* * *
It was the deep quiet of near-dawn when Ghrenna padded to his blankets laid out upon the bare boards. The thief Luc was fast asleep. Elohl could hear his soft snores up on the bed. The other two were in the adjacent suite, the door between their rooms closed. Elohl felt Ghrenna’s gaze even before he could see her in the darkness, licking over his skin like slow fire. He motioned her over, and she sat, then stretched out upon her side, still in her Kingsman greys. Those fathomless pools watched him in the early light of pre-dawn, mysterious in her pale shroud of hair. Even as a lad, Ghrenna’s pale northern beauty had caught Elohl, a spell that innocence from women had not been able to spare him. He lifted his blanket so she could slide under. But he was very careful not to touch her, as if they were First Seals once again.
“Did I wake you?” Her voice was a whisper of specters through moonlight.
“I was already awake. I didn’t sleep.” Elohl nodded his chin at the bed and the snoring. “Does he really stop all your headaches and seizures?”
Her smile was shy, a smile Elohl had only seen when he used to undress her by moonlight at the edge of Fherrow’s Pond. “He does. He’s a natural-born healer, like Lhegen used to be.”
“And the visions?”
“Unpredictable, still. But I haven’t had one since Luc first helped me.” Ghrenna stretched out her fingers, toying with one of the laces of Elohl’s shirt. He caught his breath, feeling her pull. Using all his hard-won discipline, he held very still so their skin wouldn’t touch.
“I used to dream that you would find me,” she murmured. “Just wishful dreams. That you would climb us both up a white pinnacle so high that we entered the clouds. A palace of solace and mist. And we would lay there in the mist, just … touching. Until the clouds cleared and we could see the world, lit by the diamond brilliance of the spire in the thin air.”
She reached out, as if to touch his bare chest between the lacings of his shirt, the gold of his Alran-Ink dim in the grey light. But her fingers only hovered, so close, as a subtle tremor rippled her. “I still dream it every night. Of that peace. But every morning I wake to pain. Before Luc touched me, the only time I knew a world without pain was when you and I were there. Just… there. But now you’ve been marked, Elohl. By something… someone… powerful. And I don’t know why. Nor why it keeps us apart when we should be one.”
Her whisper held a dire portent, that made Elohl shiver and ache. He could feel the heat in her fingertips, the warmth of her body so close and yet so unendingly far. Her eyes were pools of dread sorrow, and Elohl’s heart twisted at the distance that yawned between them. She brushed her fingertip lightly over his bare skin, along a faint line of gold ink. Keening softly, her face screwed up in pain, her jaw locking tight. It was a minute before she could speak again.
“Foolish dreams of foolish girls.”
She withdrew her hand. Elohl’s heart went with it. He lifted his own hand, reaching for her, not touching her jaw, just hovering. Drawn in, he moved forward, their faces close. His lips hovered over hers. He could taste her sweet scent upon his tongue. Ghrenna was breathing hard, her soft breath so hot. Elohl couldn’t stop from matching her pull, feeling her obliteration. He couldn’t stop wanting her until the city burned to the ground and his head was in the noose.
Gods suffer him, he couldn’t stop. He'd never been able to stop her pull.
She lifted her lips, closing the gap.
And for a moment, Elohl burned as they kissed.
And then she was seizing again.
“Dammit, Kingsman!” Luc launched from the bed as Ghrenna thrashed, keening in the wan light. Elohl came to his knees in his blankets, trying to hold her limbs steady.
“Let her go! Let her go! You’re only making it worse!” Luc elbowed him out of the way, getting a firm grip on Ghrenna’s whipping head, staying clear of her thrashing. In a moment, he had the violence down to a shiver. But her eyelids were still fluttering madly, and they would not open this time.
“What did you do, you whorescunt?!” Luc snarled, murderous.
“I kissed her.” Anguish twisted Elohl’s heart. Fear and helplessness coursed through his veins as he watched his lover writhe. Truth was best. It was Ghrenna’s life Elohl had just jeopardized, and he knew it.
“Fucking hells!” But Luc’s sigh was more irritated than angry. “You know this strains me, Kingsman. I can’t continue to do this all night long. Each time I work on her, I get sapped. I’m not the fountain of bloody youth! Ghrenna? Ghren, sweetheart, come on back… come on…”
Luc was all tenderness and care with her. Elohl regarded the man, seeing the sweet love the handsome thief held for Ghrenna. How much they had shared together over the years. Elohl’s heart withered in his chest, wishing they could exchange places. Ice crept in again as he spiraled down in a bitter despair, all his newfound peace sliding away.
At last, Ghrenna seemed to have fallen asleep, her twitching subsided. But even so, Luc was still moving his hands, ever so slowly, still cradling her skull on the bare floorboards. Elohl reached out, fingers whispering over a lock of Ghrenna’s lovely white-blonde hair where it spilled across her shoulder.
“I envy you.” Elohl managed, his eyes tight, burning with tears. “You can touch her. Love her. Be with her. I’ve waited ten years… ten years to be able to touch her. Hoping she was alive. And now…” He laughed suddenly, a harsh bark of despair. “Now this! My touch triggers seizures! The worst kind! I used to be able to soothe her... hold her, calm her. All I ever wanted was to be with her, Luc. I had dreams... Aeon, curse me for a fool!”
Elohl stood abruptly. In a vicious chill of ancient despair, he pulled the lacings of his shirt closed, shrugged into his leather jerkin and halter of climbing items and knives, glancing out the single grimy window of the inn’s room at a bitter dawn. Tears falling thick and fast, he sat upon the bed, pulling on his soft leather climbing boots. Elohl rose, heading for the door to the hall. He had his hand on the bolt when Luc's rough voice called out behind him.
“Hey! Kingsman! Where can she find you?”
Elohl turned, not bothering to scrub tears from his weatherworn cheeks. “Do you really want to know?”
“I don’t. I could give two shits. But she will. And Ghrenna leads our guild, not me.”
Elohl considered the tall man upon his knees on the boards, still with his hands beneath Ghrenna’s head. The thief was a decent fellow. He was the sort of man Ghrenna deserved. A man who could be kind to her. Who could give her laughter and warm nights rather than pain and bitter memories. But jealousy seared a cold path deep into Elohl's writhing heart, and some part of him rose suddenly in promise.
He would find a way, to be able to touch her again.
“I’m at the King’s Cross, in the Tradesman Quarter.” Elohl murmured. “Third floor, second room on the left. Ask for Elohl den’Alrahel, Veteran High Brigade.”
The man’s attention flicked over Elohl as if seeing something new. “Veteran High Brigade? High Brigade is a death sentence.”
“So they told me when I was placed there.” Elohl gazed his last over Ghrenna's luminous beauty, her head so sweetly in Luc's long-fingered hands. He steeled himself in his promise. “None of us had any choice in our future when we were ripped from our homes, Luc. Believe me, I tried my best to die. Better to die than to be without her for so long.” He paused, his hand on the bolt of the door.
“She loves you, you know.” The golden-maned thief growled, bitter but honest. “The way she speaks of you. Not often... only after her dreams. But even so... you'd be a daft bastard to leave her like this.”
Elohl lingered upon Ghrenna's luminous beauty, some part of him dying at her vicious perfection. “Tell her I'm at the King's Cross?”
The thief was silent a long moment, but at last nodded. “You’re a lucky man, Elohl.”
“No. I'm not.” Elohl stepped out into the dim lamplight of the hall without looking back.
CHAPTER 26 �
�� TEMLIN
Blackmark (The Kingsmen Chronicles #1): An Epic Fantasy Adventure Sword and Highland Magic Page 43