Maverick dommer's Arc

Chapter 6 of 8

Three days after the falls, the eldest elder came to Maverick's grove. The old Mycelonite walked between the glowing mushroom caps and stopped at the tall fungus that served as his home. "You have one turn of the moon," the elder said. "Bear an heir by then, or the bond ends." Then it turned and left. Maverick stood in the doorway, four fists clenched, and had no idea how a man and a womb-less mate could make a child. Mylonin found him among the herb rows. Its braided vine hair hung limp, and its teal skin had gone dull. "My body is changing," it whispered. It pressed a hand to its flat stomach. "The roots told me a way. My people can shift, slowly, when the bond is deep. But it takes strength, and it hurts. I will be weak for many days." Maverick knelt at once, all four hands open. "Then I will guard you while you change," he said. "You gave me your trust at the falls. I give you my arms now." Mylonin lay down inside the mushroom cottage. Its breath came shallow. Its skin cooled, then flushed, then cooled again. Maverick carried water from the well and pressed cool cloths to its brow. He tore herbs from his garden rows and crushed them into a paste for its cracked lips. For two days Mylonin thrashed and moaned. Its hips widened. Its stomach swelled inward and hollowed to hold new hidden flesh. On the second night, a fever gripped it hard. Mylonin's vines went brown at the tips. "I cannot," it gasped. "The change is too much. I am splitting apart." Its whole body shook. Maverick gathered Mylonin against his chest, two arms cradling its back, two holding its cold hands. "You will not split," he said. "Feel me. I am solid. Match my breath." He breathed slow and deep. He hummed low against its hair. He did not sleep. He held the trembling body through the dark while the glowing caps outside pulsed soft blue. By dawn the shaking stopped. Mylonin lay still and warm. Its skin had turned a rich, healthy teal. Its hips had settled broad and full. It opened its eyes and touched its own new belly with wonder. "It worked," it breathed. "The roots sing again. I have a womb now, Maverick. A place for your seed." Maverick let out a long breath and pulled Mylonin close. He had built a shelter. He had survived the falls. Now he had sheltered his mate through the change that made an heir possible. But as Mylonin smiled up at him, he saw how thin it had grown, how much the shift had drained. The body was ready. The mate was not yet strong. And the moon was already climbing toward the elder's deadline.