by Amanda Fleet
Ten minutes later, we sat on the floor to eat, while a kettle of water heated up. Faran cleared his plate, looking a little perplexed, but he didn’t pass comment. For me, eating baked beans brought a wave of nostalgia flooding back. I think I enjoyed the meal significantly more than Faran did. At least until we got to the toast and honey, which he polished off with huge relish.
I used some of the water to wash up and left the rest to cool to drink later. Faran stoked the fire. The wood he’d brought was damp, and smoke bloomed out of the stove as he added it, nipping my eyes.
The washing up done, I sat on the floor next to him, in front of the stove. He gazed at me, the intensity of his expression making my stomach flip.
His breath hitched in his chest. “I need you. Hold me?”
He dipped his head to let me rub the back of his neck. I wrapped my arms around him, and he rested his weight against me.
“Can I kiss you?” he murmured.
I smiled. “You’ve been kissing me all night. Between every breath pretty much, before I opened my eyes.”
He raised his head, surprise flashing across his face.
“I was paralysed, not unconscious,” I said, one brow raised.
“You heard everything I said?”
“Mm.”
He blushed.
“I particularly liked the story about the marriage adviser,” I said, watching his blush deepen.
“I thought you were unconscious.”
“No. I heard it all. But going back to your original question – yes.”
He leaned in and dusted my lips with his before drawing back. I smiled. “I know you can do better than that!”
He kissed me gently for a moment before sliding his hand into my hair and pulling me into a deeper kiss, his tongue caressing mine. His other arm wound around me, holding me tight, and I buried my fingers in his thick hair. I remembered everything between us as if it were yesterday, both in my head and my heart. He drew back and opened his eyes, his pupils dark, his irises bright, his breathing rate high.
“Mm. You’re very good at this,” I said.
His laugh warmed my cheek, and he kissed me again. I relaxed and licked the inside of his top lip. He groaned, kissing me harder, and we stayed locked together for many minutes. Damn he was good. He finally broke away, his lips brushing mine, his heart racing against my arm. I rubbed my tongue over my lip where his teeth had caught it, my body buzzing.
“Bloody hell, man, you turn me on.”
From the lump in his trousers, the feeling was mutual. I reached up and kissed him again.
“Is there a bed?” he mumbled.
I laughed, leaning back. “Where do you think I can magic a bed from? This is it. It’s a shelter for walkers and climbers. It’s assumed you bring your own mat and sleeping-bag.”
He eyed the bare floor. “We could lie on the coat.”
I rubbed my thumb over his bottom lip. “I don’t think you’re talking about sleeping. One of us should try to get some sleep while the other keeps watch.”
He locked eyes with me. “The door’s barred. No one can get in.”
“Mm. The answer’s still no.”
He bit my thumb, making my insides fizz. “Because you don’t think it’s safe? Or because you don’t want me?”
He sucked the end of my thumb, his teeth nipping gently.
“I don’t want to tonight,” I said, finding it hard to concentrate. “It’s not been a great day.”
He pulled a face, as if this wasn’t a valid reason, but between finally losing Finn, almost getting raped, and being forced to take Aegyir’s blood, the phrase “it’s not been a great day” was an understatement.
“Who’s keeping first watch?” I said, taking my hand away from his lips.
He sighed. “I will. You get some rest.”
I checked the stove, and we lay down on the bare floor, Faran grumbling about the lack of pillows, blankets, mattress, comfort, everything. He offered me his arms, and I curled against him, shuffling about to get as comfy as was possible on the solid floor. He moved me so that I rested on top of him.
“You know, you’re almost as hard as the floor to lie on,” I said.
He caught my eye, smirking, and I poked him. “That’s not what I meant!”
“Come here.”
He drew me into a deep kiss that left small electric currents sparking under my skin.
“I thought you said I should try to sleep. This isn’t conducive to sleeping,” I chided.
“No. It isn’t.” His teeth grazed my lip, and he groaned. “What I’d be wanting to do with you if we were in our bed…”
“Yeah. We need to capture Aegyir before that’s going to happen. Let me sleep. Wake me when you need some rest. We can’t beat Aegyir if we’re both exhausted.”
I bunted down and closed my eyes, choked by bitter irony. I finally wanted a future with him, only for that to be nigh on impossible, whichever side of the portal we were.
25
The half-light of pre-dawn filtered into the bothy, joining the orange glow from the stove. Faran had woken me – apologetically – in the small hours, for me to keep watch while he slept. Although awake for my watch, I’d stayed cuddled on top of him, our bodies a jumble of limbs loosely knitted together. I’d only moved to add another log to the fire and then tucked back against him, needing both his warmth and his security.
I stretched, trying to unkink my back, then inched out of his arms to stoke up the fire, ready to make some breakfast. Faran stirred, yawning, and sat up, rubbing his hair into scruffy spikes.
“Can you get the milk for me?” I said, smiling at the sight of him looking less than pristine for once. “It’s just outside the door.”
Faran unbarricaded the door and peered out. There was no one around. He grabbed the milk and handed it to me, then jammed the wood he’d used to secure the door, back to its night-time position.
I stirred oats and milk together. Would we find Aegyir today? If we did, would we manage to weaken him and get him back to The Realm?
“If we chase Aegyir, can you fight?” Faran asked, stretching and making his back click.
Could I? Taking a weakened Aegyir back to The Realm wasn’t just our best option for protecting both Outside and The Realm, it was our only option if I wanted to try to avoid being hanged.
Faran ducked into my field of view.
“Aeron? I’m asking as both your commanding officer and as someone who loves you. I need you as fit as possible if we’re going to hunt Aegyir today. Can you fight? And give me an honest answer, not a proud one. If you’re not strong enough, we need to work out what we’re going to do.”
I swallowed, taking a moment to answer. If we went back without Aegyir, there was every chance I wouldn’t survive the morning. If we encountered Aegyir and I wasn’t ready, neither me nor Faran might survive. I did a mental top-to-toe, assessing how sore I was. Apart from being stiff after sleeping on a hard floor, I wasn’t too bad. Despite the delay, the salve Faran had applied the night before had soothed most of my injuries. I might not be a hundred per cent, but I’d manage.
“Yes. I can fight,” I said.
The porridge made, I added a dollop of honey to it. There were no bowls, so we sat on the floor and ate from the pan, taking it in turns.
“So, what’s the plan?” I said after the last spoonful of porridge slid down my throat.
Faran rubbed his chin, his palm rasping on his stubble. “Same as yesterday? Walk around and hope we find him.”
“And if we don’t? I don’t have any more money. Not without using a card that could attract attention. If it even still works. I can’t buy us any more food.”
We had two tins of beans and sausages, half the milk and honey, and the majority of a bag of oats. The last of the bread was likely to disappear this morning as toast, to fill Faran up. We’d need to find more wood if we were going to stay another night.
Faran eyed the meagre food rations. “If we haven’t
found Aegyir by tomorrow morning, we’ll have to go back to The Realm.” He caught my expression. “We’ll work something out with Father.”
I wished I had his faith. “Do you think Aegyir’s strong enough to storm The Realm yet? What if his plan is to force both of us to be Outside so that he can’t be defeated in The Realm?”
Faran chewed his lip. “Possible. Let’s look for him this morning, and if we don’t find him, we’ll go back to The Realm. If Aegyir hasn’t attacked, we’ll get Sondan and Cerewen, and return here.”
“You think you can talk your father round to that?”
He weighed the idea. “I think so. Though I expect there will be a lot of shouting on the way.”
I got up and made some toast on the stove, trying not to think about what would happen if Faran’s powers of persuasion weren’t as good as he thought.
I piled the toast on a plate, grabbed a knife and the jar of honey and sat on the floor again. We worked our way through the plateful, each deep in thought.
“You said the house you lived in is now occupied by someone else. Where did your belongings go?” Faran said, as he smothered the last slice of toast with enough honey to give himself diabetes.
“I don’t know. They may have gone to Helen’s – my adopted mother. She probably threw them away. I’m hoping Paul – my adopted father – got my sketchbooks.”
I forced a lump down my throat. My sketchbooks. All my pictures of Finn. Gone. Faran caught my eye, brow raised. “You okay?”
“No. I’ve lost everything I had out here.”
Faran pulled me against him, holding me close. “I’m sorry.”
I squeezed him. “It’s hardly your fault.”
He kissed me. “Come. The sun’s up. We should go and hunt Aegyir.”
I arched a brow at him. “Er, there are no housekeepers here, sunshine. We need to clear up. Do you even know how to wash up?”
He did. Sort of.
We drank the last of the milk, cleaned the pots and made the stove safe to leave. I packed the honey in my bag, but left the oats and the tinned food in the cupboard, not wanting to lug them around. Faran shouldered my bag, sheathed his sword and handed mine to me. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
Not really.
Faran took a last look around the bothy and opened the door. Outside, over a dozen burly men stood in formation. All of them were armed in some way – knives, baseball bats, cricket bats – and none of them seemed friendly. They stood stock-still, glaring at us, a rag-tag bunch of men who looked like they should be in prison. My heart raced, and I shot a glance at Faran. He was as cool as a cucumber, his eyes flicking from person to person, assessing the situation. He drew his sword, a dagger already in his right hand.
“It doesn’t seem as if Aegyir’s waiting nicely in town,” I said, gripping my sword in my maimed hand. “And it looks horribly like he’s been recruiting.”
***
A tall figure cut his way through the men, trailing his hand over their shoulders as he walked. Aegyir. Back to the cadaverous form in a black coat that almost skimmed the ground, red eyes burning. He stopped about a metre away from Faran. Who wore no talisman. I’d like to say I was standing my ground, but the truth was, I was rooted to the spot with fear. Faran and I stood just over a pace apart, the bothy protecting our back.
“Aegyir. Ready to die?” Faran said, his posture alert.
Aegyir inclined his head. “Not today. I have other entertainment today. I have a puzzle for you.”
Faran’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t move. Aegyir smiled beatifically.
“So. The puzzle,” he said, eyes glowing like embers. “You are surrounded. I possess all of these men. They obey me in life; they give me their energy at death. Do you fight your way out, knowing that each time you kill one of my army, I gain their energy? Or do you stand there and let yourselves be mown down?”
Faran looked around the throng. I wondered if he’d actually ever killed anyone. I certainly hadn’t. I didn’t like our odds. There were thirteen of them, all armed with some kind of weapon. Plus Aegyir. Would we manage to fight our way past them without getting killed in the process?
Aegyir paced back and forth, his hands behind his back. “Well, Guardians.” He spat the word. “Fight your way out? Or stand and die? I am really rather hoping that you fight your way out.”
“Why?” I blurted out.
Aegyir stopped, shielded from our blades by his wall of men. “Because as I stand, I cannot take your energy because of that bauble around your neck. And I cannot kill him. But they can. And I do so want revenge.”
My brain rattled over the information. His revenge would be gained by taking the energy of those who’d defeated him last time – me, Faran and Lord Eredan. Lord Eredan was safe in The Realm, I was safe with the talisman, and Faran was safe right now only because Aegyir was too weak – a situation that could change rapidly unless we found a way through his line of bodyguards.
“I’ll take your silence to mean ‘stand and die’.” He pointed to the mob who stood still, poised to attack, like robots awaiting instructions. “I’ve told them to hack you into tiny pieces.”
“Faran, is there any way to save these people?” They might be Aegyir’s slaves but, like me, they’d be free once Aegyir was destroyed. We just needed to find a way past them to Aegyir. Just, I thought, sarcastically.
“Ah, Aeron. How touching,” said Aegyir. “No. They either die now or later. Either way, they die. And I get their power.”
“If you get their power when they die, why aren’t you just killing them?” I asked, rotating slowly on the spot to keep an eye on Aegyir as he paced.
“Well, apart from the great sport of making you choose, none.”
“Faran, have you ever killed anyone?” I whispered.
“Only demons. But I’m willing to change that.”
My eyes flicked from person to person, trying to spot the best route through. “We could run.”
“You want me to flee rather than fight?” Contempt rang in Faran’s voice. “Guardians don’t run. We have Aegyir here. We will capture him and take him back to The Realm. Buck up! And try to remember what I taught you in training!”
Before we could argue about the finer tactics of survival, the mob moved in. Faran squared his stance and stabbed the nearest guy, then turned and slashed at another. An orange glow ringed Aegyir as they fell, burning bright like fire before fading. He stood to one side, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
“Faran, don’t!” I yelled. “Don’t let him get stronger!”
“If I don’t, they’ll kill us,” he shot back.
“Disable, not kill!”
Not that I was sure I could do that either. Perhaps I could knock them out.
Before I could do anything, a man lunged at me. From sheer reflex, I brought the sword down across his shoulder, cutting to the bone, and he crumpled in a bloodied heap. I snatched a breath, shaking like a leaf. It was one thing to practise in a training room, wearing lots of padding with my foe wielding a wooden spoon. This? This was something else entirely.
A second man advanced. In the corner of my eye, I saw Faran punch another, who sank to the ground like he’d been poleaxed. My boot struck my assailant square in the crotch. A second kick connected with his head, and he collapsed. I turned to see how Faran was faring. Despite our aim of disabling rather than killing, Faran didn’t appear to have the choice. The man facing him was armed with a large club and I winced as a blow landed squarely on Faran’s shoulder. He snarled and lashed out, his sword biting deep into the man’s throat. Aegyir glowed again. I scoured the hoards, counting. Three dead bodies. Three others injured. Seven advancing. Faran’s blade flashed next to me, almost cutting a man in half. Only the gurgling from him indicated he’d survived. I didn’t like our odds. Or the fact that Aegyir had turned and was walking away.
I didn’t have the chance to ponder this. A blow knocked me off my feet, and I sprawled to the turf.
“Aeron?”
In the distance, Aegyir glowed. Four dead. Another blow landed on my back, knocking the breath out of me.
“Aeron?”
I fought for air, memories of the day before terrifying me.
“Aeron!” Faran’s roar split the air.
I rolled, avoiding another blow. Flailing wildly, I sliced through one of my attacker’s Achilles tendons. Four injured.
“I’m fine,” I gasped.
I scrambled up and cannoned my head into someone’s midriff, just before they reached Faran. They staggered sideways, and I punched as hard as I could, sending them spinning away. Faran turned and kicked them in the head, knocking them out. Five alive, but out of the running; four dead; four still attacking. Aegyir almost out of sight.
As Faran took on one of the attackers, another swung an axe at him. It connected with his neck and I shrieked. Thank God I’d designed the neckline on the coat so that the leather came right up to the jawline. The axe blade bounced off, but the thug hacked down again with ferocity. Faran’s leathers held, but he crumpled to the ground, unable to hold off both that man and another who’d joined the assault. I was too far away to reach him and had two of my own attackers to deal with. The axe fell again, but I didn’t see it land.
“Faran?” I yelled.
“Mm.” His voice was gruff. I recognised the timbre and my heart sank.
“Are you hurt?”
“Yes.”
Shit! I focused deep inside me, summoning the energy and skills I’d had in The Realm, allowing it to pour forth. I hurled one of the men attacking me backwards, giving me enough space to snatch up a knife from my belt and stab the other in the throat. I made sure the first guy wouldn’t get up again in a hurry and then ran to Faran.
I used the hilt of my sword to club the man with the axe and hacked at the other, sending him fleeing for cover. For a brief but glorious moment, no one was trying to kill either of us. Faran lay on the ground, clutching his left arm, blood running down the side of his face.
“How hurt are you?” I said, crouching at his side.
“Hurt.” He grimaced, his breathing uneven.