Page 3 of Green-Eyed Monster
“Ijustexplained, they’renotplants, they’re not even related to plants—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, but those are little plant dudes with eyeballs. You can say what you want.”
My mouth was already open, and I was half a second away from launching into a diatribe about how fungi and plants aren’t in the same family—plus, the fact that they were low-fae meant they weren’t even real fungi anyway—until I realized he was teasing me. I clicked my mouth shut and blinked primly at him, making him laugh.
We turned down a tree lined walkway that linked several quaint single-family homes. They weren’t in the best repair, being rentals meant for upperclassmen, but they were much cozier than the communal housing I’d been cramming myself into at the dorms. Hyrak stopped at a white one that was shaded enough to be growing moss on the roof and walked around the side of the house into the back yard.
“Oh, this is perfect!” I exclaimed. I couldn’t have asked for a better environment—outside of the woods where they grew naturally. The trees were tall and stalwart, the lawn practically non-existent, holding too much moisture and not getting enough sun to support grass. Moss and ferns and large-leafed shade-lovers dominated.
He continued carrying me to a heavily shaded back porch, where several pots of the most pathetic looking herbs I’d ever seen before were sitting, wilted and leggy. One was already dead.
Well, you can’t win them all.
Hyrak stooped to set me down, and I shook my head. “No, no, no. I can’t use those death traps,” I said, eyeing his little terracotta pots warily. “Can we try the back corner of the yard over by the fence?”
“Death traps!” Hyrak pretended to be offended, but I could see the humor dancing in his eyes as he lugged me over to some shady ferns. He set me down gently, but I still cringed when I tried to put weight on my ankle. It already felt swollen—I’d need to get ice on it soon.
“Yes, they’re death traps. At least, for those plants, in this environment, and with their current husbandry. What was your plan exactly?” I asked, giggling at his sheepish expression as he rubbed the side of his neck.
“I like to cook,” he said. “Thought it might be nice to have some fresh herbs.”
Handsome, hot, nerdy orc man who liked to cook? My smile felt positively radiant. “I’ll help you figure out how to grow some since they don’t appear to be doing too well.” Or living.
I dropped to my knees and shuffled over to some loamy-looking soil between the massive trees, nestling the little sentinels into the dark earth and tamping their roots down. The smallest three preferred each other’s company, so I packed them in close together, giving them a broad, encouraging smile when they shyly peeked out from under their little caps.
I tried to sooth them. “You’ll be just fine here,” I said quietly. They would, as long as I kept an eye on them. “Take what you need from the trees but try to stay in this general location.” I gave them a little boost of my plant magic, even though I probably should have saved it for my ankle. Their roots had been pretty disturbed, so it only seemed fair.
I sat back and sighed, feeling depleted and tired now that the adrenalin had worn off and I’d transferred some of my energy. It occurred to me that I had filthy hands and my knees were covered in soil now, and the nice man who had been carting me around was wearing a stark white dress shirt.
“All done?” He hauled me up the instant I affirmed that I was, and when I squawked about ruining his shirt, he rolled his eyes and smiled down at me.
“There’s this stuff called laundry detergent, it’s pretty great,” he teased. “I’ll show it to you sometime, but right now I want to get you to the campus walk-in clinic.”
Chapter 3
*Solandis*
It was six weeks since the school campus had been so badly damaged, and in a delightful stroke of luck I’d been literally swept off my feet by Hyrak, my orc in preppy clothing.
Not actuallymyorc, since we weren’t dating, but over the last few weeks I’d found every opportunity to spend time with him. Even though I’d offered to relocate the sentinels, he’d assured me that he was completely content to dedicate his backyard to a “plant nursery for my strange little mushroom children.” Other than a well-kept grill next to his back patio, it didn’t appear that his back yard got much use anyway, so I believed him that it wasn’t a bother.
I totally took advantage of the sentinel’s proximity to Hyrak’s home, though. Those little squirts had gotten way more attention from me in the last six weeks than they had received in the entire time since I’d planted their spores.
The first day I’d visited, I’d also cleaned out his terracotta pots and planted new herbs: oregano, basil, rosemary, thyme, sage, and chives. The front steps were the only sunny spot Hyrak had available, so I moved them all to line the sides of the stairs. He’d been so delighted when he came home that I couldn’t help but be gratified. I’d giggled over how proud he was of their growth the following weeks, and when he remarked on how large and beautiful they looked, I’d decided he didn’t need to know how much of my magic—and attention—was responsible for their robust health.
When he revealed one afternoon that he was an ice elementalist and could freeze or chill things at will, I’d ignored the fact that we had freezers and cold storage in the botany department and brought all my seeds and bulbs to him for cold stratification. No excuse was too flimsy a reason to interact with Hyrak. The days when I visited and he wasn’t home felt strangely empty and disappointing, but I didn’t want to make a nuisance of myself.
If he didn’t like me, I didn’t want to be a bother, but I was pretty sure there was something there. Hyrak was a little hard to read because he was so friendly, and I was pretty sure he was friendly to everyone. His smiles seemed flirty, and there were times I caught him looking at me and his eyes were heated and intense. He was friendly and engaging and welcoming when I came around, but more than that? I wasn’t sure. Maybe I just needed to be clearer in my intentions toward him.
Now it had been two days since I’d seen him. He’d needed to pick up some extra shifts at the little bar he worked at off campus, due to a co-worker coming down sick. No amount of visiting with my little mushroom patch was going to satiate my Hyrak craving if he wasn’t home. I didn’t want to be a weirdo and show up alone at his bar just to be a pest, so I’d talked my childhood friend Alistair into joining me for lunch.
He was a mothman who’d grown up two houses down from mine, and we’d attended every grade together from the time he was a chubby little caterpillar tot through our teen years. It had been sheer luck that we’d both been accepted to the same school, and while we were both in the botany program, he was part of the agricultural program instead of forestry like me.
It was raining as we entered the pub, petrichor and the smell of wet vegetation heavy in the air. Alistair sat hunched in the booth across from me—still somehow managing to tower over me—his delicate wings folded neatly behind him, looking as miserable as a wet cat. The huge, fluffy, gray mantle of fur around his neck that he’dfinallygrown into was barely even damp. He was handsome, and sweet, if a little whiny, but you can only see your childhood friend fall out of trees and pee himself from scary stories so many times before they’re struck forever from your list of datable candidates.
“I don’t understand why I’m here,” Alistair grumbled at me, tapping the long, clawed fingers of one hand on the dark wood of the table in front of himself. Two more hands held a tatty menu, and the fourth spun the little glass candle votive that served as a setting piece around and around on the table.
“What do you mean? You’re here for moral support. I can’t stalk my crush by myself because then I’lllooklike a stalker. Plus, I need you to give me your opinion on if you think he likes me back or not. I can’t get a read on him. And I was hoping to catch up with you since I hadn’t heard your take on that new professor in the agriculture course you’re taking.”
