Chapter 3
WHEN HE got tired of sitting in the one-room dwelling he shared with Querry and Frolic, Reg decided to take a walk along the rocky coastline. He’d swept out the hearth, washed the glasses, wiped down the table, and dusted off their few possessions. Basically, he’d exhausted every distraction the humble dwelling provided.
One thing he missed about Halcyon was the availability of books and newspapers. As Chief Royal Archivist, he’d had access to an amazing diversity of material, and his status allowed him to line the walls of his study in handsome, leather-bound volumes. After work, he’d often sat with a brandy, reading late into the night. His interests were eclectic: he enjoyed treatises on scientific theory, travel anecdotes, biographies, history, especially of the ancient world, and of course, fiction, anything that could capture his mind and whisk him away from his mundane and unsatisfying life for an evening.
His life wasn’t mundane any longer, and now he had Querry and Frolic. As Reg wandered along the coast, past an overturned rowboat and nets left out to dry, nothing broke the silence but the roar of the high tide crashing against the cliffs farther off and rolling over the gravelly shore. He’d always found the seaside calming, and here it was cleaner and quieter than in Halcyon. The stars burned brighter than he could have ever imagined back beneath the gaslight and smog. He liked the little Thalacean port, could see them making a life together here. Even so, he couldn’t calm his mind tonight as he picked his way along the beach.
He missed his books. Without them to occupy his mind, Reg’s thoughts wandered. He made his way across a smooth, flat stone jutting out a few feet over the water, sat on the surface, still slightly warm from the intense heat of the day, slipped off his shoes and socks, and let his feet dangle into the tepid, foamy surf. In the distance, a foghorn sounded from some unseen ship. Reg looked out over the water and thought about his home so far across it. For Querry and Frolic, he’d given up the sweet, green fields of Anglica, the muted, gray skies and rich loam that fed the old trees, thick brush, moss, and ferns beneath it. Never, in the rest of his life, would he walk across a meadow in the cool, silver fog of an Anglican morning. He didn’t regret it—he convinced himself he wasn’t sorry—but he couldn’t help reminiscing about his home, his real home, before he’d come to the filthy back alleys of Halcyon.
Reg had only one real memory of his father. He returned to it tonight as he sometimes did. It was late summer, and for some reason Reggie senior hadn’t left for the fields before his son awoke. They spent a rare day together, wandering through the forest with shafts of golden light breaking through the thick leaves, Reg searching the ground for a suitable branch to use as a sword, and his father filling a metal pail with berries. They chased frogs across the little streams tumbling over the round, gray stones and ate bread and sausages for lunch. Afterward, Reg hid among the high wheat, crouched low with his hand pressed over his mouth so his father wouldn’t hear him giggle. After what seemed like an excruciating period of time, Reg’s father swooped down and tickled his ribs until Reg couldn’t breathe from laughing.
Then he kissed Reg’s sweaty, slightly sunburned forehead and said, “I love ya, boy.”
They laid there looking at the sky. Reg would never forget the way the wheat looked in the late-day sun: hazy, golden, and almost glowing as it swayed in the soft breeze. His father’s hair was just that color, as was Reg’s now. Finally, Reg’s father scooped him up and sat Reg on his shoulder to walk back to their simple cottage. Reg thought he could see the whole world from his perch.
Whenever he remembered that perfect day, Reg wondered how he might be different if he’d had his parents to raise him, his father to teach him to be a good man. How would he have turned out had he been protected and cherished? Would he be the same person as today?
Back then, he’d never imagined life could be a crushing monotony of toil or that people could be so cruel. After the fever took his parents, some relatives kept him for a time because they needed help with the autumn harvest. Then they passed him off to other short-handed farms. Reg learned quickly his only value lay in the crops he could sow or the hay he could cut down. They viewed him as little more than a piece of equipment. Eventually, they all threw him away. Reg didn’t fear being abandoned, but he’d come to expect it. With his parents gone, he knew no one would ever care about him or want him just for him. To others, he was something to use.
He learned suspicion and to defend himself. No one else cared what happened to him, not until he met a black-haired boy with gem-like blue eyes, burning with so much passion it scared Reg at first, like it might scorch him if he got too close. But he got close, because he knew Querry would protect him with his life. He knew Querry would never leave him. Querry wanted him exactly as he was. Back then, Reg thought Querry almost supernatural, and doubted even death could stand in his way. Reg was self-reliant; he didn’t need Querry, but he wanted him, and almost as soon as he saw him, he loved him.
Then Querry’d found Frolic, so extraordinarily beautiful, so innocent and full of wonder at the world. The clockwork boy had desired Reg so earnestly and made him feel so special. Frolic gave Reg something he hadn’t even known was missing. Now, he had people to treasure and protect, who’d adore him and keep him safe in return. He had so much love in his life now, when he’d never expected any at all.
Still, when they went off without him and put themselves in danger, Reg felt alone again. They ignored his need to feel included, not that he wanted to learn to grapple up walls or pick locks. He wondered if they knew how much he worried while they were gone. After the events in Halcyon, Querry considered himself untouchable. Reg sometimes thought Querry would have gone to the noose years ago if not for Reg to make him see reason.
Reg wriggled his toes in the briny water. All he wanted was a long, safe life with the men he loved. He’d be satisfied spending it here, as long as they could be together. Querry couldn’t be satisfied. He needed adventure, danger even, and now Frolic did too. It felt unfair. Reg’s desires, while simple compared to their grandiose schemes, were no less valid, and he needed to make them understand.
Still, he knew what Querry and Frolic were, and he had to accept it on some level. He’d chosen to be with them, and he couldn’t pick the traits he admired in them and cut away the rest. In truth, he wouldn’t want to change anything about them. Reg took a deep breath and pushed his sea-damp fringe out of his eyes. Then he stood and stretched before hopping from the rock to the beach below. The jagged stones bit his soles, and he chuckled at his own foolishness as he slipped into his stockings and boots. His partners would be fine. Querry could be reckless, but he wasn’t a fool. Reg decided to accept his partners and stop judging them. They had never judged him or told him what to do. He owed them his approval and understanding, and they owed him theirs. They’d give it, he felt certain. They’d gotten through worse together.
A candle burned in their single window when Reg reached the house. He’d snuffed them all before he left. He grinned like a boy with a pocketful of sweets, and his pulse sped up. Querry and Frolic had come home early. Visions of how they might spend the evening hours filled Reg’s head until they spilled down his spine, all the way to the root of his body, making him tremble in anticipation. Perhaps talking could wait awhile. He hurried inside, but the sight of his partners doused the flicker of arousal he’d felt.
Querry stood with his gloved palm resting on the table, beads of sweat sparkling on his upper lip and high cheekbones. Frolic sat in the corner by the hearth with his arms wrapped around his calves and his face buried between his knees. He didn’t lift his head as Reg closed the door, and Reg went to kneel down beside him and find out what bothered him. He’d made it about halfway across the small room when Querry spoke.
“We need to talk.”
A chill overtook Reg, as if he’d fallen into icy water. He struggled to catch his breath at the anxiety he heard in Querry’s voice. Querry didn’t get worried; he got angry. With his throa
t closed and his stomach tight, Reg couldn’t even ask Querry what he meant.
Frolic slowly lifted his head and met Reg’s gaze. His wide, golden eyes flitted to Querry, then back to Reg. If possible, he looked even paler as he rocked on the floor and worried his lower lip with his perfect teeth.
“Tell me,” Reg finally managed to croak.
Querry splashed some wine into a chipped cup with a shaking hand, spilling some over the smooth surface of the table. He downed it in a few deep gulps and wiped his mouth with the back of his bare, left hand. Some bloody gauze wound around his wrist.
“I—we had a spot of trouble, Reg. Nothing major. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“Trouble?” Reg’s voice sounded strangled and unfamiliar to him. “You couldn’t have been caught, or you wouldn’t be here, right? Unless you escaped? Are they looking for you? Oh hell. Querry, did you— Are they dead?”
“You automatically think I killed someone?” Querry scrunched his brows together, frowned, and crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s what you think of me?”
“I— No. You two are scaring me, though. Tell me everything’s fine.”
“I can’t quite say that.” Querry poured more wine with a slightly steadier hand and drank. It left his lips shiny and stained. He relayed the events of the evening gingerly at first, but as his tale continued, his confidence grew until it sounded almost like bragging. He gestured with his hands, demonstrating how he or Frolic had opened a lock or dipped into a shadow. When he described pearls the size of hen’s eggs and chests overflowing with gold and jewels, Reg felt a bit incredulous, but also a little bit proud.
Frolic smiled and said, “I still can’t understand why some things are worth so much more than others. I used to think beauty determined value, but the shells and sea glass I find on the beach are far lovelier than dull copper coins. I can’t comprehend how they can be worthless.”
Reg returned his smile. A glass jar of bits he’d scavenged along the coastline sat on the hearth, truly beautiful in the firelight. Still, Reg wouldn’t let them wiggle out of this so easily. “Let’s hear about the trouble.”
Querry explained about the magical trap, the exiled, aristocratic wizard, and the faerie servant. He described the details of the contract he and Frolic had entered into, summarizing it for his lover. At some point, Reg slumped into one of their rickety chairs, and Frolic stood behind him with his hand curled around Reg’s shoulder. Reg reached up and grasped Frolic’s warm, slender fingers, though he wasn’t really aware of moving at all as he tried to digest Querry’s words. They’d entered into an arrangement. It would last five years. Five years, or until one of them, or all of them, died. Died, in some hot, fetid jungle surrounded by savages. No, it had to be a joke—
Querry’s chuckle broke into Reg’s musings like a wave crashing against the beach and tossing the stones and shells into disarray. Reg’s thoughts flew into chaos. How could Querry find this horrifying situation amusing?
“So in the end, it might be a bit of fun after all. And we certainly stand to make some money. I won’t spend any of it. I’ll bring all of it back to you.” Querry said it like he’d be doing Reg a favor.
Reg couldn’t think. He couldn’t even hear anything but the blood rushing rhythmically through his veins, faster and faster as his anger increased to a point he’d never experienced. He balled his fists to stop his hands shaking. Before Reg’s mind could formulate an argument, his body responded. He leapt out of his chair, crossed the space separating him from Querry in two long strides, drew back, and hit Querry as hard as he could, splitting his skin against Querry’s teeth.
Querry’s head jerked back, and he stumbled a few steps before his knees hit the edge of a chair, and he tumbled over it, landing hard on his back. Querry lay still for a few seconds before he sat up and mopped the blood from his split and swollen lower lip.
It took all the willpower Reg possessed not to dive on him and pummel him until his knuckles bled. Somewhere at the periphery of his anger, he felt Frolic’s hold on his elbow and heard Frolic’s pleading voice. Reg tore his arm out of Frolic’s grip and stood over Querry.
“You absolute ass! You think I want your money? Damn it, Querry! I had money. I was engaged to the daughter of a damned earl! I gave it up so you’d be safe. That’s all I want. You obviously don’t know anything about me, and you clearly don’t care what I want.”
He raised his torn, throbbing hand to strike Querry’s beautiful face again. Querry didn’t flinch or try to shield himself with his arms. It just made Reg angrier, the idea Querry would just sit back and take it. He wasn’t afraid.
“You think I can’t hurt you?” Reg shouted as he bent down to seize a handful of Querry’s black hair.
“I know you can hurt me,” Querry said, his gaze locking with Reg’s. “You can destroy me. You might be the only thing that can.”
“Damn it.” Reg let go of Querry’s locks and raked his fingers through his own as he staggered back to his feet. “After all the boasting you do about being beholden to no one, as free as an alley cat, you do something like this. This bastard owns you, Querry. Frolic too. You expect me not to be upset about that?”
“Reggie, I didn’t have much choice.”
“You could have chosen not to go in the first place. You just think too bloody well of yourself to get honest work like everyone else. I’d wager you’ve finally realized you aren’t untouchable. A shame you dragged Frolic down with you. You’ve really done it this time. You know that, Querry?”
“I know.”
Reg turned away from him, betrayal, fear, and anger pulling him in every direction. He tore a shard from his thumbnail and spit it into the fireplace.
Frolic caught his arms, pulled him close, and nestled his face against Reg’s chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never want to be away from you, Reggie. You mean everything to me. You and Querry are everything.”
Reg softened, his rage ebbing away like the tide at Frolic’s sweet voice. He let Frolic pull him into an embrace, and he kissed Frolic’s forehead just where his ivory skin met his silver hair. Frolic made a little sound of delight and satisfaction, and Reg whispered, “I don’t blame you.”
Though Frolic didn’t pull away, he stiffened. “You should. I can make decisions for myself, the same as Querry. I’m not just his little clockwork sidekick.”
“I didn’t mean—” Reg pulled away from Frolic so he could look into Frolic’s eyes. He saw so many conflicting emotions behind them he didn’t know how to begin sorting them out. “Damn it, Frolic, I love you.”
“I know, Reggie. Talk to Querry. Please.”
Reg looked at Querry, the person he’d counted on since he’d been a boy, the person he almost idolized as invincible, sprawled on the dusty, chipped tile floor. Querry licked his broken lip, and his bright blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears. Overall, he looked terrified. For the first time, Reg realized how much power he wielded over Querry. Nothing had influence over Querry, yet he did. If he so chose, Reg could shatter Querry’s world. He didn’t want such a power, so he surrendered it. In that moment, Reg chose not to ever use Querry’s devotion to him to hurt his oldest friend.
“Reggie?” Querry whispered, reaching out but not attempting to touch Reg. “You mean so much to me. You’ll never know. Shit, I don’t expect you to wait five years for us. I can’t ask you to do that.”
Reg kneaded his lower back with his thumbs. He dug around inside himself, searching for his anger, but he couldn’t find it. The people he loved were hurting, and he felt only sympathy.
“No, Querry, you can’t ask me to wait. I certainly won’t wait.” Reg crouched by the bed and dragged out a wooden ammunition box left over from the war with the Belvaisian emperor. He tossed the lid back and took from within his two antique pistols with the mother of pearl handles. Digging through the contents, through everything left of his life in Anglica, Reg found the stiff, leather belt and holster. He stood and strapped it around his
hips, and then he placed the guns in their positions at his sides. Turning to Querry and Frolic, he said, “When do we leave, then?”
Querry struggled to his feet with the help of the tabletop. He gripped it hard to stop his swaying. “What are you saying, love?”
Reg draped his arm across Querry’s slender but strong shoulders. He reached out, and Frolic insinuated himself beneath Reg’s other arm, his face resting against Reg’s chest. Reg kissed the top of Frolic’s head, burying his face in the chaos of his curls. Then he pressed his lips to Querry’s fine, dark brow.
“I’m a part of this,” Reg said. “I’m coming with you so that I can keep your damned fool asses out of trouble. I can’t believe you thought you could leave me behind.”
Both of them wrapped their arms around Reg’s neck and waist, pulling them together until their hipbones jabbed into each other, and their groins stood only a few maddening inches apart. All at once, their lips came together, and their mouths opened, all three tongues twining together in a hot, wet knot. Reg pulled away when he tasted blood.
“I’m sorry I hit you, Querry,” he said, looking at his sand-caked boots.
“I deserved it. I know I messed up. But we can do this, especially the three of us together. Look what we’ve managed before. We’ll come back rich.”
“Let’s just ensure we come back at all,” Reg said, still uneasy about the prospect.
“I’ll make sure of it, Reggie.” Querry clutched Reg’s wrist fiercely, possessively. “I swear, I’ll never let anything happen to you. Nothing will stop me from protecting you.”
“Or me,” Frolic said. “I can’t lose either of you. I won’t let anything take you from me.”
Chapter 4
A Grimoire for the Baron Page 4
