The mortals had moved on.
Vale attempted to track them, to no avail. They had used a smelling salt that masked their scent, which only increased his suspicions that they had done something to Ivy before presenting her as an offering.
He retreated to his void and stepped out of the silver pool, gritting his fangs. The crack in the ground was already deeper, creeping toward the base of a bone-tree.
Vale scraped his foot claws against the crack and growled. “Whether she meant to or not, the mortal has done this to you. Tous! And you still waste your time communing withher? She will wither and die within two blooms of a bonetithe plant!”
The void did not answer. Not even a gust of wind curled comfortingly around his antlers.
Vale’s growl turned into a roar. Skeletal birds took flight from trees, and animals scurried through the undergrowth, but Vale could not bring himself to care. He had cared for this void—hisvoid—his entire existence. And now it was ignoring him so it could talk to a mere mortal who had been here less than a day.
“Have I displeased you?” he demanded. “She tells me you want me to bejoyous. How can I be joyous when there is no time to rest? No time to do anything but tend to you! I used to have assistants! What would you have me do? Rest and let you rot?”
The crack in the ground swelled, horrible and pale in the dark soil.
Vale growled at it again. Even raging, he was still worried about it. His void was all he had ever known. He did not want it harmed. Especially considering how closely he was tied to it. If the wilderness void died, so did he.
“The pollen is only meant to awaken her desires,” Vale continued. “Not awaken her toyou. What have you done?”
No response. Even when Vale closed his eyes to listen, the noises that came back were not for him: a root-deer munching; a wooden branch scratching against its bony twin; a shocked, disbelieving giggle.
His eyes snapped open. It was the mortal. And she wasnotin his nest.
Vale snarled and started toward the noise. Her laughter grew closer, and he ignored the sweet taste of her still in his mouth. He made sure the pollen would leave her blood, then she could finally start their work. It did not matter how soft her thighs were under his claws, or how prettily she flushed.
He burst through the bushes to find Ivy stretching to pull a mess of strangling rib-thickets from a tree trunk.
“What are you doing?” Vale demanded.
Ivy gasped and whirled. Her braid had been unspooled, her blazing red hair arcing out so brightly it made Vale’s claws clench.
“I’m sorry,” Ivy said, twisting a stray rib-bone in her hands. “I— You— The void guided me! It said I could start working like you want me to. I feel better, I promise.”
Vale eyed her suspiciously. She was still sweating, but that could be from her work. He sniffed the air. No trace of that hot, sweet scent that was still tantalizing the back of his throat.
Vale ignored the stirring under his robes and demanded, “What were you laughing at?”
“Just…” Ivy motioned at the ground. For the first time, Vale noticed the shadowy vine curling gently around her foot. The same way it had curled around the light-motes when they were alive. The same way it used to curl around his antlers, back when it still spoke to him.
Vale ground his fangs together, his tail lashing. He wanted to roar at the mortal, to berate her again for leaving the nest. But deep down, he knew he would not truly be yelling at her. He would be yelling at the void. This mortal might be clumsy, disobedient, and even infuriating—but she meant well.
Even if shehadaccidentally poisoned his void. He could not fault her for the other mortal’s doings.
“We should start at the eastern rib-thickets,” Vale gritted, forcing his tail to still. “They are the worst. These can wait.”
Ivy blinked in surprise. “Oh! Okay.”
After a moment of uncertainty, she threw the broken rib into a pile with the other discarded bones she had been prying off the tree trunk. Then she straightened her dress, blushing as her hands brushed over sodden fabric.
“I’ll go wherever you lead me,” she said with a nervous smile.
Vale held his breath. That hot scent was in the air again, no doubt agitated by her swishing her dress about. He could not afford to get distracted.
“Come,” he said, turning toward the eastern rib-thickets. “We have wasted enough time today.”
“Of course,” Ivy said.
A weak gurgle echoed through the trees. At first, Vale could not identify it. Then he realized what it was: the soft noise of a mortal stomach growling.
