Chapter 11: With An Apple
#11 of The Mating Season 5
Chapter 11: With An Apple
Given Nontikmah's weakened condition, they set up camp that night within the shadow of the scared stones. Keeno stroked up a low fire, then he and Kel kept watch as Aliona and Kilyan worked to get food into Nontikmah's pitiful frame. Kilyan felt a lump rise in his throat just looking at the witch: he could see her ribs. He sat with his back against the stone and Nontikmah's back against his chest as Aliona tenderly fed the witch a portion of that night's soup. Nontikmah rasped and struggled weakly to swallow it down, and the others knew it would be several minutes before she could relate her tale. Her fifteen tails lay limp under her slender legs like fluffy white pillows, twitching every now and then at their tips as Nontikmah struggled to swallow.
Kilyan closed his eyes, hating the sight of an old friend - and such a sweet and lonely one as she - on the brink of what appeared to be death. But Nontikmah assured Kilyan with a weak laugh that an immortal could go several days without eating. Even weeks if they had to.
Kilyan froze to hear this. "Then . . . how long have you been traveling!"
"Months," Nontikmah admitted, to everyone's shock. "I thought something had happened to Sylas. You see . . . we foxes are not altogether invincible . . ."
Kilyan held back a smile: he had witnessed Nontikmah's pain himself when Avi slapped her.
"Shush, don't speak just now," Aliona scolded when Nontikmah's breasts heaved. "Just swallow this down and then rest a little. One of the boys will have to carry you: we can't stay here long. It's dangerous in the wastelands."
"Kilyan will carry me," Nontikmah said, as if the choice were an obvious one.
"We're just friends, Mom!" Kilyan assured his mother when she smiled.
Aliona only lifted her eyebrows as she fed Nontikmah another spoonful. "Right . . ." she teased.
The others were waiting around, feeling awkward at the blaring sexual tension between Kilyan and the vixen. It was more than obvious that Kilyan and Nontikmah had once slept together. This was made clear in the subconscious way Nontikmah moved and talked around Kilyan: her tails brushed him lovingly, the gentle touch of her paw on his arm, a doting look in her eye, and the silk in her voice whenever she spoke to him. It was almost as if she were under Kilyan's spell. Except Kilyan was so awkward. Kilyan wanted nothing more than to hide the past, but in attempting to do so, he was making it more obvious: jerking his paw away from Nontikmah's touch, averting his gaze, squirming when her tail touched him, as if he was all too familiar with her touch and what parts of him it could make stand.
Wynn deeply resented Nontikmah. In fact, deep down she knew she always had. The sight of her little mother accosting the witch when she was a child had given her nothing but the purest joy. For she had hated the way Nontikmah could so effortlessly catch the attentions of both Inden and her father. She hated the power Nontikmah seemed to have over them, hated that Nontikmah had requested Kilyan's flesh in exchange for her help - as if her father were nothing more than a piece of meat! But after that memorable night at the witch's hut, Nontikmah had changed toward Kilyan. There was something else in her eyes when she looked at him. Something beyond lust. Something that might have been love. And if Kilyan could not see it, Wynn and Avi could. Avi had always been such a spitfire when it came to protecting the ones she loved. It was something Wynn tried to emulate everyday: she could bully her loved ones, but woe to the wolf who tried it! But it seemed that once Nontikmah fell in love with Kilyan, Avi was ready and willing to bury the hatchet! Wynn couldn't believe it. Why did that creature's doting make what she'd done okay? And her father had been - and still was -- so kind to Nontikmah, so affectionate! It made Wynn sick then . . . and it still made her sick now. She sat against a stone pillar some distance from the others, her arms folded, her pretty face dark as the green eyes remained fixed in utter contempt on the weak and gasping witch.
Standing a little way from Kel and Keeno, Inden clutched his spear and watched Wynn. A tremendous amount of guilt had been choking him all night. Yes, it was true that seeing Sylas kissing Wynn had sent him into a fury, and as a result, he had slept with Wynn in her father's house. But . . . it was also true that Inden had come there with the intention of making love to Wynn in the first place. That last part he had failed to tell Kilyan. He just wanted so badly for things to go back to the way they were! And hearing the somewhat twisted version of the events from Inden, Kilyan had believed him and had started talking about what possibilities life could hold for Inden in the jungle were he to stay there with Wynn. Inden would readily be under Avi's protection should any of the shemales object, and this whole thing with Sylas would blow over, Inden would see. Hearing Kilyan's words, Inden's heart had turned back-flips. And he vowed to himself that come hell or high water, he and Wynn were going to be married and have their happily ever after, damn it.
But could he really go through with all of it? He hated himself for lying to Kilyan, for betraying him, for everything that had happened. Sometimes he told himself that if he had just given himself to Wynn in the fields, then none of this would have happened. Wynn would've been happy in the summer village because she would have had Inden to satisfy her sexual needs, and while they made love in secret, they would have kept up appearances in public that they were as yet still very virginal. And Kilyan would have been happy and Sylas would never have come and everyone would have been happy . . . right?
No. Inden knew it wasn't that easy. Because he knew he could never give to Wynn the kind of wild passion that she was looking for. The sexual acts that Wynn often described shocked and horrified Inden, who could only think of his father raping a replacement mother's corpse every year in front of him. No, he could never do such things, he told her. And she would look at him in frustration. Why? She demanded this of him all the time. "Why, Inden? I'm not Rwanda's corpse! Is that what you see when you touch me!" Her words stung like a blow. So insensitive. But she was frustrated and at her wit's end. She grabbed his face and asked again in a more sympathetic tone, "Is that who you see when you touch me?" Inden had closed his eyes. He didn't know. He saw a lot of faces, not just Rwanda's. Flashes of the nightmare came and went. He told Wynn he was happy to make love to her, but not in the wild and frenzied way that she was asking. How unhappy those green eyes when he spoke the words then. That day was the first time Inden realized: he was losing Wynn.
Present-day Inden squeezed his fist on his spear and thought about taking the opportunity to go over to Wynn and apologize. Wynn didn't like apologizes. Apologizes, she always said, did nothing to remove the pain once it had been given. But Inden suddenly didn't care. He had nothing else to offer her. Maybe . . . maybe that was the problem.
Before Inden could take a step, however, Nontikmah announced that she now felt strong enough to explain. Inden glanced at Wynn as if he might approach her anyway, but as Wynn was drawing near to the vixen, he decided to follow suit. Kel and Keeno drew near as well, but remained alert and kept scanning the wastelands for strangers as they listened.
Nontikmah looked so weak and frail in Kilyan's arms, but given the increased number of her tails, they all knew a great power thrived within her little frame. She was such a small thing, her muzzle short, her eyes strangely large, her ears too large as well. Wynn looked at Nontikmah and mused that the look suited the son but not the mother.
"It began," said Nontikmah, smiling at them all, "with an apple."