A few moments later, Douglas emerged from the bathing chamber, drying his hands as though he’d just washed. He looked tired, haggard even, for one so young. “Hi,” he said softly.
Tràth nodded, not trusting his own voice.
Douglas indicated the seating area with a tilt of his head. “Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting anyone. I had no idea you were in the Halls of Mist.” The last sentence came out with a small measure of hurt.
“I arrived earlier tonight,” Tràth said, following Douglas through the disorder of crates to a pair of chairs. “I needed to deliver some papers to my father in person.” He paused. “I was saddened to hear about Munro, may he rest in the bosom of the Mother.”
“Thanks.” With a gesture, he invited Tràth to sit. They did so in silence. A hundred questions danced within the druid’s grey eyes, but he paused as though uncertain where to begin. “Right,” Douglas said awkwardly.
“I was at the Caledonian Hall when Aaron arrived. He told me, commanded me, in fact, to speak with you.”
Douglas winced. “That’s…uncomfortable.”
Tràth tilted his head. “He told me you have business in Zalia, some work at the archives?” With a wave to the crates and piles stacked all over the room, he added, “You plan to leave soon?”
“I need to get away from the Hall,” Douglas said. The urgency in his tone surprised Tràth.
“Has something happened?”
Douglas shifted uncomfortably and told him about his slowly building feelings of addiction to the Source Stone, the compelling need to feed it, and the overwhelming sensation of irritation when he tried to resist. “None of this makes sense, but I believe the Stone wanted me to push you away,” he said. He looked at his hands, not meeting Tràth’s gaze. “It’s no excuse. I said terrible things…things I didn’t mean.”
Confusion wafted over Tràth for the first time since he’d buried their connection. He couldn’t test the validity of Douglas’ claims. Still, he’d never known Douglas to lie outright. Blind without the bond to guide him, he realised he wanted to believe Douglas. He chastised himself for the sentimentality. He’d heard the apology before. After a moment, Tràth asked, “Why would the Stone want you to push me away?” The concept baffled him, but he couldn’t deny the artefact did have an almost sentient nature.
“I don’t know,” Douglas said. “I realise how bonkers I sound. I wouldn’t believe me either.” He glanced in the direction of the portal. “It still calls me. It wants something from me and sees you as an obstacle to my attention.”
Emotion made Tràth’s throat thick. “Am I?”
“Very much so,” Douglas said quietly. “I thought the bond made me love you. I was wrong.”
Tràth looked into Douglas’ grey eyes. “How can you be certain?”
“I can’t feel the bond anymore. When you were in Zalia, the connection was slight, so much so that I would have sworn I couldn’t feel it. Then one night, something snapped. The last, almost undetectable current of our connection vanished. I haven’t been able to sense anything about you since.” He glanced away. “I believed you were dead. I can’t describe what that moment did to me, what the silencing of our bond is doing to me now.” When Tràth didn’t respond, Douglas added, “Even without the bond, I love you.”
Tràth closed his eyes. He wanted to believe him, but the wounds of Douglas’ previous rejection still throbbed in his chest. Breathing deeply, he resisted the welling tears.
The thick atmosphere was broken by the silent entrance of two servants bearing trays of food and drink. Tràth accepted a glass from one, grateful for respite from the overwhelming and conflicting emotions. “Thank you,” he said. The servants bowed and left without a word.
Douglas drank, watching Tràth closely. “I’m going to tell you a story I’ve never told anyone.”
Tràth nodded. He put a selection of fruit from a tray onto one of the small dishes, but he couldn’t have eaten a bite. He merely wanted to keep his hands busy, needing something to focus on besides Douglas’ voice.
“You know human children go to school at least until they’re sixteen,” he said. Without waiting for a response, he went on. “It happened in my last year. I’d always been awkward with girls, but somehow I managed to get this girl Melinda, Mel, to go out with me. If I remember right, she might have even asked me the first time. Her best friend was called Jess, and my mate Shug was keen on her. We started taking the girls out around the same time, so we doubled. I think the first real date was to the cinema. I can’t remember.”
Tràth put down his glass, curious at the naked emotion in Douglas’ expression.
“Shug was seventeen and had access to his mum’s car. We both lived in the same part of town, so he’d come pick me up, and then we’d go get the girls. They went to a different school, you see?”
Tràth nodded, even though he had no idea what the difference meant.
“This was before my druid magic was awakened, so alcohol didn’t make me sick back then. So after the film, we broke out the booze. Me and Shug got pretty hammered, and we were making out with the girls, Shug and Jess in the front seat and me and Mel in the back. Then Jess told us they had to get home by midnight, so that was that, you know? We took the girls home and went back to his place. He didn’t have a dad, and his mum worked all night, so he practically lived alone.”
Douglas wiped his hands on his trousers and paused his rapid storytelling uncertainly before forcing himself to go on. “Anyway, so we were hammered like I said, and he said to me something like wasn’t it a shame we didn’t have a chance to get off with them, you know? And I laughed and said yeah, but I hadn’t expected much on the first date. I can’t remember how he said the next bit. You’d think the moment would be crystal clear in my memory. He said we should help each other out.”
Douglas glanced up to see if Tràth understood. Tràth raised an eyebrow, which Douglas clearly took as a sign that he did. “So, we fumbled around with each other. It was just a laugh at first, like a dare.” He blushed as he remembered. “We were drunk. I’d never really thought about guys that way, but I was a kid. I barely even thought about girls. Well, that’s a lie. I thought about girls, but mostly about how much they terrified me.”
Tràth leaned over and refilled Douglas’ glass from the carafe. Douglas nodded his thanks and took a deep drink of the pale fruity liquid.
“Next morning, we woke up, and he acted totally normal, like we hadn’t….done anything the night before. So I did too. What happened was on my mind though. A lot. The next weekend, we went out with the girls again, to some pub, I think. Technically, we were too young, but Shug knew a place that never checked. Like before, we took the girls home by midnight then went to Shug’s. That night, same deal. We…fooled around. We went on like this for more than a month. Every time was more intense. At first, we told ourselves, we’re just messing about. It wasn’t gay. After a while, we found it harder to pretend what we were doing was all a big joke. Then one weekend, he said why bother taking the girls out at all? We’d get some beer and stay in. I was fine with the idea. I mean, I liked Mel well enough. She was funny and sweet, but when I was out with her, all I could think about was going to Shug’s.”
“What happened?” Tràth asked.
“That night Shug’s old lady came home from work sick. Caught us.” He looked away and chuckled. “If it hadn’t been so horrible, I guess I would think it was funny. You should have seen the look on her face. Then she flew at Shug, whacking him with her handbag, calling him all kinds of names. Faggot. Queer. Pervert. Whatever. I grabbed my stuff and got out of there.” Douglas shrugged, looking self-conscious, and Tràth thought about Aaron walking in on them. The tale put the innocent moment in a new light. “So I walked home. Like I said, I didn’t live far. By the time I got home twenty minutes later, Shug’s mum had called my dad. He was all red in the face, looking like you could fry an egg on him.”
“What did he do?”
“B
efore he got a chance to let loose, I told him Shug’s mum was batty and a drunk, both of which were true. I told him me and Shug were hanging out on the X-Box, and she’d come in screaming like a crazy woman ‘cause Shug had his shirt off. I guess my old man knew her well enough to buy my story, so he just said I shouldn’t go over there anymore. He looked at me sideways, though. I’m not sure he believed me.”
“What happened to Shug?” Tràth asked gently.
“I dunno. I tried ringing him, but he’d never pick up or return the call. He left school. I heard he got an apprenticeship with a local electrician. He stopped calling Jess, and she was heartbroken. She asked me why, but I couldn’t tell her the truth, even though it was my fault. I kept hooking up with Mel for a while. Maybe I wanted to prove I wasn’t queer. Then one day, she tells me she’s going to university and she needs to concentrate on her schoolwork, so we couldn’t see each other anymore.”
“You must have been hurt,” Tràth said.
“Not really. I’d been trying too hard. Clinging. Pushing her for sex, then going all cold when we did do anything. I wanted to forget her and Jess, but especially Shug. Every time I thought about her, a question about myself popped into my head. So after Mel, I started chasing other girls, as many as I could, even though I never got anywhere with them. I was…awkward. I left school, and before long, I met Cridhe and he awakened my druidic powers. Those few weeks with Shug, well, I buried the memory deep, pretending nothing happened. I can’t really say why I couldn’t admit it, even to myself.” He looked at Tràth. “When I said I wasn’t queer, well…”
Tràth didn’t understand the details. Too much was wrapped in puzzling nuances of human culture. Even without the bond, he had a better understanding of the shame Douglas felt about his sexuality.
“Did you love Shug?” Tràth told himself he wasn’t jealous, but an unfamiliar twinge pulled at him.
Douglas looked deep into Tràth’s eyes. “I’ve never loved anyone but you.”
The walls around Tràth’s heart threatened to crumble, but he needed to keep them intact a little longer. He had more to say. “Douglas, I’m going to become Princess Imena’s mate. I’ve signed the agreement stating our terms and intent.”
Douglas looked stricken. “Oh,” he said, flushing a deep shade of red. “I…yeah,” he stammered. “Aaron told us she’d asked you. I thought… Congratulations.” He turned, his eyes seeking out the Source Stone in the distance. He stood and began searching through crates, adjusting things as though deciding what to do. He looked lost.
“I made a promise. I cannot break my word,” Tràth said.
“Of course not,” Douglas whispered, still pretending to arrange his things. “I wouldn’t ask you to.” He stopped and pressed his eyes tightly closed. His tone soft, he said, “That’s another lie. I do want you to break your word. Live with me. Be my mate. Open our bond so I can feel your mind the way I used to.” He leaned on a tall crate, clutching the wooden sides, his face contorted with pain. “I miss you so much.”
Tràth stood and wove between the crates to stand beside Douglas. Gently, he pulled his bonded druid into an embrace. After a moment, he whispered, “I need to tell you a story.” When Douglas glanced up, Tràth asked, “You’ve met Joy?”
“Yes,” he said.
Tràth took Douglas’ hand. “In Zalia, there are dozens, maybe hundreds of azuri like her, outcasts who have endured the same abuse. Until recently, when one of our kind was discovered, the first thing the Zalian authorities would do is cut their throat, removing the vocal folds to prevent them from speaking incantations. The sign language they developed was tolerated, but if an azuri taught another how to touch the flows, their fingers were removed. If they were caught learning incantations, they were blinded so they wouldn’t see the signs. They weren’t allowed to venture out at night, forced to scavenge or beg during the day. No one will hire them to do honest work, so many steal to survive. If they’re discovered, they are executed. Kind people shun them while unkind ones torment them.”
Douglas squeezed Tràth’s hand. “Aaron never explained her scars. How terrible.”
“Things are changing in Zalia. Already they’ve agreed to repeal laws because I’ve promised to become Imena’s mate. Because of my sworn loyalty to Zalia, azuri are no longer under restricted movement. Teaching and learning are no longer crimes. There’s so much more to do. I’m going to be the first Zalian nobleman to take these people out of the slums and give them work. I will bring mentors from Caledonia to teach the Zalian azuri how to use their talents.”
“I understand,” Douglas said. “This is something you need to do.”
“Imena has offered you legal status in Zalia and is granting me my own house. We couldn’t make our relationship public, but in private we could live as we liked. We won’t be mates, but we can be together.” He paused. “It doesn’t seem worthy to ask you to remain in the shadows.”
“I’m a Druid Lord. I’m never in the shadows,” Douglas said with a chuckle. “I’m proud of you. I can see what this role means to you. I could never offer you something as fulfilling here in the Druid Hall. This feels right. So, when do you leave?”
When Aaron had ordered him to speak with Douglas, this was the last outcome Tràth could have predicted. “An hour before dawn, at the latest. I need to meet with the Keepers, some of the Caledonian elders, then I have a dozen letters of instruction to dispatch.” Tràth looked around the room. “How long before you’re ready?”
“I’d leave now, if you wanted me to,” Douglas said, reaching up to stroke Tràth’s cheek. “Tell me you forgive me for everything I put you through.”
Tràth tilted his head toward Douglas’ hand, enjoying the man’s touch. He reached inward, feeling the mountain of rubble which covered the connection between them. At first, the obstacle wouldn’t budge, but when Tràth spoke silent words of forgiveness, it melted like snow in a hot summer sun. Warmth rushed in, flowing between them. “I do,” Tràth said. Douglas kissed him fiercely, his stubble scraping Tràth’s skin. Tràth felt none of the reticence previously separating them. The passionate embrace left them breathless and hungry for one another. After a few moments, Tràth spoke with some regret. “I have to go. The Keepers are expecting me. I wish I could stay.”
Douglas grinned. “Knowing you want to is enough for the moment.” He kissed Tràth again, running his mouth down the faerie’s neck and biting him playfully. “You’d better go,” he whispered. “The longer you stay, the harder it will be to leave.”
“Faith,” Tràth swore, stepping away reluctantly. “Be ready. I’ll return before dawn.”
∞
Griogair held his composure as he sat in front of Queen Konstanze. He’d known something was wrong when the messenger recommended he consider why Konstanze asked to meet with him. He’d understood at once. The hint was that Konstanze wanted to see him and not Eilidh. That told him she’d been made aware of Eilidh’s condition. An even bigger shock hit when she revealed how she’d come upon the information.
Her words punched him in the gut. Of course, he’d never trusted Koen, but to hear he’d actually tried to sell Eilidh out infuriated Griogair. And the lies he’d spun!
“You find this easy to believe, it seems,” Konstanze said, her eyebrow arching with amusement.
“I can’t deny my reaction is more one of disappointment than surprise. What does intrigue me is your part in this. Why tell me?”
Konstanze studied Griogair. “If you are as ruthless as Koen claimed, would it not be wiser to ensure you became an ally rather than an enemy?”
“And if I’m not?” That Koen claimed Griogair had a hand in Munro’s death angered Griogair only slightly less than the implication he planned to harm Maiya.
“Then Prince Koen is a ridiculous, scheming toad, and I should be grateful you have the duty of dealing with him, rather than it being my responsibility.” She paused. “In truth, I believe the latter to be the case. Nothing I’ve observed about you
indicates you possess such unrestrained ambition.”
He detected something in her voice. Disappointment? She herself was an ambitious queen, a powerful one. Why would she regret that Griogair wasn’t a kindred soul? Wouldn’t he be a threat to her if he did have designs on the throne to the extent of reaching his influence to Zalia? “My ambitions are restricted to the welfare of Caledonia,” he said.
“And her queen,” Konstanze said. “I hope Prince Koen’s description of your mate’s state was exaggerated, like so many of his claims.”
Does she? Griogair wondered. Even though Konstanze exposed Koen’s plot rather than acting on it, he didn’t trust her enough to reveal the truth of Eilidh’s condition. “It’s to be expected the death of Quinton Munro would cause her great distress. Bonding magic mystifies even the Keepers, but one thing we do understand is the link between souls is not meant to be severed.”
Konstanze nodded. “What will you do with Koen?” she asked.
Griogair frowned. Why did she care? Was she testing how ruthless Griogair would be? “That decision will fall to Eilidh,” he said carefully. “She will be pleased at your good faith.”
“And yours, I expect.” Konstanze stood, indicating the meeting had come to an end. “Prince Griogair,” she began. “Should the day come when you are burdened with the Caledonian throne, I hope you will remember you can rely on the friendship of Ashkyne.”
Following her lead, he stood and prepared to go. “Of course, Your Majesty,” he said. Something in her subtle gestures made him wonder if she was offering more than friendship. Was he reading too much into a minute movement? With a word of thanks and a bow, he left the Ashkyne Hall and returned to the Caledonian Hall.
Due to grief and worry, he wasn’t clear-headed enough to fully comprehend what had taken place. Konstanze was a master of political machinations who made him look like an absolute novice. She wanted something, but clearly she was playing a long game. Pondering as he walked toward his study, he changed direction and headed to Eilidh’s office instead. When he encountered a steward on the way, Griogair signalled to him. “Send the Watcher wen-lei to the queen’s study at once, then find Elder Oron and ask him to join us.”
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