by A R DeClerck
“No.” Sage curled her fingers inward and extinguished her golden power. “Give to someone else, Karoline. Someone who deserves it.”
“You deserve it!” She pressed her palms against his cheeks. “I can feel your pain, Uncle. His, too. You shouldn’t be apart. The grief of living without each other is worse than any other.”
“I’m sorry you feel our regrets.” Sage knew the girl was a rare Giver. It was her Gift to bring happiness and peace to those in need. An empath of the highest level, she was usually heavily warded against feeling emotion unless she chose it. He hated the idea that she felt his weary regret in her young, beautiful heart. “If I could go back, I would do things differently.”
She stared hard into his eyes. She was Skifta, like her mother, and a Giver. Exceptionally strong willed, and powerful to boot. She held his gaze without effort. “There is something you must know. Something you realized too late to change.”
He tried to look away, but he couldn’t. She was right. Over the years, he had come to realize that he’d made terrible mistakes.
“The future is not set. It is not immutable. It can be changed.” She whispered to him with her power, and this was her Gift to him. “Long ago, you saw this day, and you did not believe.” She turned her gaze and looked over his shoulder, and he thought perhaps she was speaking now to the Sage that looked on from the past. “You may lose Gio. You may not. Know this: The joy in love comes from cherishing moments that may be lost at any time. There are no guarantees. No promises. Only now. Only the moment. This is what makes love important. Seize the moments you have. Make the best of them. Adore him. And if you are parted, you will never have a day of regret.”
SAGE COULDN’T HOLD up his head as the vision faded away. He had the image of Karoline’s face burned into his eyes as he tried to draw breath into his lungs. He strained and thought he heard a howl. Was it the wind? Or the Skifta?
“N-no,” he murmured through icy lips. He would not die now when he had so much to live for. The future was mutable. It had to be. He couldn’t wake up alone and bitter twenty years from now to find out that he’d been a complete ass all that time. His fingers clawed for the dimming flashlight, the battery was drained by the cold.
He might be stubborn. Hell, his picture was in the dictionary next to the definition of the word. But he wasn’t stupid. The man who had spoken to Karoline all those years from now was a fool, and Sage knew how to learn from his mistakes. Even future ones. He would live to see Gio again, and then he would spend every waking moment of the rest of his life loving the man like he deserved to be loved.
He pulled the sleeping back up over his nose and fought to stay awake. Sleeping now would mean death. He blinked, ignoring the razor sharp cut of the ice on his cheeks. He breathed deep and counted his breaths. He chanted the only word that meant anything to him. “Gio. Gio. Gio.”
“I SEE A HOLE IN THE ground.” Gio pointed ahead as the Skifta surged forward. “Did he fall?”
“Stay back. There may be caves beneath the snow.” Acacius held Gio steady as the Skifta carefully moved forward toward the chasm.
“I don’t hear him.” Gio’s hands shook, and he tried to breathe past the panic that lay heavily on his chest. “Why isn’t he calling out to us?”
“If he’s been down there for hours, as we believe, he may be near hypothermia.” Acacius looked at Gio serenely.
“I need to go down there!”
“We’ll need to lower someone down,” one of the male Skifta said as he came back at a jog. “He’ll need to be lifted out.”
“I’ll go,” Gio insisted. “It has to be me.”
Acacius nodded and reached for the rope on his pack. “Yes. It should be you.”
Gio stood at the edge of the dark hole and looked down. The Skifta had tied a rope around his waist.
“Carefully,” Acacius instructed, as Gio stepped over the edge. Slowly, they began to lower him into the icy pit. Gio didn’t breathe again until his feet touched the ground. He clicked on his flashlight and pointed it around the cave. Every wall was covered in ice.
“Oh, God,” Gio murmured. What torture it must have been for Sage, surrounded by reflective surfaces. He bit back a cry when his light illuminated a bundle of thermal blankets on the ground. He shimmied out of the rope and hurried to kneel next to the heap. “Sage?” He pulled back the blanket and dug beneath the wool hat until his fingers touched skin. Ice-cold skin. “Sage!” He hurried to the hole and looked up at the Skifta. “He’s unconscious.”
“Get him in the rope, and we’ll pull him up,” Acacius urged.
Gio tugged the rope to Sage’s body and began to unwrap him from the pile of blankets. He pushed the rope over Sage’s head and under his arms, and then grunted as he dragged the heavier man toward the hole.
“Okay!” he called up. He guided Sage’s limp body until he was too high to hold on to. A few moments later, the rope dropped back for him, and Gio slipped it over his own torso. The minutes it took to haul it up through the hole felt like years. When he was on his feet again, he pushed off the rope and hurried to the travois where Sage was strapped to the furs. Gio knelt and brushed a hand over the man’s cheeks. “Is he going to be okay?”
“He’s alive but barely.” Acacius patted Gio’s shoulder. “Come. He will recover more quickly back at home.”
“Yes.” Gio reached for Sage’s gloved hand and held it in his own. “Let’s get him home.”
SAGE OPENED HIS EYES one at a time. He felt warm, and it frightened him. A dark shadow loomed over him, and he thought of the specter of death, come to claim him.
“You have an imagination,” a soft voice huffed into his ear, spreading the warmth of its breath over his neck. “No one has ever called me Death before.”
Sage rolled to his back, and stared up into the face of the biggest wolf he had ever seen. Its fur was black as coal, with only a silver mask around its eyes. The wolf blinked at him and tilted its head, its tongue lolling from its mouth.
“Skifta?” Sage managed through dry lips.
The wolf laughed, a coughing sound from deep in its throat. “My children, you mean?”
Sage recalled the story Jessy had told him, about the gods called the Mo-I, who had granted an ancient Wolf spirit a pack of half-human, half-wolves to keep him company. “Brother Wolf?” he guessed.
The wolf dipped his head in assent. “You are strong. Not many survive our land without the blood of the wolf in their veins.”
“So I’m alive?”
The wolf laughed, again. “Alive? Yes. This is what you might call a dream.”
Sage was used to dreams. Used to visions. He had never seen a sentient talking Wolf spirit in any of them.
“Will I...” He had a hard time making the words come out. This was an ancient being, as close to a God as he might ever find. If anyone knew what lay ahead, Brother Wolf would. “Will I be with Gio again?”
Man and wolf stared into one another’s eyes for a long while. For the first time in many years, Sage did not feel the pull of his Gift when he saw his reflection in the wolf’s eyes.
“Is that what you want?”
“More than anything.”
The wolf dipped his head, so that he was closer to Sage’s face. Sage felt the hot breath of the beast on his cheek. “That is up to you,” the wolf said.
“I will change. I can change,” Sage vowed. He said it more for himself than for the wolf. He had a feeling the wolf knew what was inside him better than he did, anyway.
“We are tied to a fundamental nature,” Brother Wolf warned. He tapped Sage’s cheek with his cold nose. “There are some things that cannot be changed.”
“I must.” Sage could not say all the words that needed to be said. Couldn’t put them all together into sentences. But the wolf knew. He understood. Was this how Jessy felt, Sage wondered. In tune with a being so different, so alien, and yet so comforting? His presence cleared Sage’s mind and brought his thoughts to perfect clarity. “
If I don’t, Gio and I can never stay together.”
“Why not?”
“Because he would be unhappy. I won’t do that to him. I won’t break his spirit that way.”
“Then leave him.”
“I can’t do that. I won’t.”
“Then change.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
The wolf backed away a few paces, and then lay down, placing his head on his paws. He was face to face with Sage. “Tell me.”
Sage told him everything. His memory of the first time his Gift came to light. His multiple relationships, all ending horribly when he ignored the visions he Saw. His life with Bas and the others. His friendship with Jessy. The first day he met Gio and the instant connection between them. His vision from his first visit to the Mo-I Rana. Their relationship. Gio’s disappearance.
“And when you fell through the ice, you had visions then, too?”
“I did.” Sage explained the glimpses of a future he could not abide. His solitary, unhappy life without Gio. The disillusioned old man with only a little girl to bring light to his life.
“I have seen this child.” The wolf seemed to smile as he spoke of Karoline. “She is all I have ever imagined my children might be.”
“She told me the future is mutable. Pliable. That I can change it if I choose to.”
“Do you believe her?”
Sage didn’t have the answer. He wanted to believe the girl in his vision.
“What holds you back from this?” the wolf asked. The question was pointed, sending a shard of pain through Sage’s skull. He groaned and closed his eyes.
“I don’t know.”
“Think, human. The answer lies within you.”
“Damn you!” Sage cursed the wolf as his head pounded and lights flashed behind his eyelids. He could feel his brain reacting to the power in the wolf-spirit’s voice. Even as he resisted it, he was contemplating the question.
“You are not a God, are you?” the wolf demanded.
“No,” Sage bit out.
“Have your visions ever lied to you?”
“No.”
“You are wrong,” the wolf whispered.
Sage opened his eyes and stared at the wolf-spirit.
Brother Wolf leaned closer. “That is right, human. Your visions have been wrong before, you simply do not know it.”
“It can be...I can be wrong?” Sage gasped.
“You can,” the wolf whispered. “Ask Garret Holmes.”
Sage knew the name. A man who had contracted Sage to See his future, Garret Holmes had been fated to die in a terrible plane crash at the age of thirty-four. When he had left Sage’s office on his thirtieth birthday Sage had never seen him again. “Garret lived?”
“He did.” Brother Wolf tilted his head and stared at Sage. “Because of your vision he never flew again. He lives now with his wife and daughter in the desert.”
Sage had no breath. He’d Seen Garret’s death so clearly, and he’d consigned Holmes to a grave before the man had even left his office. Could it be true? Was Garret Holmes really alive?
“Yes,” Brother Wolf glared at Sage for doubting him. “The man lives.”
“Are there...are there others?” Hope flared in Sage’s chest. It burned hot against his lungs and choked his breath in his throat.
“Cassandra Barret.”
“The ballet dancer.” Sage had foreseen the young woman’s debilitating illness, and had warned her that within five years she would no longer be able to dance en pointe.
“She danced last night. Swan Lake, I believe.”
“I Saw her muscles wither. She shouldn’t even be able to walk.”
“You Saw one possible future. Cassandra took your warning and invested in research that ultimately led to the cure for her illness.”
Sage threw his arm over his eyes as tears burned against his eyelids. “I am a fool.”
Brother Wolf laughed. “Most humans are.”
“Does that mean that the future I Saw for Gio and myself...the happy one...it might never happen?”
“Certainly it will happen. If you make it happen.”
“Does my Gift matter at all?”
“Ask Cassandra Barret and Garret Holmes if your Gift matters. Ask their families. Their children.” Brother Wolf snorted with derision. “What point do you get from this, Seer?”
“That I can change the future. That knowing, Seeing, means I can change it.”
“Perhaps you can change it. Perhaps not. But the trying, dear human, the trying is what matters!”
Sage’s heart swelled with hope and a sudden hot desire to see Gio again. He would pull the man into his arms and never let him go. “Will he have me back?”
“There is no greater question than the one of love. Especially, in the human heart.” Brother Wolf nosed him as the world began to go black around them. “The trying,” he whispered. “The trying is what matters.”
SAGE HAD NEVER REALLY believed in Heaven. He figured when people died, they were a light that went out forever. Blink. Gone. He stared at the man sitting next to his bed, his head bent in exhausted sleep. This must be Heaven. There was no other explanation as to why Gio was here.
He looked tired. Sage studied every line. Even in sleep, there was a vibrancy about him that most people could only achieve with makeup and caffeine. His skin glowed golden in the firelight, his dark hair a thousand shimmering shades of brown, black and gold. Even the beard, that Sage secretly liked, was hundreds of magnificent colors all at once.
“Keep staring at me like that, and I’ll think you have a crush,” Gio murmured sleepily. He didn’t open his eyes or move other than the twitching of his beard.
“More than a crush,” Sage managed through dry lips, cracked from the cold.
Gio’s eyes opened and locked with his. “You look like hell.”
“Yeah. Funny how that happens.”
Gio moved so gracefully, turning to drop his elbows to his knees as he folded his hands under his chin. He stared thoughtfully at Sage on the bed. His perusal surprised Sage. He’d expected to see anger in Gio’s face, but there was something serene in his expression.
“How are you feeling?”
Sage wanted to say he was fan-fucking-tastic. That just seeing Gio’s face was enough to make him forget every twinge of his bruised body. Instead, he managed a weak shrug. “I’ll live.”
“You were lucky. If we hadn’t found you when we did...”
“Yeah. Sage-cicle.”
“Right.”
“How...I mean, when did you get here?”
Gio raised an elegant eyebrow. Just the way he did it, the expression, made Sage’s blood pressure rise. Along with other parts of his body that had no business barging in on the conversation.
“I’ve been here since Friday.”
Sage’s mouth was dry, and he licked his lips. He knew he looked like hell. Next to Gio he was always the awkward, underdressed bumbler. He grunted gratefully when Gio put a straw to his lips and let him drink from a glass of cold water. “Thanks.”
Gio put the glass on the table and returned to his chair. “Are you angry that I was here all along?”
Sage wanted to laugh. If he had known that Gio was waiting for him in the Mo-I village he would have clawed his way from that cave. He shook his head. “Nah.”
“You know why I left?”
Sage knew. If he was smart he would have admitted it months ago, but no one had ever accused him of being smart. Stubborn, yeah. He was too stubborn for his own good, sometimes. “Yes. I know.”
Gio looked away, and for a long moment there was only silence between them. Sage studied every line and angle of Gio’s face, drinking them in. It quenched a deeper thirst than water ever could. “I Saw something in the cave.”
Gio’s head whipped around, his eyes clashing with Sage’s again. He licked his lips and crossed his arms over his chest. Whenever Sage spoke about his Gift, Gio got nervous. Sage knew he was wondering if this wa
s the vision that would finally break them up for good.
“I Saw something very important.”
Gio stood, pacing. He rubbed his palms over his thighs. “Can I say something first?”
Sage was surprised, but he nodded.
“I don’t care what you Saw. I don’t care if you saw us breaking up, or dying old together. Don’t tell me.”
“Why?”
“Because it doesn’t matter.” Gio dropped to his knees beside the bed and wrapped his hands around Sage’s. The tears in Gio’s eyes killed Sage, but Gio was smiling. “None of it matters.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You never made me unhappy. Do you understand that?”
Sage shook his head. “I didn’t commit, not really. You need...”
“I need you.” Gio pressed his lips to Sage’s knuckles. “Do you understand that? I need you more than water and air or shoes. We can make this work, if we just keep trying.”
“More than shoes?” Sage had to laugh. If he ranked as more important than Gio’s shoes then he had certainly gained standing in the last few days.
“Even my Ferragamoes.” Gio joked, sniffling.
“What brought that on?” Sage was choking up, tears in his own eyes. There was something different about Gio that scared him a little.
“I thought I lost you. It made me realize that it wasn’t your lack of commitment holding us back. It was my fear. Fear that you might leave me someday, just to save me some future pain.”
“There was a time when I might have had the strength to leave you,” Sage admitted. He raised his hand to push Gio’s hair off his forehead. His thumb trailed over Gio’s cheek and his lips. “Not now. Not ever.”
“It doesn’t matter. One day. A year. Five. They’re worth it.”
Sage knew that Gio was telling him something important, but his mind and his heart couldn’t make sense of it. “When I woke up and you were gone, I figured I had lost you forever.”
“I’m a vain and manipulative bastard,” Gio said sheepishly. “I thought I could wake you up with some kind of grand gesture.” His cheeks went red with a deep blush. “I was a fool. I’m always a fool when I think I’m right.”
