Unable to meet the surprised stares of two young priestesses as they passed him, Mayr forced his legs to move him through the hallway. He battled the urge to punch and kick the walls, the conversation repeating in his mind. At the end of it, you're just like everyone else. Tell me again you don't want to take me down with you, because that's another big lie. You already have.
Chapter Ten
The dining room looks better this way, all dark and empty and blurry and weird, Mayr decided, pain shooting down his spine as he craned his neck to the side and back to study the ceiling. The silhouettes of the beams wavered, lit by the faint yellow light from a torch in the hallway. He guzzled the last of the spiced ale from the metal decanter and wiped his lips on his sleeve. As he peered inside, he shook the decanter. Empty. He tossed the decanter behind him.
The decanter clanged on the floor. A shriek pierced the air. Small clawed feet scurried across the floor. Either the verrapossum hated metal or Mayr had almost taken its furry black head off.
"Sorry, little friend," Mayr apologized, grabbing the next decanter in the line next to him on the dining table. Meant to seat twelve, the table supported his weight without protest. Good table. Good choice, Korre. You always knew how to pick them. He eyed the three chairs on the floor to his left, knocked over from when he had climbed onto the table. Your chairs are a bit drunk, though.
He sniffed the decanter. Berry mead from the previous summer's harvest—more Lira's drink than his. Better than nothing. Gripping the full decanter with both hands, he drank back the mead until it threatened to come back up with everything else he had consumed. I hate this stuff. Mayr thrust the decanter toward the verrapossum—at least where he thought it was. "You want it?"
Silence.
"Yeah, guess not. Doesn't go well with grass. Wait, no." Lips twisting, he stared at the red wall. "Dirt? Fruit? Little tiny wriggly things? Hey, what do you eat?" Mayr leaned over the edge of the table, wishing he could see the beady green eyes that could be looking back at him.
The table creaked. The floor swam in his vision. Dizziness nearly forced him over the edge.
He sat back and held out both arms until he steadied. "Never mind. I won't be doing that again. And you're welcome for the bread. It's not exactly stale, and Cook will hate me in the morning, but go ahead. Enjoy it. I would, but I can't taste much else but this filth." He giggled and hugged the decanter. "Can't feel much, either. That's a good thing because that whole feeling thing? Isn't worth it. Paralyzed and numb. Now those, those I can do."
After another swill from the decanter, Mayr slammed it down and lay back, banging his head on the table. Mead sloshed over the rim and coated his fingers. Sharp pain raced from the back of his head to the front. He groaned and slapped his forehead with his dry hand. When the pain subsided, he peeked between his fingers to watch the thin light flicker across the wood ceiling. It was not as entertaining as Orae's tavern, but it would do.
Especially since she had kicked him out.
And I thought she liked me, horrible, mean old woman. Here I need a friend, and she goes and kicks me out. "I mean, what is that? I wasn't doing anything". No fights. Not even looking. Not even talking. "She was making good money off me. Lots of money. Lots and lots and lots and lots. But they knew. All of them—all—they knew. They looked at me, like they knew I was thrown outside… aside… whatever that stupid word is. They knew." Mayr pointed at the wall with a crooked finger. "But she said—she did—she said I couldn't stay there. Called me drunk and sent me home. Like my mother. But she's not my mother. So I listened to her like she was my mother because she knows my mother. Old ladies who know your mother can be mean and—and—and mean. But you still have to listen," he insisted, wagging his finger, "because the next thing you know, your face will end up in the bar and not in a good way."
He curled his arms into his chest. Vague, blurred images of stumbling home with Jesa's help flitted through his thoughts. She had left him at the bottom of the main staircase after he insisted he could get himself upstairs to his room without assistance. Once she was gone, he had glowered up the staircase, convinced his bedroom was full of shadows and invisible monsters he could not fight. He had gone to Orae's straight from the temple on purpose: to avoid the beasts inside his head and his room. The nauseating thought of surrendering to them had driven him to fetch the verrapossum from the garden, yell at the night watch to leave them alone, and hide in the dining room.
"Because I'm not done with you and your friends," Mayr told the decanter, searching for it with one hand. "Because no one else wants me, but you like me. And right now, I like you, so we should get together." He tapped his knuckles on the decanter. "Get it? Get together?" With a deep sigh, he struggled to bring the decanter to his lips without spilling mead over himself. "You have no sense of humour, you know."
Soft squeaks answered back from the floor behind him.
"Hey, I have a sense of humour. Don't say I don't." Mayr pointed at the corner where the verrapossum seemed to be, judging by the noises and the scratch of claws on wood. Or was it teeth? "I'm funny. I'm just no good at anything else. At least that's what they say. Always leaving. Always going away. Never happy with what I give. And that's stupid, because I give a lot. A. Lot. I give and give and they take and take and then they go and go and go."
Because I'm not good enough. Because I'm just getting worse. Wasted it as a kid. Wasted it on her. And I've wasted what I had left on him. Him, who chooses things that aren't even real—Goddesses who don't care what stupid little mortals do. We're nothing but tiny, little people They move up, down, over and over, crushing who we are just for fun. Because They're bored. Can't be alive forever and not get bored. So, sure, make the tiny people dance. He's being selfish over what we could have. Can't have. Because everyone else matters. Always everyone else.
"Can't be selfish in a different way, so he just pushed me out. Punched me in the whatever makes us feel this. I never asked for it. I just wanted him to take me, you know? Just ram it in and let me sort out the rest. Because I'd never done it. I've always been the one doing it. Just thought I'd stop being a coward. Because I am. Sometimes. Just when it comes to men I want to rip the pants off. And I did with him. I ripped them off and had him." Mayr touched his lips. Were his fingers actually shaking or was it a trick of the alcohol? "I can still taste him if I try." He sniffed the mead and stuck his tongue out. "He was so much better than this. Whose idea was it to serve this, anyway?"
Could just throw it out, but that'd be a waste. He gulped it back, hoping the faster he drank it, the faster he could move on to the next. Can't leave until it's gone. Not until I can't open my eyes. Can't go upstairs. Can't go… not where he's been. Not alone.
Alone. Again. Between him and death, he lost.
He threw the empty decanter at the wall.
"Don't fall for anyone, little furry friend. It doesn't work well. Infatuation's such a liar. Wicked. Lies." Mayr stared at the end of the table. "I really did think that's what it was. That it was just being with someone different. A man—very different—and a priest, and different kind of pers—pres—presonality. Person. Man. Thing. I figured, hey, it'll go away. Everything does, right? Ha. Right. It didn't. It just got out of control. Went absolutely insane. Took me with it, right down—right to there—right?"
And he said he loved me.
"But it doesn't matter, does it?" he whispered. "Love is easier as a word. Actually doing it… that's the lethal part. The part that kills your soul. Rips it out and spoils it so no one else wants it."
And I don't want it anymore.
Boots scuffed the floor in the hallway outside the dining room.
"Go away!" Mayr shouted. "No one asked you." Misery was one extra friend too many. He did not need anyone else to join in his drunken party or tell him what he should or should not do.
Two bodies entered the doorway. Aeley and Lira, Mayr realized, squinting to distinguish them. Even in the poor light, he saw Aeley's concern, the corners of
her mouth pulled down, her brows drawn close together. Beside her, Lira gaped. Their hair was loose and mussed. The opened neckline of Aeley's tunic showed more chest than usual, and she carried knives in her boots. Lira tightened her white dressing robe around her waist to better cover her nightdress.
"What are you doing here, oh, glor-i-ous, foul creatures of ni-i-i-ght," Mayr sang, off-key and loud. In his head, the tune made no sense. He strung notes together without caring what they were. "No one asked you he-re, so go a-way-ay-ay. Unless you bear a gift then I shall lo-o-ove you for-ev-er." The sound of his voice was ridiculous. The song was terrible, wherever it came from. He laughed at the absurdity of it all. Insanity was so painful it helped.
"We heard noises," Lira replied.
Aeley rushed into the room and stopped beside him. The displeasure on her face was obvious. She would beat him for something. Go for it. I'm sure I've got something coming for something. Oh, wait, for being this stupid, falling for him. Yeah, I deserve it.
"What is this, Mayr?" Aeley glanced around the room. "It's the middle of the night. What are doing on the table?" Horror flashed across her face and then disgust. "And why is a furry thing crawling across the floor?"
Mayr peered over the edge of the table. The verrapossum scrambled for the safety of a dark corner, wobbling on its stubby legs instead of turning around and bearing its sharp teeth. He smiled—at least he thought he did, assuming he really could still feel his face. "He's my friend. And it's cold outside. Just because I want to curl up and die doesn't mean he should."
"Lira, can you remove our guest?" Aeley asked sweetly through clenched jaws.
When Lira approached the verrapossum, Mayr stiffened. "Don't hurt him! He didn't do anything wrong!" Yes, his compassion may have been out of control on the way into the estate. Yes, he may have scooped the creature up, convinced it was shivering and appeared too thin to survive the colder nights. And yes, it could still die, but he did not bring it inside to have it killed. Not when he could do something, which was no more or less than what he would do for Hetlan or anything else that breathed. Tash might like being around plants, but I prefer animals, especially over people. I never told him that. Never will, now.
"I won't hurt him. I promise." Lira's softened gaze put Mayr at ease only slightly. "I'm just going to find him a safer place." She called to the verrapossum and urged it from its hiding spot. With quick hands, she grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and cradled it to her chest before hurrying from the room.
Aeley slipped her arm around Mayr's back. "Time for you to go to a safer place. Come on, with me," she instructed, coaxing him off the table. "That's it. I've got you."
"I thought we were good together." Certain his feet were on the ground, Mayr pushed up and held onto Aeley, one arm around her neck. "I agreed to it, being friends. I knew we couldn't sleep together, but I accepted it. Yeah, I fought with me daily about it, but then he killed it. Just like that. From friends to nothing. Just over." He moved toward the hallway, matching Aeley's steady footsteps with sloppy footfalls that worsened as his knees buckled.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Aeley mumbled, struggling to keep him upright. "But you should've told me, Mayr. You should've come to me. Not done whatever this is. I would've taken care of you."
"I know." Mayr nodded. "I'm a bad friend. Bad, bad friend." He hung his head. "Even worse boyfriend. Good thing you don't like me. Or at least what's in my pants. Because that would be really, really weird." He offered her a smile. "We make good friends, you and me. And it'll always be you and me because I love you. I love you. Not like I love anyone else, but I still love you. You're always here." Arm tightened around her neck, he kissed her temple. "Such a good friend."
Aeley coughed and pushed against his hold. "That's great. I'm honoured. Now, could you let me breathe?"
Mayr loosened his grip, his mouth falling open. "Oh! Sorry. Too tight."
"Just a little." Huffing, Aeley pulled on his arm, hoisting him higher before continuing forward. "Keep walking. That's it."
The moment Lira appeared from around the corner at the end of the corridor, Aeley beckoned Lira closer. "Can you—?"
Lira ran to Mayr and wrapped her arm around him, under Aeley's. She curled his arm around her neck and clutched his wrist, following Aeley's lead toward the main staircase. "Your friend is fine, Mayr. The guard's finding him a nice, warm space. No one will hurt him. The guard promises. She said you can ask her about it tomorrow."
"Thank you." Mayr leaned his head against Lira's, breathing her in. She always smelled good. But not like Tash, the one he wanted to be drunk on instead of the alcohol that did uncomfortable things in his stomach. Maybe he should have eaten more. He would feel it in the morning.
At least the alcohol can come back up and I'll feel better. He ripped my heart out. There's no getting that back.
"I never should've believed him." Mayr eyed the staircase on their approach. They were going to take him to the last place he wanted to be. But he was too tired to put up a fight. Aeley would take care of him. She would scare the shadows away and exterminate the monsters. "You should've heard what he said. So. Much. But he said he'd rather be a priest than be with me. No, no, no, no, no, no. Wait, wait, wait. No, this is even better: he'd rather die than be with me. Isn't that sweet? Best compliment I've ever had." He forced a laugh, the croaking sound dying in his throat. "Really, seriously. Best thing I've heard. Ever. Even better than Betta and she didn't say a word."
Aeley grunted, guiding him up the stairs. "I don't think he said that. Even if he did, I'm pretty sure he didn't mean it."
Mayr stopped to pull Aeley into him. "Why does everyone leave me? Am I that horrible?"
"You're not. You're only a big pain to me. No one else should be leaving you, not like I should. They just don't know what's good for them." Aeley smiled sadly. "They're blind as anything, Mayr. Eyes, ears, hearts. They take you for granted."
"Yeah, they do." Mayr forced his feet to take each step. Bed sounded like a good place after all. His head pounded and every time he swallowed, he tasted the disgusting mead.
Lira tugged him closer despite the awkwardness of dragging him up the stairs. "I'm sorry, Mayr, for whatever happened. I didn't think I'd ever see you like this." She was not subtle with her glance over his head to Aeley. He could imagine the pity on her face. Pity he did not need.
"I have," Aeley said, "over that ungrateful whore, Betta."
"Betta?"
Mayr laughed at Lira's surprise. Maybe he would tell her the story one day. Or maybe he would let Aeley do it since she saw Betta last. Perhaps she would reveal to Lira where Betta was. He had too many things to say to his former not-wife, and he wanted to say them to her face just to see if she showed any sign of regret. "You know, I saved coins for days and days and days to buy the baby something nice. Yeah, Ili-lily couldn't wear the necklace, but it was too pretty, just like her. I still have it, Ili's necklace. Still my… Still… Stupid Betta. Sent her away before I could give it. Mean Betta. Worst wife ever."
"Yeah, I know." At the top of the stairs, Aeley shifted her body and Mayr's, getting a better hold on him. "We're almost there. See? There's your door. Nice and close. Just a little further then you can take a good, long sleep."
"Why are you the only one who sees any worth in me?"
"What is this?" Lira's question was thick with disbelief. "I thought you were always so confident? Too sexy and smart for your own good. You remind us of it constantly."
Mayr choked on a laugh. "You think I actually believe that? Really? The best lies I've ever told—and you bought it. Better than when I stole all of Ae's alcohol. Needed to stop her drowning and being a flabberjittering idiot."
"Except it worked," Aeley muttered, "and that's not even a word."
"I think you're lying," Lira added.
"No, seriously, she's right." Mayr nodded. "I make up drunk when I'm words. Plus she was swimming in it and—"
"No, you." Lira slapped his hand. "You honest
ly want us to believe you were lying about yourself the whole time?"
Mayr failed at his attempt to shrug, his muscles strained in the process. "Figured if I said it enough, I'd make truth. I'm a mess."
"That's not true," Lira argued, glaring at him. "Regardless of this disturbing version of sulking and weeping, you're better than a lot of men I know. Strong, dependable, caring, fun to be with—"
"A better brother than ours ever were," Aeley interjected.
Lira snorted. "If things were different, I'd have you myself."
Stopped in front of his bedroom door, Mayr giggled at the idea of him and Lira. "Yeah, but you're married. And you don't do men. If you did, Ae'd kick my head in."
Aeley opened the door. "You and Pell, both. And the rest of the guards." She pulled Mayr into the moonlit room and pushed him toward his bed, still tidy from the morning he had left with Tash. Once Mayr sat on the bed, she yanked off his boots and tossed them aside. "Stay still." He obeyed as she removed his belts and shirt. "Get under the covers and go to sleep," she commanded, snapping her fingers and pointing at his pillows.
"Going to read me a story, too?" he teased. Still, he obeyed and crawled under the cool blankets. His pillows were more comfortable than he remembered them being. They called to him, offering what he needed most right then.
"Keep being cute and I'll punch you out." Arms crossed, Aeley leaned against the wall beside the glass window pane.
"Wouldn't be the first time." Mayr yawned, stretched, and curled his arms around his pillow. "Won't be the last. We're stuck… you and me…" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wishing the images of Tash out of his memories. "Don't need… no one. Just you and…"
The last word never left his lips as the darkness behind his eyelids conquered his thoughts. There would be time to say them a different day—one when he was not broken.
*~*~*
Everything hurt.
No, not everything. Just my head and my pride. And my foot from kicking that stupid door. Mayr groaned and covered his face with both hands, hiding his dry eyes from the morning light. Memories of the night before assaulted him. Guilt screamed. His conscience tore into him with the blunt knives of regret. He remembered everything. No amount of alcohol could make him forget what had happened. The entire day had been a disaster, and he was an idiot. What I said… did… It wasn't easy for him, either. I saw it. I felt it. I didn't make it any better. I shouldn't have done anything. I shouldn't have said anything. But I did, and I can't take it back.
Four Page 21
