“Actually, yes.”
“Wait, are you serious?”
Pointing to the towering violet flowers in the back left corner, I said, “Monkshood.”
“Tershetta,” he said, cocking his head and jabbing a thumb towards the monkshood, “you can’t be growing murderous plants in my garden.”
“Technically, it’s my garden.”
“Regardless, you can’t be fosteringpoisonnear my home.”
“I have another plant you can smoke if you’re bored of whatever you’ve been inhaling and want to feel better.”
He seemed to mull that over, tilting his head back and forth and tugging the corners of his mouth down. “Fine. Give it to me and you can grow your death bush.”
***
Altair went through two burners before I finished warding my garden, all the while, he prodded me with questions.
What are you growing?
Why the sudden urge to be a plant-keeper?
What do you plan to do with all of those?
Who taught you how to ward like that?
Are you hungry?
Are you thirsty?
Do you need a cloak?
What are you plotting, Little Void?
On and on and on he asked despite my lack of response. It was aggravating at best, concerning at worst. The stars seemed to creep closer to the front of my mind with every word, though they remained silent. I wished they’d explain themselves. Explain him. Explainanything.
I finally agreed to go inside after five dramatic huffs, two straight minutes of pacing, and nine instances ofhow much longer?Even then, I still didn’t speak much to him. We walked inside, and I sat on the small, sapphire sofa, where Death pounced into my lap, slapped my stomach, and then promptly passed out. Altair didn’t look at us, instead heading over to his kitchen table and plopping down with a heavy groan, as if he had been the one doing any work at all. Almost delicately, he lifted his long fingers to the bridge of his nose and pinched it, letting his head fall back.
“You are an exhaustingly relentless woman, did you know that?” he asked, his voice husky from the chilly air outside.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve never in all my life met someone who insisted on doingeverything.You were just attacked by stars know who—oh wait,youknow who as well—and yet you’re gardening outside in sub-freezing temperatures. You’re absolutely impossible and borderline stupid. I truly cannot stand you, Tershetta.”
Oh good, we were back to being normal, then. Quietly and quickly, I looked at the small knife I had used against him the day before where it still lay on the counter, and summoned it to me. It flew to my hand, and the moment it touched my palm I hurled it his way. Without even looking, he reached up and snagged it out of the air inches from his face, then threw it right back at me.
While I wasn’t nearly as deft as he was, I did catch it. “There he is.”
“Who?” he asked.
I paused, unsure if the joke would land. He was drunk that night, after all, so he might not have remembered what he said. Still, I repeated his words nearly verbatim, just adding my own touch.
“My hatefullittle snake. I like you best this way.”
His head whipped forward, eyes locking onto mine with an intensity I hadn’t been ready for. My shoulders pulled inward of their own accord, my torso shoving back into the plush pillows of the sofa.
“You don’t like me at all,” he whispered.
