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“Oh, lots of things. Lots of things live in forests. Also, I find it interesting that you gave my husband permission to take me away on a trip.”
At this, his eyes snap up, though not to me, just straight ahead. He doesn’t move as he thinks about how to respond. I bet he hoped I wouldn’t bring this up at all. He probably figured I’d never find out about my arranged vacation. Now that he is caught off guard, he doesn’t know what to say.
He glances my way and finds me looking at him, head cocked to the side, eyebrows raised. I’m not angry per se, but I’m obviously not happy. I cross my arms, trying to act casual but also intimidating, and he starts to fidget under my gaze. This could almost be considered fun.
Finally, he clears his throat and squares his shoulders. “Look, Miranda, Jake came to me. I never told him he had to clear stuff like that with me. Iknewyou’d be pissed.”
My brow furrows. “And yet you stillgavehim permission? Honored his request?”
“What was I supposed to say?” His voice cracks a little in his exasperation. “I was trying to be supportive of your stupid husband!”
There is silence for a beat as my brows shoot up, and then for a beat more. He quickly realizes what he blurted out and at least has the courtesy to close his eyes in shame.
“My…stupidhusband? You think Jake is stupid? What is with you two? Why is it always a pissing match between you?”
He looks at me again, the blue of his eyes set on fire. This may be the most worked up I have ever seen him. His arms gesture wildly as he attempts to explain himself. “Maybe Jake isn’t stupid, but heisirritating. In many ways. But for some unknown reason, you love him, and I want to supportyou, so here we are.”
We look into each other’s eyes from across the library for what feels like hours but is probably more like five seconds. My eyes narrow. My mouth is suddenly dry. Ultimately, I decide to act like a grownup and put this all behind me. When I speak, my tone is steady, too steady, behind my forced smile. “Well, thanks, I guess. For giving us permission to go away.” But I still roll my eyes while I say it.
Outwardly, I appear to go back to my research, but internally I toss around the words we just exchanged until I snap my head up again. “You really don’t think Jake is good enough for me, do you?”
A silent glare is all that I get back.
I try to go back to researching in earnest, but now too much tension fills the room for me to be able to focus. I snap my book shut, making George jump. “I say we go out, and you show me what has you worried in your woods. I can’t find jack shit based on what you told me. Maybe I’ll have some kind of Guardian epiphany if I see it all firsthand.” I put the book on the stack of other books I’ve finished leafing through and glare impatiently at him where he stands, the book still open before him on the counter. “Well? You coming?” My foot is tapping, and my tone is sharper than I intend.
“Umm, yeah.” He sounds hesitant but follows behind me as I walk with a pressing urgency, though not a run, to the front door.
We exit the mansion into the bright mid-day sun, and I realize I have no idea where to go on his expansive grounds. I stop abruptly with my hands on my hips and ask without looking at him, “So where to?”
He moves in front of me. “It will be easiest if you just follow me.” And off we trudge into the trees.
Ten minutes later, we’ve lost sight of his house, which is no easy feat given its size, as we trek through the woods surrounding it. We hike in silence, aside from my grunts and gasps as I stumble and begin to regret that I didn’t bring a bottle of water along. The ground has a thick coating of brown leaves in various stages of decay, returning to their literal roots and giving back to the earth they’ve hidden beneath them.
I smack a mosquito that’s having my arm for lunch and wipe the blood smear onto my gi. “Yuck. I really should have used some bug spray.” I feel my pulse pick up. Really? Bug spray is a fucking trigger? I instinctively touch the bangle wrapped around my wrist. “I see trees, stones on the ground, George, leaves, those boulders. Now, touch? Oh, my bracelet, my shirt, tree bark, my hair. Hear…leaves crunching, my heart beating, bird chirping. Smell, George’s excessive cologne and—” Ew. Whatisthat smell? Fully grounded even though I didn’t finish the exercise, I open my eyes.
There’s a patch of ground directly in front of us, about as large as a king size bed, completely devoid of trees and flora. Instead of grass and leaves, the slimy black ground smells like the salad mix I always buy and never eat before it all turns into mush in the bag at the back of my fridge. Behind the nasty clearing is a freestanding row of five of the largest boulders I have ever seen, each with a four-foot gap in between them.
Six feet behind the boulders, the ground slopes upward, creating a rocky hill that tapers off a little above my head before receding into the rest of the woods. Ferns and other plants grow between smaller rocks and larger trees.
“See where the plants were burned?” he says, holding his nose with one hand and pointing to the decimated plant matter at our feet with the other.
But his nose is no match for that of woman who has super-smelling abilities. “Those weren’t burned. They’ve rotted. I can smell the bacteria.”
He looks at me doubtfully, one eyebrow cocked. “You can smell bacteria? How can you smell bacteria? Is that one of your abilities? I’ve never heard of a Guardian having super-smell before.”
“Well, as you’ve said, there’s never been a mom Guardian before. My sense of smell got stronger with each pregnancy.” I look at him, but he is still confused. I secretly relish when I have to momsplain something to him though, so I remain patient, and only a little condescending. “During pregnancy, a mom’s sense of smell is heightened to protect the mom and baby. In some cases, it sticks around after the baby is born. I’m one of those cases. I always said it was my superpower. You know, before I found out that I haveactualsuperpowers.”
He still isn’t sure he believes me but decides to give me the benefit of the doubt. “So, we have our own personal K-9 unit?” He smiles playfully, and when I shoot him a glare, he lets out a boyish laugh. “That’s pretty awesome, actually. So, what do the rotted plants mean?”
I look back and forth along the rocky hill in the distance. Something pops into my mind from what I read back in the library. “Any chance there are caves somewhere along that hill?”
He studies the wall himself, from our distance, “Um, maybe cave-like structures. I don’t think there’s space for extensive caves. You in the mood for some spelunking…or…?”
“I think you have a troll problem. We won’t find them in the daylight though. They’d turn to stone. We should come back after the sun goes down.” I look up at the sky. We have some time to kill.
He responds with a shrug. “What’s a few more hours, I guess. But I think I’d have noticed some giant oafs on my property. Shall we?” George tilts his head and holds out his hand toward the direction we came from, asking me to follow. “Why do you think it’s trolls?”
I take a long slow breath, trying to force myself not to hyperventilate as I hike and talk at the same time. This definitely is a different kind of exercise than training in the dojo. “Well, they rot food with their breath. It makes sense that they’d rot vegetation in the forest also.”
