Light from Aphelion 2 - Tears of Winter

by Martine Carlsson

  Kilda tried to understand. “You wanted to adopt a sick child?”

  “Not necessarily sick but…”

  “But you can’t,” Kilda said with disbelief. “You are not a woman. You are not even married to one. Besides, those children belong to their relatives or to the Church.”

  “I am kind,” Selen insisted. “Can’t I be a good parent?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Small children need a woman, a mother. It’s not up to a man to take care of them.” Kilda didn’t understand why Selen held to such peculiar conception. She didn’t want to hurt him and tried other words. “If you were normally married…”

  “I don’t want to marry anyone.” Selen lowered his head. “I would be unable to perform my marital duties,” he added, ill at ease.

  “Anyone? So, what kind of queen are you? Is your relation not some sort of twisted marriage?”

  “It’s a brotherhood bond. We are friends. Queen is only a title. It’s absurd to compare it with marriage. Marriage has nothing to do with love.”

  A stone fell behind them. Kilda and Selen turned around. Louis stood by one of the blocks. His mouth gaped with utter shock. Louis and Selen exchanged looks of dismay, but none uttered a word. In view of Louis’s disappointment, it was blatant to Kilda that Selen had faulted. Louis was the first to move and strode back inside the gatehouse. Wishing to comfort Selen, Kilda laid a hand gently on his shoulder.

  Selen rose with a start and turned. “Don’t touch me! Ever!”

  She watched him run in the opposite direction and disappear in a doorway. Raising her head, she stared at the sky with anger. How cruel are you?

  38

  The carcass stank. Lissandro dragged his bundle of clothes closer to him under the muskox. His companions still stood on the ridge. He could hear them argue. His smell must be everywhere, and he hoped the dog’s growl would not break into barks.

  His transformation had drained an extraordinary quantity of energy from his body. Once on the other side of the mountain, he had felt ravenous. Unwilling to kill the kind animal, he had sent the dog to their friends, as well as the food which they might need more than him. What Lissandro had needed was blood, a huge amount of it. It was a miracle that this wasteland was populated by muskoxen. Not only did it mean a way out somewhere, but also food for his companions should they be reduced to that extremity. To hunt a muskox in his nightmarish shape was easy. When he had drunk, and probably eaten too, he had felt a comforting slumber sweep over him. It had been the occasion to return to his human shape.

  His condition sickened him. For more than five years, he had been rid of it and had lived a normal life. When he had felt it take possession of his body again, he had thought his powers might be useful. Eventually, it had done more harm than good. For some time, banished from his friends’ side, he had wandered under the firs like a wretched soul. Still, he had never pondered returning to the Frozen Mountains. He had no brighter future there than here. Though his friends didn’t want of him anymore, Lissandro could at least make sure that they succeeded in their mission. He owed them that.

  The voices reduced. His companions went away. Lissandro hauled himself from under the carcass. His body was covered in blood and animal excreta. He rubbed himself with snow until he was clean enough to dress again. After he had climbed out of the crevasse, he followed the footsteps eastward. The occasional dog barks gave him an idea of the distance between them. When the trail turned towards the ice wall, he knew they had found the way out. He looked up. The arch was barely visible between the rocks. Lissandro flickered a smile. What wouldn’t those brains achieve if they could compose with their natures?

  Climbing the slope alone took him a while. This time, he would resist to morph. On the contrary, to endure tiredness and hunger again comforted him that a part of him was still human. Once he arrived under the arch, his companions were long gone out of sight. Down the east slope, Lissandro found their cache and added his winter clothes to theirs. He rectified his outfit and prepared his weapons. Should he save the day, he could as well do it with some panache. I won’t let the Frog have the monopoly on elegance, he thought, brushing back a lock of hair. Moving on along the trail, he scanned the forest.

  As he left the freshness of the mountains behind him, the air became heavy and moist. The incessant buzzing and whistling of the birds warned him he was unwelcome. Though nothing crossed his path, the bushes weren’t as empty of life as they looked. Leaves shook and small branches bounced, thus making him feel spied upon by a thousand eyes. Out of this prehistoric vegetation, Lissandro expected sharp teeth rushing towards him anytime. He wondered what kind of predator ruled on this close biotope. The older they were, the more dangerous they could be. Not even his other shape would save him from an allosaurus. Each strident monkey call froze his blood. As the path narrowed under the canopy, Lissandro felt like a conquistador lost in the Amazon forest…never to see the Alhambra again. From the creeping bugs to the multicolored flowers, everything screamed poison. I shouldn’t be scared. I got my mother’s Wayuu blood. This is as good as home. A ruffle in a bush sent him scurrying away.

  Arrived in sight of the gatehouse, he lurked behind a tree. Kilda sat outside the ruins. It meant they hadn’t found a way across the wall yet. Most likely, the rest of his companions were busy inside. The jungle resounded with the sound of a distant thunder. Lissandro spied long in vain. When out of her reveries, Kilda gathered dry wood and disappeared through the building’s entrance. A while later, smoke rose out of a window. Lissandro decided to wait for the night.

  Eventually, the thunder cracked and the mist broke into a downpour, thus forcing Lissandro to find refuge in the ruins. He climbed over a balcony and peeked inside the room where the thin stream of smoke came from. Around a glowing fire, Louis, Kilda, and the dog lay asleep in their blankets. Surprisingly, neither Selen nor Eliot shared the room. Lissandro feared the worst. Had something happened to them in the rain forest? Oblivious of their dispute, he wanted to step down and check on them. A move in the shadow stopped him. Eliot appeared from out of the doorway. Silent as a cat, he drew near Louis, crouched, and picked up something from under the blankets. The monk gave a nasty smirk to his friend before he left through an adjacent door. From the balcony, Lissandro followed Eliot room after room. He slipped inside and, in the darkness, made his way through the debris to a large room he judged to be the hallway. He scanned the room; a torch burned, but the monk was nowhere to be seen. On his right stood a gigantic, circular door, and its metallic parts shone in the light. Intrigued, he stepped closer.

  “Isn’t it captivating?” a warm voice whispered near his ear.

  Lissandro turned around with a start. Eliot stood right in front of him. “You scared me,” Lissandro said. The monk’s feline eyes shone with mischievousness.

  “And you shouldn’t be here, traitor,” Eliot whispered, moving closer to him again.

  Lissandro lowered his gaze with embarrassment. So, that was how his friends had presented him. He tried to find an excuse, but the truth was even worse to tell.

  “I’m not…” he mumbled, searching for his words.

  “Not guilty?” Eliot asked, approaching his face to his, and he warmed his cheek with his breath. The monk trailed his hand on the side of Lissandro’s chest. His nipple reacted to the touch. “No. You’re not guilty. You’re lonely.” Eliot carried on. The monk circled his body. His hands skimmed his curves. His presence affected his senses. “I can give you what you want.” The warm breath coated his ear.

  “What… What do you mean?” Lissandro stammered. Though he felt something was wrong, he didn’t want Eliot to stop. His caresses had been the first for an eternity. But you can’t like me, so what do you want of me?

  “What did you do in the cabin?” Eliot whispered. “Did it feel good?” The shameful memories stirred Lissandro, who wiggled closer to the intimate strokes. Eliot’s lips brushed his cheek. His tongue skimmed his lips. Lissandro gave back the kiss. Their tongues ro
lled, warm, sensual. Eliot tilted his head. “Did you rape the queen?”

  “What?” Lissandro’s eyes snapped open. This was too close to the truth to have been made up by the monk.

  “I saw how you groped him at that peasant’s house. I thought you would have taken my invitation.” Eliot’s hand resumed its caresses on his body. The monk shifted behind him.

  “No. I’m…” I’m not that desperate. Or maybe I am? His friends despised him. He had nothing more to lose, and the monk was far from being ugly.

  “Who do you want me to be? Which one do you long to bed?” Eliot asked. The monk’s hand reached for his loins and gave him the prelude of a good jack off. His cock hardened under the fingers. “The sweet queen? Or the frozen king?” Eliot grabbed his hair firmly and bit his neck with passion. Lissandro’s hips bucked back. Eliot’s cock pressed large and rigid against his butt.

  Lissandro gaped. What mattered his honor? He craved for more. A tear trickled down his cheek. “Be…”

  “Neither,” a second voice hissed from behind him.

  “I’m not armed,” Eliot whispered. “Cutting my throat is murder.”

  “Oh, I can live with that,” Selen whispered.

  Lissandro felt the sneer against his cheek. Weasel. Selen stifled a groan of pain. In a trice, Eliot let go of him and pulled out a dagger. Before the monk stabbed Selen, Lissandro hurled himself on him. They rolled onto the ground and against the door. In their struggle, the key fell from under the monk’s cloak.

  “You are the traitor,” Lissandro said. “You work for the Nuharinni.”

  Eliot gave him a nasty smile. “You are the bright one, aren’t you?”

  “Why didn’t you kill us? Why wait until now?” Lissandro asked.

  “I should have. But it was so much fun to see you jump at each other’s throats for something as trifling as a wineskin.” Eliot chuckled. “Besides, I wanted to find this place. I knew that that fool of a king who never listens would fail to open the door.” He glimpsed at the key and uttered a laugh. “And I was a hairbreadth from having him kill the wench.”

  Limping on a leg, Selen strode, crouched, and punched Eliot in the face. The monk’s head hit the door, and he fell unconscious.

  “I couldn’t endure more,” Selen whispered.

  “Selen, are you all right?” Lissandro asked, holding out his hand to help him.

  But Selen backed away out of reach with repulsion. “Don’t touch me,” Selen hissed.

  Heartbroken, Lissandro squirmed. “Did you hear?”

  “I heard enough,” Selen said. He rose and turned away. “What you did… I can’t forgive. Go back home, Lissandro. Return to the Frozen Mountains.” Selen made a few steps to leave.

  “I can’t,” Lissandro peeped, breaking into tears.

  “Why?” Selen asked, his voice slightly softened.

  Lissandro tried to answer, but no words passed the thick knot in his throat. He gasped for breath. Selen turned around and stared at him. The compassion in his eyes soothed Lissandro’s pain. His friend walked back to him.

  “What happened up there, Lilo?” Selen asked, concerned. “Why did you do that to us?”

  “Grimmr took a wife,” Lissandro said. Anger grew back in him. “And it’s your fault.”

  “May I remind you that it’s what you suggested Louis do two years ago,” Selen replied, offended.

  “But Louis chose you,” Lissandro snapped back. He saw the confusion on Selen’s face.

  “I’m sure Grimmr loves you,” Selen muttered.

  “He parades with his wife under my nose. It’s a question of months until she gets pregnant, and I have to hide like a pariah pretending to be the son I’m not. He didn’t even come to me anymore,” Lissandro snarled. “While you…you both are what I always wanted to have. You share unbreakable love. You display irritating perfection. You are like…an angel, and he is goddamn Saint-Just.” Anger choked him now. “Yes, I am jealous. I love Grimmr, but I have lived two centuries, and I have never had a glimpse of what you have.”

  Selen chuckled. “Is that what you think?” To Lissandro’s surprise, Selen joined him in tears and looked away. “You don’t need to be jealous,” Selen whispered. “Our relation is a mess. I’ve ruined everything…twice.” Selen brushed the air with his hand and rubbed the side of his head. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I must be stupid… I am stupid. Worse,” Selen whispered low. “If I can’t make him happy, then I don’t want this life anymore.” He turned to him. “I don’t want it.”

  Lissandro opened his mouth. “Selen…”

  “Let me go,” Selen hissed between two sobs. “Just…make it stop.”

  Touched by his friend’s words, Lissandro laid his hands on Selen’s shoulders. “Don’t think that, please. You’re not stupid.” Lissandro pondered an instant. “You need to concentrate on your mission. Show him you care,” Lissandro insisted, staring Selen in the eyes.

  Selen gave him back his gaze. “But I do! I want to save all those people. It has been my motivation from the start. I… I just didn’t know I should ignore my own desires,” he carried on in a murmur.

  “What you want will take away his freedom to live and die for his cause, the most ardent feeling in himself,” Lissandro whispered close to Selen. “Don’t ask him that.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Lissandro and Selen turned around. A torch in his hand, Louis stood in the doorway. Lissandro moved backwards, away from Selen. Slowly, Louis stepped towards them.

  “I thought I had been clear,” Louis said, his eyes riveted on Lissandro.

  “I wanted to help,” Lissandro said low.

  “I saw that,” Louis said. “But I won’t change my mind.”

  “Louis, he did,” Selen said, standing up for Lissandro. “Look.” Selen nodded at Eliot’s body.

  “What happened to him?” Louis asked, surprised.

  “He is the traitor. He is one of the Nuharinni,” Selen said.

  “But you still did the killings?” Louis asked Lissandro.

  “Please, Louis, listen,” Lissandro said. “I don’t ask for forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. But you must know that what happened should have been impossible. I was no more that creature. It was gone from my body. Gone. For five years, I had lived a normal life. Then it returned.”

  “How do you explain that?” Louis asked, curious.

  “I’ve wondered long about it. I think it may be in our cells.”

  “In our cells?” Louis squinted as if he didn’t understand the word.

  “In our bodies. Think about it. We barely aged in six years. You still look like you’re in your twenties. And you—” he turned towards Selen “—when was the last time you colored your hair? There is something wrong with us.”

  Louis seemed to ponder the question then shook his head. “I’m sorry. You may be right, but it’s not something I want to think about now,” Louis said without hiding his exhaustion.

  Selen picked up the key and walked to Louis, his head low. “I’m sorry about…whatever I did.” He handed him the key. “Here.”

  Ignoring the key, Louis hugged Selen with the arm that didn’t hold the torch. “You wanted to help,” he whispered. “In your own way.” His lips grazed Selen’s, who returned the kiss and, with trembling moves, embraced Louis tightly. The vision left a bittersweet taste in Lissandro’s mouth.

  Selen’s eyes fell on the key in his hand. “I think I know how to open the door.”

  “What?” Lissandro and Louis exclaimed.

  Selen stepped back from his friend and showed them the key. His long fingers groped the artifact. Pieces were pushed inside while others retracted or elongated. The key split in its middle and unfolded. It wasn’t a key anymore but a mold for a rose and an adder. Lissandro glanced at the door. It fitted perfectly the sculpted part in the middle ring.

  Louis laughed and kissed Selen full on the mouth. “You’re a genius!” he exclaimed. “Open it!”

  “Wait!” L
issandro exclaimed. “Should we do it now?”

  “Of course,” Louis answered. “We can’t delay…”

  “It’s pitch black outside, and so will it be on the other side of the wall. We have no plan, and we still have…him.” Lissandro nodded at Eliot.

  Louis calmed down. “You’re probably right. It can wait until dawn. Let’s carry him to our bivouac.”

  “Louis?” Lissandro turned to his friend. “May I stay? I will leave once we’re done here.”

  Louis stared at him. There was no anger in his eyes but the upset of a heavy heart. “Take his legs,” Louis finally said.

  They carried Eliot to the room where the fire burned. When they crossed the doorway, Kilda woke up.

  “Guys, what’s…” she mumbled. She fell silent once she saw him. Her mouth turned into a smile. “Lilo.”

  Lissandro smiled back. “Good evening.” He held out his wrists to her. “Would you mind tying me?”

  Kilda turned to Louis and lifted an eyebrow. He waved his hand in a don’t ask motion. She didn’t insist and picked up ropes from under her bag. Selen picked one and went into a corner with the monk.

  Eliot and Lissandro were bundled up with ropes while, wagging its tail, the dog licked the side of Lissandro’s face. Lissandro barely fought back. It was good to feel welcome.

  “Why do we need to tie you if you’re not the traitor?” Kilda asked as she fastened the last knot on Lissandro.

  “It’s just a matter of precaution,” Louis answered her. He lay down on his blankets with Selen by his side.

  Kilda laid a blanket over Lissandro. “I’m glad to have you here,” she whispered. “Let me know if I can do something for you.”

  Yes. Survive. I want us all to survive, Lissandro thought, watching the sparkles rise over the fire. His eyelids closed slowly, and he fell asleep.

  They had packed their bags and had gathered in the main hall in front of the door. Dozens of birds already chirped outside. Despite that the hall was cool, they all wore light linen. Lissandro massaged his wrists, which still bore the marks of his ties in a light purple tone. Sitting at his side, Eliot was still fastened like a dry sausage. They hadn’t decided what to do with him yet.