Now that they thought about it, it would explain the strange way Rusty and Gem had been acting since Gem’s hatchday surprise at the Illian Caves. And why Zef had caught them covertly holding hands during the walk back to the car. Not to mention, the walk-in cooler incident, which Gem had played off as nothing more than him assisting a co-worker.
Good gracious, had Gemnot, in fact, been giving Rusty upsies? The pheromones inside the walk-in had been suspiciously sensual, and both Gem and Rusty had been out of breath. From kissing, no doubt!
Oh, and Zef had known it too. They had seen it. But Gem had been so convincing, and they had allowed him to gaslight them. The audacity. The betrayal!
“Do you need me for anything else?” Gem asked as he wiggled out of the dress, carefully avoiding the pins.
“No,” Zef said stiffly, ripping the dress from Gem’s hold.
Gem startled, thin brows arching as he slowly shrugged on his trenchcoat, cinching it around his waist to cover his near-nudity. “Okay, guess I’ll head out, then.”
“Fine,” Zef said, refusing to look at the Araknis at all.
“Well, thank you, Zef. The dress is absolutely perfect,” Gem said hesitantly. “I really love it.”
The flattery thawed their irritation somewhat. “You are welcome. It was my pleasure.”
With a tentative smile, Gem brushed a knuckle over the back of their hand. They almost rebuffed his farewell, but they did not truly want to hurt his feelings. Gemae was so sensitive, and they did not like it when he was sad.
So they shuffled over a step so their shoulder brushed Gem’s arm. “See you at work.”
The Araknis grinned, showing off his small fangs. “See you at work.”
He flitted around the room, saying his goodbyes, then slipped on his shoes. With a wave and several air kisses, Gem left, and Zef carefully fitted the dress back on the mannequin.
“I need to be at the Dryad nursery in an hour, so I should also start cleaning up,” Willow said as she shoved her yarn back into her bag.
Bryce lowered his textbook instantly. “Oh, I read about that. The Pentagram has the second-largest nursery in the dimension, right? After the Sacred Grove, of course.”
Willow’s face brightened. “You know about the Sacred Grove?”
“I mean, I read about it in a book written by a demon—I mean, Hellian,” Bryce corrected sheepishly. “So I assumed it was accurate.”
“It is. The Sacred Grove is where our species originated, the location where the first Dryad was created by Mother Dynu.” Willow returned herscissors and crochet hooks to the foldable holder. “At least, so our ancient texts say.”
Leaning forward, Bryce propped his arms on his knees. “Is that your deity?”
“I suppose. She is… Mother Nature, as you humans might say. We do not worship Her in the sense of singing hymns or following holy rules, but we do respect Her and Her creations. We honor nature by taking care of the land we have been given, by treating others and ourselves with kindness and respect, by not over-consuming our resources.
“Some Dryads may put more stock in our faith, burning offerings and petitioning fortune and plenty through prayer,” Willow expounded as she buttoned her canvas bag closed, “but I admit, I do not, though I do adhere to some traditions.”
“Like the Dryad pilgrimage to the Sacred Grove?” Bryce asked.
Willow’s smile brightened even more. “Yes, it is our most revered tradition. I have yet to complete mine, but I hope to embark in a year or so. You are very knowledgeable, Bryce.”
Another flush darkened Bryce’s cheek under his beard. “Oh, I just like reading, I guess.”
“I see why you and Zef get along,” she said, and Bryce’s gaze darted to Zef’s.
They made eye contact, and Zef resisted the urge to duck their head for reasons they could not name. Instead, they offered Bryce a small smile, one he returned with gusto.
“Yeah, I guess we do. Right, roomie?” He tossed the cap of his highlighter at them, but they caught it with their lower left hand before it could bounce off their shoulder.
“If you say so,” they said haughtily, but the wriggle of their antennas gave them away.
Laughing boisterously, Bryce dodged the highlighter cap that they threw back at him. “Okay, fine. Be that way, then.”
With a quiet giggle, Willow shot Zef a look they could not interpret. “Like I said, no wonder you get along.”
