Cinder changed the subject to politics and the Overfather. He seemed to be gauging Elarhe’s reactions. Elarhe didn’t know much about the Overfather other than he hated the title. Cinder explained that the Overfather claimed to be a god, and his soldiers imprisoned or killed any who dared to voice opinions different from his. “He seeks to destroy any opposition. His laws are rigid and monstrous. The rich profit off the backs of the poor.”
“I noticed something like that when I first came to Darelock. Ayklinn has slaves. I thought the Grandimanderian Empire was more enlightened. But you do have slaves. You just don’t call them that.”
Cinder smiled at him. “You’re very perceptive.”
“How did you lose your hand?” Elarhe felt bad as soon as he said it, but he was curious.
“An Inquisitor. I was imprisoned and tortured.” He shrugged. “I’m more fortunate than many who spend time in the Overfather’s prisons.”
Elarhe couldn’t help himself. “Do you think Kite will be long.”
“I hope not. Greentree is our outpost near Darelock. It’s not that far. Surely Wolf pulled them back to Greentree.” He yawned in spite of his worried voice.
“Get some rest,” said Elarhe. “I’m tired, too.”
Cinder agreed, shut his eyes, and fell asleep almost immediately. Elarhe lay awake for a while, watching Cinder sleep. Being around someone who seemed so in command of his moods felt strange now. Cinder, with his wooden hand, seemed less wounded than Kite. Thinking about Kite drained Elarhe’s remaining energy. Sleep took him.
***
Elarhe wandered through dark corridors. He seemed to be in the castle, but the corridors made no sense. They were a dark, endless maze. Finally, he found Kite, naked, at the end of one. “Why did you betray me?” Kite asked.
“I haven’t!”
“You and Cinder. I should have known better than to leave you two alone.”
“It’s not like that.” Elarhe could feel his words getting lost in the mist all around. Black tears pooled at the bottom of his eyes. Sludge filled his mouth. He coughed into his hand. Inky sludge. Veins on his body stood out and turned black. He felt himself being eaten alive by darkness….
A sharp squeal woke Elarhe so suddenly he fell off the divan where he had been sleeping.
Chapter 23
On the couch near Elarhe, sat Cinder wide awake, very much alive, and enduring what looked like a painful embrace from Mole. Her thick arms encased all of his neck and most of his head. Elarhe thought he was going to have to say something to her, but she finally released him.
“So you’re the reason there’s blood all over the floor. You got hurt and flew to your cage didn’t you? Look at you, lovely as the snowlight.”
“I’m sorry,” Cinder managed as she bundled him into another hug. “Mole…Mole, I’m very tender.”
“What’s going on?” Goose’s voice was stern. “Oh! All of that blood!” Her hand splayed over her chest. Her wide eyes found Elarhe. Then a smile lit her face. “Cinder!” She ran over and hugged his neck.
Cinder hugged her back. “Hello, Goose.”
She released him for a round of scolding. “Why are you on the couch? Why aren’t you in your room? And you, too, Squirrel, you little troublemaker. What mischief are you about now?”
“I didn’t do anything,” said Elarhe huffily.
“He saved my life. The mess is my fault,” Cinder told her. “I was sick.”
Goose looked about. “Where’s Kite?”
“He’s running an errand for me.”
“Oh,” said Goose, her whole demeanor softening as she looked on Cinder. “Something for the Uprising?”
“Sort of. It will help them.”
Goose and Mole both watched Cinder with dewy eyes.
“Such a brave one you are,” Mole sighed.
Cinder cleared his throat. “Kite’s the one running the errand.”
Mole grinned at him. “You’re so brave to have a friend like Kite.” Her foot knocked against a washbasin and she seemed to notice his collection of them for the first time. She patted his cheek. “You poor thing. You look so tired. You need some tea and toast, don’t you?”
“Let me help you make it.” Cinder pulled himself up with a grimace.
Goose shoved him down hard enough to draw a pained grunt from the man. “Nonsense. You’re sick. She’s the cook. Let her do it.”
“She’s not my cook.”
“No, but the reason she and I make a good wage is because of your teachings.”
Mole beamed. “Now stay there in all of your shirtless sweetness. I’ll be right back.”
“And I’ll clean up the blood. Squirrel, I suppose you should do whatever it is you think you’re doing.”
“He’s taking care of me—at Kite’s request.”
Goose sniffed. “They’re speaking to each other again?”
Cinder waved his hands in a mocking flourish. “My magic is strong.”
Goose grinned—actually grinned—and flounced away.
Cinder turned to Elarhe. “Do you think perhaps I could borrow a shirt?” he asked in a small voice. “Not only because I feel embarrassed about my ‘shirtless sweetness’ but also because I’m cold.”
Elarhe laughed and headed upstairs. Because Cinder, although leaner, was nearly as tall as Kite, he decided to dress him in Kite’s clothes. He sifted through Kite’s wardrobe until he found something appropriate. As he was coming downstairs, he heard Kite’s voice. He bounded down the remaining steps. “Kite!”
Kite, bookended by Omen and Fortune, sat in the high-backed chair next to the couch. He didn’t have the appearance of a man who had spent much of the night riding through the snowy dark. As always, he radiated a dark, heavy energy that seemed to pull Elarhe toward him. He glanced at Elarhe and continued talking to Cinder. “You’ve trained your people well. I expected to ride into fires and riots, but I saw little damage. Wolf herded everyone away and brought the citizens of Greentree back home.”
“Then Wolf deserves much of the credit, and they deserve the rest. I have tried to make sure everyone understands why we strive to make our actions nonviolent, but, in the end, the choice is theirs.” Somehow, Cinder managed to look quite regal in his nest of blankets. The morning light showed the exhaustion in his face, but his jet eyes sparkled with fire despite the dark circles beneath them. He grinned broadly when he caught sight of Elarhe and put his hands out to catch the shirt. Elarhe tossed it to him and sat on the divan.
Kite watched Cinder pull the shirt over his head. “That’s a shame. I thought you looked rather sculptural. You have an impressive body when it isn’t covered by peasant tunics.”
Cinder rolled his eyes. “I felt cold. My thin Kaskikian blood.” He grinned at Elarhe. “Thank you.”
“Wolf said Petal is pregnant.”
“Yes.” Cinder looked at Elarhe. “Petal is my wife. I think I talked about her last night.”
“What the hells brought you here?” asked Kite. “I can’t believe you left her side.”
To Elarhe Cinder said, “Petal is one of the few people Kite doesn’t hate. I think he might actually like her. She thinks he’s warm and good-humored. I haven’t had the heart to tell her the truth.”
Kite didn’t seem to be listening. “What are you doing here, Cinder? Couldn’t Wolf have handled that demonstration by himself?”
Cinder sighed. “We needed to break a prisoner out of the Ice Tower.”
“Surely others could have done that.”
“The Ice Tower is one of the most formidable prisons in the Grandimanderian Empire, second only to the Traitor’s Tower. I’ve done it before. And no one’s better at break outs than I am.”
Kite drummed his fingers on his chair’s arm. “Your arrogance always amuses me.”
“It isn’t arrogance. It’s the truth. And I was going to ride home yesterday when I heard about the demonstration. I thought I would leave afterward.” He fell into brooding.
“I collecte
d Song for you,” said Kite. “She’s in the stable eating winter feed. She should be strong and ready to go whenever you are.”
“I was hoping to stay a few days—”
“Yes. You must. I think it will take at least several for you to get your strength back.”
“True, although I recover from these events more quickly than you might think,” said Cinder. He flashed a smile at Elarhe. “I want to stay a few days to help Elarhe with some spells. Maybe find a few books for him. If he’s here illegally, getting into an academy must be difficult.” His gaze rested on Elarhe. “Perhaps you would like to join me in Undertree? It’s near the captitol. Petal and I can teach you more than you could learn at any academy.”
“Thank you.” Elarhe glanced at Kite, who looked remote and expressionless. “I don’t know….”
Kite rejoined the conversation, staring at Cinder as if he had just woken from a dream. “You mean Squirrel?”
A muscle twitched in Cinder’s jaw. “He needs to learn more about his powers.”
As Kite seemed to be working himself up to an objection, Cinder said, “He saved my life. I mean to repay him however I can.”
“If that will make you happy, Cinder….” He rose and picked up the decanter on the cocktail table. He squared his broad shoulders. “I see you two got into my dragon’s milk last night.”
“You said he could have anything he wanted,” said Elarhe.
Kite ignored him. “For a peasant revolutionary, you have expensive taste.” He walked to the cabinet.
“I wasn’t always a peasant. I was the young lord of Kaskik’s highest house once.” To Elarhe he said, “I chose this life. I didn’t want to play the games of lords, to cloud my thoughts with commerce and acquisition. I needed to do something meaningful, something different.”
Elarhe already liked Cinder. He was grateful he wanted to teach him about his power, and he had already noticed how Cinder seemed to try to include him in the conversation. But at this he warmed to him completely.
Kite set two glasses on the table and filled them with the remaining dragon’s milk. He placed one before Cinder and took the other. Cinder shot a quizzical glance at Elarhe, then shoved the glass toward him. “My stomach is sour. Elarhe can have mine.”
Elarhe complied happily and drained his glass in one gulp. He smiled at Cinder as if he were the only one in the room. “I know exactly what you mean. About wanting to do something meaningful and different. I’m Elarhe Sar Darmenle, First Prince of Ayklinn. Magecraft is forbidden in Ayklinn, but I wanted to be a mage more than I wanted to be a prince, so I stole away one night with my manservant, who was my only friend, and crossed the border.”
“What fancy friends I have,” said Kite, sneering. “I grew up as a goatherd and know nothing of my parents. So now my highborn friends, who have chosen poverty, shelter at my estate and drink my whiskey.”
Cinder regarded him coolly. “I’m sorry that the way you came by your wealth shames you. What the Overfather did to you was cruel beyond measure. You should enjoy your prize in spite of Him.”
Kite glowered at Cinder for a moment, then jumped up to withdraw the fire poker. Elarhe’s heart leapt in his throat. He rose from his seat, but Cinder stayed very still. Kite attacked the logs with the poker, sending embers shooting in all directions. Elarhe fell back to his seat as Cinder’s hand motioned him down. His pulse took longer to calm. He didn’t want to believe Kite would attack his weak, powerless guest, but he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t. He tried to draw strength from Cinder’s composed gaze. Cinder ignored Kite’s tantrum, but his dark eyes watched Elarhe quietly, as if gathering intelligence.
Mole arrived with a heavily laden tray. She sat the tray down and pulled another tray from beneath it. She loaded the bare tray with dry toast and a cup of tea for Cinder, then began pouring tea for Elarhe and Kite. Kite, standing before the fireplace holding the poker across his body with two hands, refused tea. “I’m drinking,” he replied to Mole’s insistence that he needed tea.
“Drinking?” She looked at him askance. “It’s morning.”
“I’ve been up all night. It doesn’t feel like morning to me.” As she left, he put the poker away and began rifling through the liquor cabinet. When he found something that suited him, he filled a new glass and sat in his chair. As always, Elarhe marveled how Kite could fill a room with his sulking. From marble floor to cathedral ceiling, the entire space seemed filled with an inky deluge.
Elarhe hung his head, turning over his empty teacup, staring at Kite out of the corner of his eye. He wanted so badly to go to him, to pull Kite’s pouting face against his chest, to kiss him until his expression softened and his cock grew hard.
“Elarhe.” Cinder’s gentle voice woke him from his reverie. “Please eat some of this toast. I was trying not to waste it, but she must have given me half a loaf. I’m killing myself trying to eat it all.”
As Elarhe took some toast, Kite snickered quietly then laughed aloud. “Death by toast. The brave leader of the Uprising, who survived the Traitor’s Tower, nine arrows, and who knows how many cases of overcast, was killed tragically this morning by too much toast.”
Cinder, rubbing his stomach, laughed, so Elarhe did, too. He laughed mildly, however, for he was eating the rest of the toast and had to be careful not to open his mouth or scatter crumbs about. He caught Kite watching him suddenly and became self-conscious.
“You eat so daintily,” Kite said in a soft, wistful voice. “I should have guessed you were a prince.” He turned to Cinder then, as if Elarhe were no longer in the room. “Can you believe I’ve had that little vagrant in my house for months and he never told me he was a prince?”
Cinder cocked a brow at Kite. “Perhaps you should try talking to him.”
Chapter 24
Faced with the choice of following Cinder to Undertree and learning magecraft or staying with Kite and using books to learn on his own, Elarhe found himself wanting to stay with Kite. He was sure they could work things out if only they tried.
Elarhe found Kite in the study. Kite’s back was to him; he didn’t turn around as the door creaked open, but remained staring out the window, watching the snow fall outside. “What if every terrible thing you thought about yourself were true? All of your worst fears, all of your deepest suspicions. What if when you imagined dark corners and lurking demons, you discovered that everywhere was dark and the demons were rampant?”
Elarhe felt mesmerized by the curve of his lower back, the set of his broad shoulders. As Kite seemed to be waiting for an answer, Elarhe took a breath finally and said, “If it bothered you, then I suppose the only thing to do would be to try to be better.”
“I love the snow,” Kite said softly. “I could watch it all day and never grow tired of it.”
“It is beautiful,” said Elarhe.
“It’s as quiet and insistent as death. It covers. It devours. It masks everything with its own cold image. It tries to take the life of everything it touches. It’s a destroyer.”
“It’s just snow, Kite.”
“Undertree is beautiful. A bright land fragrant with sun-ripened fruit and olives. Cinder can teach you all about your magic, and he will see no harm comes to you. I’ve never known a braver man.”
“I haven’t quite decided—”
“In time you will find meaningful work and, perhaps, love.” He swallowed and stood straighter, his hands clenched behind his back. “The men wear very little there in the summertime; it’s a good place to be young.”
Elarhe found it annoying when Kite acted as if he were so much older. Not so many years separated them. He was about to say something about this when Kite exhaled a deep breath. “I don’t blame you for wanting to leave.”
Elarhe moved closer. “Maybe…I want to stay with you. I….”
“Cinder and Petal know how to teach students of magic.”
“If only you were willing, you could teach me.”
“My magic doesn’t work the same way yours
and Cinder’s does.”
Elarhe ground his teeth in frustration. “You taught me how to heal in a matter of moments. You know about this magic even if you don’t practice it.”
In a small voice, Kite said, “They can teach you more than I ever could.”
He felt as if his chest were filled with stones. “I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. I look at you the way you look at the snow. I could watch you the rest of my life and never tire of what my eyes beheld.”
Kite said nothing.
“Relationships can be difficult. You’ve never really had one. You can teach me about magic, and I’ll teach you how to love.”
Kite remained completely still. He stood so still, in fact, that Elarhe felt frozen as well, stuck halfway across the large room from the man he loved.
“I’m incapable of love, Squirrel. I never intended for you to love me. I don’t know what you thought we were doing here, but I only meant to shelter you from the patrols and the thugs. As for anything else…I used you because you were convenient. You mean nothing more to me than some boy in a brothel.”
Elarhe’s sight blurred with tears. “You don’t mean that. I know you don’t mean that. You’re just saying that because you want me to go.”
“And why would I want you to go? Because you were my shiny toy and now I’m bored with you. You’re a spoiled little ingrate and I’ve been wondering how to get rid of you, and here Cinder comes along to take you off my hands. I think that’s damned convenient. What do you think?”
“I think you don’t know what you want,” Elarhe said raggedly. “I think you’re making a huge mistake.”
Kite glanced over his shoulder. “Stop crying. You’re not half as pretty as you think you are, Squirrel, and you’re especially unattractive when you cry.”
Elarhe walked back a few steps. Blinking away tears, he lifted his chin. “I know you can’t help being cruel. It’s woven somehow in the tapestry of your nature. I loved you anyway.” He took a deep breath. “Whatever you say, whatever you want me to believe, I don’t think your whores and your dogs and your big, dreary castle are enough. I think there’s an emptiness inside you only love can fill. So I stand here loving you, all of you, with every trembling breath, with every ugly tear. And you’re throwing it away.”
Lover, Destroyer Page 14
