In All of Infinity

by H. R. Holt

  “I’m going to marry her one of these days,” he said sincerely. “I am. I just haven’t had time to think about it until now. She said she’ll have me, no matter what…”

  “I am going to heal you, Otis, but what I do should never leave this room. Do you understand?”

  “Are you going to…” He moved his hands down his legs, and Windrew knew what he was trying to say. “Are you going to heal all of me?”

  Windrew nodded. He lifted his hands above the other man and closed his eyes. He began moving slowly, sweat forming first on his brow. When he reached the place where the organ had been severed, he began sweating profusely. He would need to rest afterwards, which was why they had stopped. He always needed to rest after growing something, although such hadn’t always been the case. When he was younger, he could heal and go without a problem. Despite this, most of his powers weren’t fully functional until he turned forty.

  When he at last opened his eyes, he saw that the man’s member was back. Since he found it awkward to smile at his handiwork, he didn’t and instead gestured towards the closet.

  “Get dressed.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Bed,” Windrew said and walked out. “Don’t plan on leaving here, though. I have to deal with taking you back to Ms. Ojala. She wants to see you.”

  “I won’t leave,” he said and bounded off the bed. He walked towards the closet then looked towards the wizard. “Thanks for everything. I mean, for doing what you did…”

  Windrew’s answer was a nod. He didn’t really feel like speaking, and knew the younger man wouldn’t mind his silence. After all, wasn’t it all in a healer’s work to actually repair someone? He didn’t care to answer the question because he was too tired to think and stumbled out the door and into the next bedroom.

  ***

  When Reverie stopped bleeding at last, Isaac sat down in a chair beside her bed. He sighed as he watched her, wondering how long until Windrew would return. There was only so much Isaac could do, and, since he didn’t know how to use his abilities, he didn’t want to try them only to have them backfire. He wished he knew more about Nadia, but the only known books that contained her had been burnt years ago. The wizards he spoke to said it was because saying her name could cause her to appear, which they didn’t want to happen. Isaac often wondered how they would react if he told them of the magic he thought he possessed. He merely knew he had powers, just as he could detect Reverie had them. How could he sense them but not know what they were?

  He sat in the ladder-back chair, watching her as she lay on the bed, her head sunk into the pillows. She looked more mature than the girl he remembered, in more ways than how she was dressed and how her face was made up. The line of her jaw made her appear strict; the slenderness of her neck made her seem more fragile; and the curves of her body were fuller than he remembered. He didn’t want to watch the steady rise of her bust, but he couldn’t help it and finally found his eyes settling there. When she had asked him what his intentions were, he had only been sure that he wanted to be with her. Why? Was there more to it than he’d assumed?

  Isaac felt an urge to kiss her, so he sat on the snug bedspread and sunk slightly into the feather mattress. He looked at her and moved closer, putting one hand on the opposite side of her waist. He began lowering himself slowly, then pulled away and jumped off the bed as if he’d been shocked. As he ran his hands through his hair, he passed back and forward in front of the window, cursing himself in a whisper. There she was, asleep, waiting for him to wake her, but yet she wasn’t there. The body was hers but that was all.

  He looked out the window, wondered where Windrew was, and had mixed feelings for the occupant of the room. If he stayed, would she awake and be Ediniah or would she be Reverie? If Ediniah, he knew she would attempt seduction, but what had that playful display been earlier? Was that Ediniah or Reverie? If Reverie awoke instead, and he was gone, she would be forced to roam a world she was unfamiliar with and eventually be seen as an insane person. He couldn’t have that. He wouldn’t. He had to stay and wait it out, even if it meant his surrender.

  The doorknob began turning, causing him to jump, and he dashed under the bed. As he lay there, he felt as if he was still standing beside the door. He never thought he could move so fast.

  “Ediniah, are you awake?”

  The voice was female, but he wasn’t familiar with the owner of it. He listened as her dress rustled, then heard the door close. For a moment, he assumed she had disappeared, but then he saw a shadow to his left and knew she was there. He recalled seeing some of the servants earlier, but none of them had taken note of him. Was Ediniah so indecent that they never said anything about her male escorts? He hoped such wasn’t the case, but he couldn’t stop thinking it was.

  “Oh, you are so beautiful. I cannot believe that you’re a virgin. I know this will make it double the pleasure for me,” the girl whispered.

  His eyes widened. If Ediniah was a completely different person from Reverie, wouldn’t that mean she was lewd? He didn’t recall Reverie ever being inappropriate. Had there been something he’d missed? Was Windrew wrong again? Isaac had a feeling that the wizard wasn’t wrong on either account. He knew it had to do with the powers Reverie possessed.

  Just as the girl dropped her dress, the door opened again, and words immediately followed: “What are you doing in here, you licentious wench?”

  “Nothing, sire,” she whispered as she gathered her dress. Isaac listened to the sound of her dress as she moved away. “I didn’t know you were planning on returning this evening for the banquet.”

  The man slapped her and she whimpered. The paid no heed to the fact Reverie lay unconscious on the bed. Isaac found this awkward, almost as if they knew she was under a spell of sorts. Or did she usually sleep deeply?

  “I am the duke! Of course I’m present for the banquet!” Isaac heard fabric tear and the girl began sobbing. “You will not be there, though, I will assure you of that. Stealing my daughter’s clothes! I should have you hanged!”

  “I didn’t—”

  He slapped her again. “Get out. Let my daughter sleep.”

  Isaac listened as they both departed, and then found that he was blinking. He couldn’t explain what had been going on, but he tried to process it. When at last his thoughts concluded, he simply wanted to leave Peniolea and take Reverie with him. He knew that he had been inhaling the evil that lingered in the air, which made him think cruel thoughts and come close to committing them. He had to literally pull himself back from taking advantage of Reverie only moments ago, and the girl, whoever she’d been, was obviously the same. If the man of the house hadn’t come when he did, Reverie would have been violated, either by a man or a woman. Isaac didn’t understand it and he didn’t want to. He wanted to get as far from Peniolea as he possible, or else he would do something he’d regret.

  Just as he was attempting to leave, two hands grabbed his ankles and pulled him from under the bed. His jaw collided with the foot of the bed and he bit his tongue, making him taste blood in his mouth. His attacker was a tall, barrel-sized man with facial hair and dark feral eyes. He smiled as he reached down, began squeezing Isaac’s throat as if it were putty.

  “I heard you killed my brother,” he said with a smile. “Try me on for size!”

  He slammed his head into Isaac’s face, causing his victim’s eyes to cross as he struggled to stay awake. Isaac pulled his sword from his hilt, blood pouring down his nose, but the man threw him against the wall and he dropped his weapon.

  Isaac groaned as he tried pulling himself to his feet, but the man advanced and kicked him in the groin. Isaac fell over, groping and moaning, feeling as if the man’s foot had been a bat while his manhood had been the baseball. He attempted to reach over and grab his sword, but came short in succeeding.

  “I bet you don’t have the balls to use that sword now, eh?” the man laughed, again grabbing him by his throat with both hands. He smiled as Isaac’s face beg
an turning red, while blood still gushed from his broken nose. Isaac continued fighting but knew he was no match for his opponent.

  “Speak of evil; speak of naught,” the voice came from the bed. Isaac glanced over, furrowed his brow, and realized Reverie was talking to his attacker. “Speak of bone; speak of rot.”

  The man dropped Isaac, seeing that his hands were now only bone. He rushed towards the bed, began crawling towards Reverie, his eyes filled with sadness. He wanted to be forgiven. He wanted to live. Isaac stared at Reverie, knowing she was feeling with the man, even if he wanted to kill. He began wondering how long she’d known about her powers, if she was using them to kill for a first time or if she had killed someone before. As he rubbed his neck, Isaac realized that he didn’t know. He turned from the sadness in her eyes and stared at the door.

  “Forgive—” the man started. He exploded into dust, which scattered all about the bed then settled there, the remnants of a man never to exist again.

  “I cannot explain myself to you,” she said at last. “Please don’t ask me to try.”

  Isaac looked at her, realized how sincere she was. He had no doubt in his mind that Ediniah had returned, but there was a part of the expression she wore that belonged to Reverie. He wanted to delve deeper into her, pull his childhood sweetheart from whatever recess she was placed. As soon as he thought this, Ediniah bounded off the bed and adjusted her dress, acting as if nothing terrible had happened.

  “I’ll have a maid clean that mess up. You better fix up that nose of yours if you’re planning to come to the banquet tonight. Are you planning to come? I’ll have my father’s tailor fix you right up. Where are your friends? Surely they should be back by now?”

  Reverie didn’t wait for him to respond. She walked over the torn dress in the middle of the floor and towards the door. Before she exited, she looked over her shoulder and stared at him, lost. He knew he would have to stay, but doubted he would ever be able to see his Reverie again.

  ***

  As the sun began setting, Thomas felt himself being pulled away from all the social gatherings in Peniolea. He claimed that he didn’t want anything to do with anyone, but that was a lie. Luella wanted him to stay indoors, sit around with his aged advisors, eat zuelcha, drink xatari, and do her bidding. The food was always awful whenever there wasn’t any meat, which made zuelcha no exception. It always tasted grainy and bland, and his glass of xatari, though often refreshing, smelled like sour milk and merely added to his mood by being bitter.

  After they ate dinner, they sat around giving him updates about one battle here, one battle there; a victory here, a victory there. When they informed him about something his brother did, Thomas felt himself envying Windrew. He surely wasn’t in a room somewhere, being bored by hearing the same old news. He was probably preparing for his next step, determined to fight the good fight even when it was a losing one. Still, there was excitement in his life, and that was something Thomas’s very existence was lacking.

  Thomas stared at the four advisors seated at the black marble table that was so low that it was almost on the floor. He knew most of them would struggle to stand back up from their cushions, and complain about age and its debilitating effects on them. Mortals were predictable in a way that, once they got old, they were all pretty much the same. He grew bored of being able to predict anything.

  When darkness settled in at last, they stood and grumbled just as he predicted. He watched them go, sipping his xatari, and hid his smile behind the dark liquid. He couldn’t understand how the other rulers could deal with old advisors or counselors. In Magaren, Draven Ovile seemed content with the elderly who worked for him. Of course, that was probably because he still had control of Frost, who, he often claimed, was fantastic in bed. Thomas didn’t have anyone who interested him, except for Reverie, and he couldn’t have her.

  “You called for me, sire?”

  He looked past the well lit table and into the darkness. He knew that the servant girl he requested was standing there. With a wave of his hand, a roaring flame alighted in the fireplace near the door. Thomas smiled when she jumped, then he gestured for her to approach.

  “Please sit,” he said and pat one of the cushions. He began pouring her a drink. “I don’t bite. Much. What’s your name, fair child?”

  “Deona,” she answered, sitting.

  He handed her the drink stared at her, observing the brilliance of her eyes and let his own drift down to her marvelous flesh. He looked into her eyes once more, saw that she was afraid. He liked them afraid.

  “Do you know why I summoned you?” he asked. “Please, sip the zuelcha. I don’t want for its flavor to evaporate before you can try it, Deona.”

  He watched her drink, admiring her profile as he did. When a single drop dribbled off her chin, he reached over and caught it before it touched her flesh. Deona looked at him, startled. He lifted his finger to his lips and licked it, then examined its tip.

  “Do you know why I summoned you?” he repeated. “I made it quite clear, if memory serves.”

  “I was sent to please you,” she answered with a blush. “I am sorry to tell you this, but I cannot please you. I am but a virgin and know not of passionate ways.”

  He smiled wickedly. “All the better, child. All the better.”

  Thomas ran his hand along the top of her breasts, feeling their smoothness and how alive with movement they were as she breathed heavily. He tore open the front of her dress and she nearly jumped because his movement was so sudden. Thomas shushed her, told her not to move. He groped at them now that the fabric was no longer concealing them, felt the nipples tighten as he ran his finger over them.

  “Stand,” he said and sipped his wine. The door opened again and a nude man came into the room. When they were standing side by side, he smiled. “Entertain me.”

  The man tore the rest of Deona’s clothes off. Thomas looked at her mound, recognized how young she truly was and that she was already wet from the excitement. He laughed when they fell to the floor and the man spread her legs, began stuffing her cunt with zuelcha and began eating it.

  “Good show. Good show,” Thomas said, clapping.

  He waited until the man exploded inside of her and she escalated when he dismissed the man and went to her. After he stripped, he knelt beside her and ran his hands through her hair, feeling the sweat. He demanded her to kneel on all fours and rammed his bulging member into her over and over, knowing she was feeling pain. Pain excited him. He loved pain. Wasn’t this the sort of hurting that had killed his mother?

  “Stop,” she whined. “Stop.”

  He turned her over and stuck himself inside her. Deona began clawing at him, trying to push him away, but he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He needed a son! How could his brother have sons and he couldn’t?

  By the time he stopped, she was long dead. His snake had released a flame that had consumed her insides. He pulled himself away and looked down at her, wiping sweat from his brow. Her eyes stared fixated at the ceiling. Their deaths were always the same and so was his reaction.

  “You were good while you lasted,” he said and went towards his table. He picked up her glass of xatari and swallowed it whole, then picked up a knife from the table. “Wife, dearest, I’ve had a long day. What’s for dinner? Oh, that’s right: you are!”

  ***

  The night fell slowly and Peniolea opened up to the celebrations, which were all regarding the foundation of the land they loved. The largest was always held at the Ojala place, where more than the usual were gathered this evening. Windrew brought Otis back, who explained to Reverie that he was in love with Mona. She merely smiled and said that she knew and that she was merely glad he was fighting fit. Although Lodenau, the duke, didn’t want his daughter to hang around such vagabonds, she convinced him rather easily. Isaac knew she had used her abilities, which he hadn’t been able to tell Windrew about.

  Once Windrew fixed his nose, Isaac went outside and roamed the grounds, amazed by
the amount of preparation that had gone into the celebration. It was like Independence Day without the fireworks, which were replaced by skilled magicians using their powers for anything and everything possible. Isaac felt out of place on the Cathene Continent no matter where he went, because he knew what he saw would be considered insane by those who once knew him. He felt worse than ever tonight, thinking that this was the end of a large part of his life. He knew it had taken long enough, his search for Reverie, and it was about time that he realized she truly was lost.