Zen state when a sound intruded upon her calm.

The ladder , she realized.

It was Braxxos. He was back.

The door opened and the broad-shouldered alien climbed inside, the sunlight on his skin making his tattoos stand out bright for a moment before he entered. It was a little odd, but they seemed to be almost churning in a way. Something had riled up his runes. And the green tint appeared to have intensified as well.

They weren't like that yesterday, were they? she wondered.

"I hope you slept well," he said, tossing a wrapped bundle of large, waxy leaves into the treehouse ahead of him.

"I did, actually. It's so peaceful here."

"It can be, yes."

"But it did get a bit crazy after you left."

"Oh? How so?" he asked, curiosity burning bright in his surprisingly clear and attentive eyes.

Margot felt her heart flutter at the intensity of his gaze. "Uh, there was something out there last night."

His expression remained neutral, but she caught a whiff, a feeling of his energy tensing, if that was even a thing. Whatever it was, calm as he was on the outside, he was not the same on the inside.

"Tell me, what happened?" he asked in an even tone.

"Some animals were really getting into it. Sounded like one hell of a fight."

"But you were not a part of the situation? Nothing attempted to break in?"

"No. Nothing like that. Why? Does that sort of thing happen around here?"

"It shouldn't, no. But one can never be too careful."

"Amen to that. But what happened to you? You said it would be a day or two, not that I'm complaining."

He grinned, that invisible tension easing up. "I took a shortcut."

She waited for him to say more but he just left it at that.

"Uh, okay. Well, I'm glad you're back. Did you see any of Gromm's people while you were out there?"

"None. Though I did not travel in the direction of the wreck."

He picked up his wrapped parcel and placed it in the food storage area, then headed to a small cabinet built into the far wall and took out a container holding a salve of some sort. He pulled his shirt off slowly. It was dirtier than she remembered it being when he left. But then he had been running, and at night. It was entirely possible he had gone crashing into something in the dark.

The trio of parallel pink lines on his flank he rubbed the salve onto caught her attention.

"Those are scars."

"Clearly."

"Fresh scars."

"Yes."

"But I saw you at the waterfall. Those weren't there yesterday. Those are new."

His smile faltered, but only slightly. "I had a run-in with a Sweessik."

"A what?"

"Sweesik. Nasty beasts, and quite aggressive for no reason whatsoever. It attacked me despite my efforts to avoid it. It managed to clip me in the fight, but I won, obviously."

"Obviously?"

He nodded to the parcel he'd brought in. "Yes. We eat meat tonight. That is, unless your kind is herbivorous, in which case I will, of course, refrain while in your company."

He's actually willing to play vegan for me if I don't eat meat? Jeez, he's got more social grace than most humans I've known.

"Thanks for the offer, but don't worry. I'm an omnivore. Wait, I should qualify that statement. I'm an omnivore on Earth. Here, I don't think it's such a wise idea to make a blanket statement like that. Not until I know what sort of culinary distress I might be getting myself into."

Braxxos chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Then meat it shall be this evening."

She watched as he rubbed the salve into his skin, the muscles beneath rippling with their constrained power. He was lean, but not from malnutrition. This man was a peak athlete, living a life of activity, and his lithe, muscular body showed it. Margot couldn't help but notice the length pressed up against his trousers at this angle, though she did her best not to stare outright. Still, she'd seen him nude, and the memory was burned bright into her mind.

Her attention shifted back to the wound. Or, more accurately, the distinct lack of a wound. All he had was clean, pink scar tissue, well on its way to being fully healed.

She leaned closer, staring. "I'm confused. How is it you've already got scars? I mean, that was from less than a day ago."

"I heal very fast."

"A trait of your people?"

His grin faltered. "No. My runes. Or, more accurately, my pigment."

"Oh, that actually makes sense. Mine's doing kind of the same thing."

"I sincerely doubt it."

"No, really. Look."

She extended her arm, affording him a good look at her exposed arm and the runes and delicate lines connecting them. The skin really was looking good. Not perfect, but close to it, and that was not what was supposed to happen with fresh tattoos from what she'd heard.

"See? These are only a few days old. I mean, sure, they're not some big animal's claw marks. But still, this isn't normal for humans."

"Hmm." He reached out but stopped himself. "May I?"

"Of course. But thanks for asking."

He nodded, then gently touched her skin, gooseflesh erupting all up her arms at the contact. He stroked the rune and connecting line, feeling the flow of power, and Margot could have sworn she felt her pigment react to the pressure. It was a very unusual feeling. And distracting. Not in a bad way necessarily. Just different.

"You possess some incredibly strong pigment. How did you come by this?"

"Yeah, about that. The Skrizzit there was kinda pissed at Gromm."

"That does not explain your pigment."

"Well, he'd apparently acquired some really rare stuff, and as she was the one who knew how to apply it, she had it in her possession for his next set of runes."

"Next set?"

"He's like an addict, constantly adding more from what she said. But anyway, she hates him. I mean hates him. So she made a choice. She didn't want him to have that ink, so she used it on me."

Braxxos actually laughed at that. "You received the pigment of royalty because of a grudge? Oh, that is marvelous! And I must say, I am pleased it is you who bears it rather than him. From what you've said of him, the man is unworthy to say the least."

"You can say that again."

"Did you not hear?—"

"Figure of speech. Never mind."

"Your world, your quirks, they are so unusual. I would very much like to hear more of your home."

"There's really not much to say. At least, not compared to all of this. I mean, you live on an alien world full of all sorts of races, all of them marked with some kind of magical ink."

"It is not magic. It is merely the power of the galaxy, collected and condensed within the living pigment."

"Sounds kind of like magic to me."

"That which we do not yet fully understand often does. But I can assure you, magic it is not. And as for your world. While it may seem normal or even boring to you, it is a place I have never conceived of. Please, tell me of it. I would see your world through the lens of your eyes."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Margot felt a warm flutter of affection in her chest. He wanted to know things. Things about her and her life. Her world. And unlike so many men she'd gone on a first—and last —date with, he was actually listening. Like, really listening, engaged and curious, asking questions with no ulterior motive but to learn more.

It was utterly refreshing, and the two wound up deep in discussion the rest of the day, the conversation not lagging at all even through his cooking of their meat, and well into the night, until, finally, they drifted off to sleep.