Page 15 of The Weaver

“There!” Ahmya called, thrusting her palms out. “Perfect.”

Chittering, Rekosh raised his mandibles in a smile and turned it toward Cole.

“Just keep it still, yousmuhg bassterd,” Cole grumbled as he looped the ropes into place.

Though Rekosh held his arms utterly still, his eyes moved freely, following Cole’s fingers. “Your knot is ungood.”

Cole glared at Rekosh and tugged the knot tighter. “Ungood isn’t a word.”

Rekosh barely suppressed a growl. Why did the humans’ language have to be so unnecessarily complicated, so inconsistent? “I have seen broodlings make knots better than this.”

“Yeah, well you’re more than welcome to?—”

“Hold.” Rekosh shifted the log toward Cole, who grasped it with a blank expression on his face. Rekosh’s hands worked without need for thought, tying off the rope with an elegant but strong knot before untying and resecuring the other rope to match.

When he was done, Rekosh stepped back. Cole did the same, releasing the planter to let it hang. The log swayed gently, almost imperceptibly, in the breeze.

The human male braced his hands on his hips. “Looks pretty damn good.”

Ahmya ran her fingers along the top of the log. “Thank you. I can’t wait to grow something inside it.”

Tilting his head, Rekosh regarded the planter. His knots were the finest part; nothing else about it bore any elegance or refinement. Now that Rekosh was back, Cole’s attempted claim was meaningless. There was no competition here.

“Thank you for helping, Cole,” said Rekosh. “Safe journey to your den.”

“Wow. Did you just tell me to fuck off?” Cole folded his arms over his chest, the corner of his mouth lifting in an amused half smile.

“Notfuck,” Rekosh growled, pointing toward Cole’s den. “Go.”

“Easy guys,” Ahmya said, placing herself between them. “We’re all friends, right?”

Rekosh clenched his jaw and folded his arms across his chest. It took a surprising effort to keep from clacking his mandible fangs at Cole.

Cole brushed his hands off on his pants. “I’m totally cool, Ahmya.”

She looked at Rekosh again. “Are you sure you’re okay? Did something happen?”

Cole’s smile stretched across the rest of his mouth. “Pretty sure it has more to do with whathasn’thappened.”

By that mirthful light in his eyes and the teasing tone of his voice, Cole’s implication was apparent.

Rekosh wasn’t sure whether to be angry that Cole was implying mating again or angry that he was right.

“Lighten up, man.” Cole patted Rekosh’s shoulder.

Rekosh glanced at the human’s hand. “You are right, it is about what has not happened. I have not yet dropped you from Kaldarak. I am curious what would happen.”

Narrowing his eyes, Cole tilted his head. “Human gospuhlat, is what would happen. Look, I’m used to a friendly death threat from Ketahn and Telok every now and then, but it’s not usually your thing. So”—Cole lifted his hands, palms toward Rekosh, and took a step back—“I’ll just leave you to it. We’ll talk when your, uh…balls aren’t so blue.”

“Cole!” Ahmya gasped.

“Oh, that’s right. They’re not blue, they’re red. Same color as your face right now, Ahmya.”

“Oh my God,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands. Her next words were muffled. “Just go, please. Before I push you over the side myself.”

Laughing, Cole walked away, turning after a few steps to say, “Maybe if you two finally figure your shit out, you can throw me over together. It could be your firstdayt.”

Chest rumbling, Rekosh advanced toward Cole. Though the human was retreating, Rekosh’s instincts remained on alert, and they insisted this was a challenge even if he knew at heart that Cole was only teasing. “If I throw him now, will you tell me what his words mean, Ahmya?”

---