Page 6 of Inceptive (Ingenious #3)

6

WILL

T wo weeks had passed since Belle had joined her flock. This afternoon, the rain lightened, and patches of sunshine lifted the gloomy gray. Smoke curled from vents of distant caves. The miles of cane were as tall as the walkway, and on the leafy tops, nodules swelled with sap.

The water had risen knee-high, its glassy surface deceptive. A treacherous current flowed that would knock a man off his feet and rip his grip from around a stilt. Zach had warned Will to wear a belt float and rope whenever he stepped onto the open walkway away from the porch. Unpredictable gusts were the reason that visiting other farmers to borrow food or gossip risked one’s life. One minute there was sunshine, and the next minute, a blinding rain brought wind that batted a man as if he were a dust mote.

During a break in the rain, Will stood on the porch, wishing he could visit other farmers and sing for his supper. He pulled up a wire fish trap, hoping he’d caught something, even a snake. Nothing. Looked like plain noodles and greens for supper again, served with a side of nutrient gravy.

Two booms echoed over the basin. Zach had been baiting a fish trap behind the cabin and hurried beside Will to scan the sky for the direction of the smoke. His face grim, he said, “Means two men are missing. The red smoke’s hovering over their farms. Taxes provide every farmer with rockets. Sirens will sound if they’re found. What’s puzzling is that there’s no field work now to send servants away from their dwellings. I don’t know what’s happened, but stay inside.”

“Two servants could have sneaked away for sex if their owners forbade it.”

“Farmers don’t punish sex between servants, as long as it doesn’t interfere with work.”

Will was so not going anywhere outside. Glancing down as he walked to the door, he noticed wet x-shaped footprints on the porch leading to the bench, where a loaf of squished bread and links of sausages had appeared. He yelled, and Zach charged over with a spear held overhead.

Zach saw the footprints and food. “Belle?”

Belle poked her head from beneath the bench. “Steal food for my Will and come back.” She slunk over to Will and rubbed her crest against his leg. She looked bedraggled and wet and sad. “Love my Will.”

He knelt and smoothed her feathers. “Oh, how I’ve missed you. Did you find home?”

She fanned her tail feathers, then snapped them together. “Home mean.”

Will found bites on the back of her neck. “Her flock must have rejected her because she smelled foreign.”

Zach squatted beside him. “Holy fuck. Those are mating bites. A male mounted her.”

“Mean bites,” Belle whimpered. “I fly away. Hide. Bring food to my Will. Take me back, pleasssse…”

He’d never seen her so miserable, even after the spitting frog. “My pretty bird always has a home with me,” he cooed. “Zach, I need the medical kit to clean these bites.”

“Mating no fun. Mean male.”

Belle squawked when Zach checked her rear and confirmed a sticky plug. A male had bred her and defended the paternity of her future eggs.

“If that raping cock comes flying around here for you, I promise I will catch him, I will pluck him, and I will roast him,” Will said in a vow.

Inside the cabin, Will dabbed salve on the bites. “Belle, are you ready to be a mama bird?”

She blinked her lashes. “Want my Will to be papa bird. Not mean male.”

Zach guffawed as Will face-palmed.

The truth dawned.

Belle had mated in the wild. Hungry babies were on the way.

Will endured Zach’s teasing as they padded Belle’s cage with leaves and clean rags.

They’d wasted their time.

While they were focused on preparing a nest in the cage using shavings from Zach’s whittling, Belle had decided to claim the loft. Maternal instincts transformed her from a pathetic victim pleading for a home into a territorial tyrant when they tried to coax her from the loft into the cage. She allowed Will to remove his belongings, then closed the curtains and squawked at anyone peeking inside.

Zach dribbled sap into a saucer of water. This was the high-quality thick sap reserved for farmers. “Are you thirsty, Belle?”

She flew to the table, dipped her beak in the saucer of sweetened water, and tossed her head back to swallow. Her eyes widened as she trilled her delight for the treat. She hopped on Zach’s shoulder and nibbled his hair with her first show of affection toward him.

Will pouted. “Uh-oh. I think Belle loves Zach more than her Will.”

“Noooooo! Love my Will.” Her foot scooted the saucer over to Will. “I share.”

Will declined, insisting mama birds needed special sap.

“I steal food for us tomorrow. We eat good.”

“No stealing,” Zach warned. “The farmers are looking for two missing people. They will have set traps and posted archers at cave entrances.”

She tilted her head at him. “Not stupid. I steal outside basin. Better food in town and old farms on hills.”

“Stealing is wrong,” Will added, thinking of farmers low on food supplies.

“There’s right stealing and wrong stealing,” Zach argued. “The town and farms outside the basin have plenty of food. Steal as much as you can carry, Belle. They’ll blame it on the neighbor’s cat.”

“Meooow.”

“That’s my girl!” Zach refilled her saucer.

“Don’t encourage her, Zach. Flying those miles will take its toll on the health of her eggs.”

“No eggs yet.” Belle batted her lashes at Will.

Zach snickered. “When they arrive, Papa Will can sit on the eggs while you’re off stealing.”

Will dipped his thumb and forefinger into the sap saucer and flicked the drops at Zach’s nose. “Dumb ass.”

“Dumb ass, dumb ass, dumb ass—” Belle taunted.

Before Zach chased her with the paddle, Will called out, “Hey, Belle, sing us some dancing tunes.”

Belle trilled scales, then warbled a cheerful tune for Will to show off more of his high kicks, slides, and hip swivels that had earned tips.

Zach had never danced a step in his life until Will grabbed his hands and taught him how to two-step, spin, and dip. It was totally graceless, with Will in danger of his arms being pulled out of their sockets, but Zach wore a huge smile, and his eyes crinkled at their silliness.

The warbling changed to a slow melody. Will leaned in and wrapped his arms around Zach’s neck. After a moment’s hesitation, Zach tightened his hands around Will’s waist, and they swayed. Will looked up and found Zach staring intently at his face.

Zach drew him closer. “If I’d had coins, I’d have thrown handfuls on the stage for a dance.”

“With a high-stepping old crone?”

“I’d have tugged the hat over your face. The rest of you was spry.”

“For a purse filled with rich dirt, I might’ve invited you to my room and dimmed the lantern.” With each drawn breath, their bodies moved closer. Zach’s thumbs met around Will’s waist. Will’s cheek rested on a muscled chest.

Zach swallowed. “Did men ever?—”

“They tried. You saw what happened when I said no. And I always said no. The expression on your face when you saw I was a man—priceless.”

The singing stopped as Belle flew to the saucer to drink. Will’s hands slid down Zach’s arms, lingering on the biceps. Zach’s hands squeezed his waist, then he stepped back, breathing hard.

Will caught Belle watching them like an approving chaperone, with eyes that appeared to be dark gold instead of orange.

“Where was home, Belle?” Will asked softly.

“Here.” She flew to the loft and hissed when Will climbed the ladder to question her further. “Shoo. Nest is home.”

“You can have the loft, but give me the mattress.”

She pecked his hand when he tugged the edge. “All mine. Keep out.”

“You shared my bed for months—give me the mattress.”

“Mine.”

“Bad bird. Give me the mattress, or I’ll dump your smoochy lips off the porch.”

She stared down her beak at him. She must have seen he meant to carry out the threat. Her eyes flicked to Zach standing beside the ladder. “I bring fishies for breakfast.”

“Fresh fish from the river?” Zach smacked his lips and plucked Will off the ladder. “Her mattress. I’ll hook a hammock on the rafter for you.”

Will grumbled as they unrolled a hammock. “She’s acting weird, and her eyes have changed color.”

“Mating has awakened new instincts. As much as she’s grateful to you and loves you—her chicks come first.”

“How the heck do I climb into this hammock.” Will groaned from the floor where he’d fallen off for the third time with his legs tangled in the swinging hammock.

Zach untwisted the hammock and helped him stand. “Try again. Never climb in knee first like that. Sit in the middle, then swing your legs in and lay your head down at the same time.”

Will rubbed his bruised ass. “Just pick me up and place me in it.”

“If you need to piss in the middle of the night, you’ll have to learn how to get in and out by yourself because I sleep like a rock unless someone steps on my belly.”

Will backed up to the hammock and eased his ass down in the middle. His weight sagged the hammock, and he waited until he felt balanced. Then, in a smooth motion, he swung his legs up and laid his head back. “Aha. Got it!” He folded his arms beneath his head.

The gentle swaying triggered motion sickness.

Zach held the hammock steady until the dry heaves ceased. “A hammock sleeps better than a floor mat once you get accustomed.”

Will moaned. “You take the hammock. I’ll sleep on the mat.”

“I’m too tall, and the bolts won’t hold my weight.”

“Then I’ll sleep beside you.”

“We can’t.”

“We already did.”

“On a mattress and mat that were spaced respectably apart. Belle has the mattress. I only have one mat.”

“You said you and Riley slept together for warmth.”

“Riley snores. Likes women. We’re cousins. You’re different. You like men.”

“I appreciate a fine physique, but I don’t do hairy. You’d need to wear a sack over your head before I’d consider jumping your bones.”

Stung, Zach snapped, “I don’t do men, no matter how pretty.”

“This is stupid. All I need is a mattress to keep you respectable.” Will climbed the ladder, in no mood for Belle’s broodiness. He jerked the curtain open. Belle slept in the middle of a nest of blankets atop the mattress. She’d shredded a down quilt and lined the nest with feathers coated in mucus, and… was that the sticky mating plug on the rim?

“Mine.” She lifted her head.

“Yours,” he said, adding to himself, you ungrateful, bitchy bird . To Zach, he fumed, “Roll up the hammock and place it between us. We’re sharing the mat, or I cook no fishies for you. Got that?”

Zach answered with a small nod.

“And when’s the last time you bathed?”

“I’ve splashed my face and beard every night.”

“Tonight, you take an all-over-the-body bath like I do, using hot water and soap in the basin by the reservoir.”