Page 10 of Mischief Maker
I was so careless, so thoughtless. I shouldn’t be punishing Kireth for my mistake. He is a troublemaker, and I had expected it. I knew the stories, the legends my mother and father passed down to me.
It was my own fault.
The next morning, I’m up early to remove the nails. They come out bent and misshapen, but that’s better than nothing. I’ll need these nails to fix the fences, and iron isn’t cheap.
I cover the remaining holes with old boards so the outside air can’t get in and then secure them in place. I need to haul water for us and the animals before I can begin with my other chores.
“Do you need help?” a voice calls out to me as I carry a bucket back from the well. Kireth bounds into view, much like a young deer. He gleams in the morning light, the shape of his strong chest and thick, lean thighs outlined in bright gold.
“No,” I say quickly. I will not waste a task on something as small as bringing in a bucket of water. “Tend the crops today. That is all I want from you.” Then I correct myself. “No, wait. Please, water them lightly and don’t drown the new seeds.” They were the last of what I had, and I can’t replace them.
For a moment, Kireth looks disappointed, but then he nods his head and draws a tally in the air. “Ninety-six.” He skips away, though his back and shoulders are stiff.
I should not have made him find his own place to sleep last night. I was just... angry. Angry, mostly at myself, for being so thoughtless with my task.
What had I thought? That an immortal would be on my side? He is here only because he’s bound to be, chained by whatever agreement he signed when he was created.
I wonder briefly how gods are born. Did he come from another one, even greater and older? Who tied him to the whims and desires of mortals?
A little too late, I hope that I have been specific enough today with my request. I can’t afford for Kireth to teach me any more lessons.
I take care of the livestock myself, milking the cows and gathering all the eggs, though not nearly as efficiently or productively as Kireth had. I sprinkle feed and fill troughs. Still, knowing I do not have to do the watering myself makes me feel looser, freer, than I think I’ve felt in months. Perhaps there will still be time at the end of the day to do some more repairs on the house. There’s an old tiller I’ve been meaning to fix, either to sell or to use. It does me no good sitting around, but I’ve never had time.
By afternoon, Kireth is finished with his task. He lounges around while I finish my work, simply staring at me. It’s unsettling, but eventually I forget about him as I muck out the livestock pen.
“You have ninety-six tasks left,” he calls out. “That’s a lot, isn’t it? Hmm?”
Propping myself against the rake, I wipe the sweat from my forehead. “What else can you do? I’m not going to waste tasks on mucking stalls.”
He tilts his head. “Are you asking me to come up with my own job?”
As if I would be so foolish now as to give him that sort of liberty.
“No, I’m asking what else you’re capable of doing.” I have a ridiculous question, but what harm is there in asking? He is a god, after all. I remember how he simply appeared the other morning in a puff of smoke. “Can you do... special things? You know, um, magic?”
His widening smile is like the sun’s warm rays after a harsh winter. His teeth are all perfectly white and straight, his tongue bright pink as he licks it over them, and that spade tail is going wild behind him.
“Yes,” he says, hopping to his feet. He walks toward me with a kind of animal grace, precise and nimble. “I certainly can do magic.”
Suddenly he’s much closer to me than I expected him to be. When he leans down, a little bird in my chest flutters its wings, faster and faster until his nose stops mere inches from mine. His bright red eyes burrow through my skin to the vulnerable flesh underneath.
“And what would you like me to do with my powers?” he asks in a purr.
My throat closes, preventing any words from coming out. This near to Kireth, I can smell him, and it is a marvelous and remarkable smell that reminds me of woods, of a hunter spearing his prey, of a horse’s soft nose. But it also contains a flavor even stranger than those familiar, earthly things. The scent stirs a small, forgotten nest in me, in a place I’ve only felt awakened a handful of times. Those few times, I ducked a hand under my blankets and tended to my own needs.
“Hmm?” When I still haven’t spoken, Kireth leans even farther forward, so his face glides past mine. His mouth pauses at my ear. “Can’t take your eyes off me, can you?”
I jerk back. “That’s not what I was doing!” I put a good few feet of space between us, turning my head to hide the hot pressure building behind my cheeks. “I’m just trying to think of what to ask for.”
“Take your time.” He doesn’t seem put off in the least.
My hands are trembling when I finally get myself back into sorts. What was that? It felt like all my senses had heightened, instantly aware of his body, of his every movement. That quiet, building tickle low in my belly unnerves me.
Right, a task. Something I can use to test the god’s powers.
“Can you make the crops grow faster?” I ask at last. I’ve lost so much valuable time this season, it will be sheer good luck if I can harvest it before the frosts.
Kireth smiles wickedly. But there’s something in his eyes that’s not so coarse, not so detached as he pretends.
