Skythane

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Skythane Page 20

by J. Scott Coatsworth


  Jameson leaned down to pick the boy up, pulling Morgan’s skinny form up to his chest. “Hey, that’s enough.” He hugged the boy to his chest.

  Both voices fell silent, and Xander and Quince pivoted to look at him in synch, surprised.

  “You should be in bed,” Xander said.

  Quince nodded. “You need to get your strength back up.”

  “I feel much better, but you two should be ashamed of yourselves. You’ve scared this poor boy half to death. Especially you, Xander. He looks up to you!” He turned to Morgan. “You okay, little guy?”

  Morgan nodded. “She doesn’t like me.” He pointed at Quince.

  “Why don’t you run inside and lie down for a bit?”

  The boy followed his instruction, shooting back a brief smile before disappearing into the darkness of the room.

  “Now what’s this all about?”

  Xander and Quince exchanged looks.

  “Quince said she came in and Morgan had his hands on you. They were glowing, and then you were healed.”

  “I told you he was no normal boy.” Quince sounded a little too smug about it.

  “Whatever he did, I’m no worse for wear. In fact, I feel better than I have in a week.” He held up his arms to show off his body. “So my vote’s with Xander. The boy goes with us.”

  Quince held his gaze for a moment, searching his eyes. He thought he saw the hint of a smile on her lips. She nodded.

  Jameson had the feeling that she didn’t lose very often.

  His stomach growled. “Now can I get something to eat?”

  Chapter Eighteen: Twist

  “WE’LL LEAVE at first light. We should reach Gaelan tomorrow,” Quince said, pausing between bites. The way station was stocked with an assortment of dried meats and fruits, making this the best meal they’d had in days. “Things have been calm between the Gaelani and the Erriani for some time, but there’s a force from OberCorp in the city—”

  “Seriously? We’ve come all this way to get away from them, and they’re there before us?” Xander almost spat it out.

  Jameson passed a handful of nuts to Morgan. “How do you know?”

  “They’ve been there for a while. Robyn… your mother, Xander, sent me a message just before we left. I hope she can help us. Something has changed. The pith shortage has me worried.”

  Jameson perked up at this information. The quest that had brought him to Oberon seemed almost lost to the past, but it was what he had come here to find out…. “Where does pith come from?” he asked. It was strange that he didn’t know even this basic piece of information about the drug he’d been tasked to bring back home.

  “It’s the sap of the púca tree. It grows in the mountains, not far from here.” Quince chewed on a piece of dried meat. “It’s mostly used here for rituals and during fertility rites.”

  Jameson laughed. “That’s crazy…. Wait, you’re not kidding.”

  Quince shook her head. “Titania is a different place from Oberon. When the second-wave colonists arrived, our people were driven out of their homes. We had already lost much of the remaining technology that we’d brought with us from Earth, and what little was left was lost in the Great Retreat, when most of us fled to Titania.”

  “So it’s a primitive culture—”

  “Technologically, yes. But you have to remember, it’s a culture that grew up over eight hundred years. It has its own complexities and subtleties.”

  He’d offended her. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean—”

  “Technological advances aren’t always better than cultural ones,” Xander said. “What has high tech brought to Oberon’s cities, other than pollution and squalor?”

  Jameson thought about it. Certainly tech had made his life more comfortable at home, but he’d lived an above-average life, financially. Clearly that wasn’t the case for many. He’d seen how people lived in the Slander, and the miners on Tander’s World. “So how did they get here? The way we came?”

  She nodded. “Some did, but there are several other places where the worlds still touch. They can only be opened with a key, in the middle of the day.” She took a sip of water.

  She gave him some of the dried fruit, which he devoured quickly. He was still unreasonably hungry most of the time, though his wings were approaching their mature size, if Xander’s wingspan was anything to judge by.

  “So what happens when we get there?” Xander asked. “To Gaelan?”

  “We have to sneak in and convince someone to give us the rocthane.”

  “The what?” Xander asked.

  Jameson couldn’t help stealing looks at the handsome wing man.

  “The rocthane. The key. Well, it’s not really a key, per se, not like the others. This one can remove the wall that divides Titania and Oberon. We’ll need it if you two are going to bring the worlds back together.”

  “Wait… what?” Jameson almost spit out his fruit. “We’re going to do what?” A memory surfaced in his head, something that must have been much older than he was.

  He stood in a circular chamber hollowed out of stone, across from a beautiful, regal woman. She was magnificent, more than six feet tall, her black wings swept out behind her. She was dressed in a warrior’s armor.

  There was an archway next to them. Their hands together held a round stone, about as big as a crystal ball and as black as night. It seemed to suck all the light out of the room.

  Their eyes met, and she nodded. Their eyes locked on one another, he stepped through the archway, and the world shifted….

  Jameson blinked, and he was back in another cavern, this one lit by a lantern.

  Quince was staring at him intently. “Where did you go?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. There was a room… a cave, kind of like this one, and a woman—”

  “Did she have black hair, and dark wings, like Xander?”

  He nodded dumbly.

  “That was Elyra.” She sat back, staring at him. “You were touched by the gods.”

  Touched by something. “Is she real?”

  Quince nodded. “She was the Queen of the House of the Moon, and together with Daedus, King of the House of the Sun, she shifted Oberon, the last time the two worlds were threatened.”

  “Was? How long ago was that?” Having these old memories suddenly popping into his head was unnerving, to say the least.

  Quince considered. “About 750 years ago, give or take, before the arrival of the second wave.” She handed him a cup of water. It had a strange taste, but he was thirsty…. It was probably just what “natural” water tasted like.

  He shook his head. The whole thing was crazy. You couldn’t just go around shifting worlds at a whim. Maybe I’m the one who’s crazy. He decided that he didn’t want to explore that possibility too deeply.

  Xander jumped in to save him. “Who made the keys, Quince? From what you’ve told us, the skythane didn’t have the ability to create something that shifts worlds. I’m not sure anyone in the Common Worlds even does, today. So who did?”

  “I don’t know. No one does. Maybe the gods.”

  Xander snorted. “Now we’re back to rank superstition.”

  Jameson jumped in. “Assuming we believe you”—he shot a look at Xander—“what would you need us to do?”

  “It’s simple. Find out who’s in power now. Then convince them to give you the key, and to let the son of his foremost enemy walk out the door with you to save the world.”

  Xander snorted. “Simple as that.”

  “I never promised it would be easy.”

  AFTER THEIR meal, Jameson offered to take the first watch again. After what Morgan had done to him, and with a full stomach, he felt better than he had in days. He also felt a little… randy. It had been a long time.

  He took up a place in the shadow of the outcrop, just outside the way station, and sat back to pass his shift.

  Quince had stressed how important this duty was, especially as they approached Gaelan, and he had
promised to stay awake.

  His mind was still catching up to what had happened to his body these last few days—the wings, the strange memories that weren’t his, and Morgan’s intervention.

  His unexpected attraction to Xander.

  If he was honest with himself, he’d had these urges before. His parents’—his foster parents, actually, and he was still getting used to that idea—religion had frowned upon homosexuality, though his psych training had brought him to a much more neutral understanding of it. He’d long ago decided that it wasn’t for him, that he could be whatever he wanted to be. That he wouldn’t let his sexual desires rule his life.

  He had experienced “feelings” for one of the miners once, a young Tharsisian named Mikelos. Feelings that he was fairly sure had been reciprocated, if never acted upon. That would have been unethical, in any case.

  Plus he was still engaged to Jessa. He was supposed to “wait” for her.

  So he’d pushed those feelings aside, sure he could just wish the whole thing away. Somehow.

  But now….

  Xander was so close, and so unimaginably beautiful. Jameson closed his eyes and pictured the man standing in front of him, his black wings catching the moonlight.

  He shivered, though it wasn’t that cold out yet, and settled in to watch for intruders.

  XANDER LAY down on the cot and closed his eyes, willing the oblivion of sleep to carry him away from all the madness. The day had become a nightmare—almost losing Jameson, and having to pull Quince away from Morgan once again.

  Now he lay on a strange bed in a strange world, and all he could think about was Jameson.

  The man was so wrong for him. Brainy and stuffy where Xander was forthright and practical. Prideful to the point of distraction, and from a rival family to boot.

  Xander had no business thinking about Jameson in that way, and yet….

  He turned on his side, counting shooting stars in his head. Usually when he reached fifty he was out like a light, but not this time. Four-hundred-and-seventy-nine, four-hundred-and-eighty, four-hundred-and-eighty-one. Still no solace.

  Alix had receded in his memory, the man’s beautiful face and bright smile little more than a spark.

  Instead, when he closed his eyes, he saw the off-worlder. When the shadow of memory had come over his face, Xander had wanted nothing more than to take Jameson in his arms to keep him safe.

  Instead, he’d gone to bed alone.

  Fuck it.

  He got up silently, pulling on his pants, and checked to make sure Quince and Morgan were still sleeping. The boy was snoring softly.

  Xander smiled and pulled the blanket up to his neck. Then he padded outside to find Jameson.

  Jameson looked up, surprised, when he arrived. “Is it time to trade shifts already? It felt like just an hour….”

  “Not yet.” Xander leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips, their third kiss. This time, he held the kiss for a moment, savoring the taste of the man. Then he pulled back to judge if his advances were welcome, or if he’d missed the mark.

  Jameson looked shocked, but then his mouth stretched into a lazy smile, and his brown eyes almost sparkled. This time, he leaned forward to kiss Xander.

  Xander’s libido surged.

  They separated again, and Xander whispered, “Do you want to…?”

  “More than anything.”

  Xander laughed. “Come on. I know a place.”

  He led Jameson down the path to the shower, and laid him down gently on the ground. His wings spread, he knelt down over Jameson and ran his hand over the other man’s chest.

  Jameson looked up at him expectantly, his breathing short and shallow.

  Xander undid his own shirt, exposing his chest and back to the cool air.

  Jameson’s hands went around his back, and the man hissed when he felt the scars there. “Can I see?”

  Xander hesitated. They were part of a dark time in his life, and made him feel marred. Damaged. Finally he nodded. He turned so Jameson could see them, touch them.

  Jameson’s warm hand passed over his back, tracing the lines left there by Rogan’s whip.

  “Do you think they’re ugly?” he asked anxiously.

  Jameson turned him around gently. “Not to me. They’re part of who you are, and that makes them beautiful.” He pulled Xander down into another kiss, this one longer and deeper.

  In response, Xander kissed him, hard. His hand reached down to undo Jameson’s pants, finding Jameson aroused and ready for him.

  Jameson was slenderer than Xander, his light skin shining in the silver moonlight.

  He circled around Jameson’s nipples with his tongue, one at a time, eliciting a moan from the man as he arched his chest into the air, reaching for more.

  Xander flashed Jameson an evil smile and pulled Jameson’s pants down.

  The cool river air played over his own bare back.

  He nibbled on Jameson’s ear, whispering, “I’ve been waiting for this.”

  Jameson shivered, but he nodded.

  Then Xander did a whole lot more.

  QUINCE ALIGHTED in the garden of the House of the Stars, the moonlight silvering her wings. Lyrin was fast asleep in her arms, held close to her chest.

  She trod softly up the path to the small castle, nodding to the golden statue of Erro as she passed under his extended wings.

  The House of the Stars’ courtyard doors were flung open, and she entered quietly, looking around the abandoned space. The last time she’d been here, the place had been bustling with members of the Gaelani and Erriani courts for the Midsummer Festival. Now it was deserted, the merriment of that night long past.

  She reached forward and pulled open the door to the House of the Stars. Twice as tall as she was, it nevertheless opened smoothly.

  There was a small fire in the Grand Hall, smokeless, she was sure. Someone stood before the fire.

  “Robyn?”

  The figure turned, and then they were running toward one another across the empty space. “Quince!” Robyn kissed her hard. “I was so worried. I sent word. Did you get it?”

  Quince shook her head. “I waited. Then something terrible happened to Ballifor…. They….” She couldn’t get it out.

  “What happened?” Robyn held her at arm’s length, looking into her eyes.

  Gods, she had missed those arms.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Quince sat down next to the fire and told Robyn everything.

  Next to them, little Davyn was fast asleep on a pile of furs.

  When she got to the part about her village, she froze up again. “Ballifor… it’s… it’s gone,” she managed at last.

  “What do you mean, gone?”

  “Destroyed. By some lander weapon. I was lucky to escape. If I hadn’t taken Lyrin for a walk….”

  “At least they don’t know you’re still alive. And they haven’t found Davyn and me.”

  “They’ll find us eventually.” Quince’s voice came out in a whimper. She wasn’t brave. She’d only survived so far due to dumb luck and flight instinct. “They’ll kill us all. They blamed the Gaelani for what happened to the Erriani Queen.”

  “There’s been fighting. I hadn’t heard about Ballifor. I’m so sorry, Quince.”

  “It makes no sense. Why do they want us to fight?”

  “They don’t want Davyn and Lyrin to fulfill their destiny. Any change to the world order might threaten their illicit pith trade. Quince, you have to be brave. I need you to be brave. You’re the only one who can save us all.”

  “How?” She wiped the tears from her eyes. Gods, she hated being vulnerable like this. She should be angry at Robyn for having sent her away in the first place. But her anger was long gone.

  “You have to take the boys and run. To Oberon. Lose yourself. Lose them, so no one can find you.”

  Quince shook her head. “I can’t. I just found you again. I can’t leave—don’t ask me to leave.”

  Robyn laid a
hand on the side of her face. “We’ll be together again, love. I promise. We’ll figure it out. When the boys are most needed, we’ll be ready.” She kissed Quince softly, gently. Then she looked at her again, her eyes wet, belying the strength in her voice. “You can do this.”

  At last, Quince nodded. “I wish I could take you with me.”

  “I have to stay here, to grieve the loss of my son.” She looked at Davyn’s sleeping form. She did not cry. Quince was heartened by her strength.

  “When do I have to go?”

  “Tomorrow morning is soon enough, my love.” She drew Quince with her to another pile of blankets and furs before the fire. “Tonight I want you next to me.”

  Quince nodded. “I’d like that. It’s been too long.”

  They settled in together, Lyrin tucked in front of Quince’s chest. Robyn wrapped her arms around Quince.

  Quince felt safe for the first time since the death of the Erriani Queen.

  Quince awoke.

  She was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling of the little cavern.

  It had been so long since she had seen Robyn last, on that fretful night before she had taken the two boys and run. So much had changed.

  She hoped at least one small thing remained the same. She hoped they weren’t walking into a trap.

  She would find out tomorrow.

  The night was still, the murmur of the river running by outside the open door the only sound.

  Something was wrong.

  She sat up quietly and looked around. Morgan was asleep, his back to her. At rest, he looked like any normal little boy. She pulled the blanket they’d found in the chest up over his shoulders.

  Xander was gone.

  He must have gone to find Jameson. Her addition to their diet was having its desired effect, apparently, but that meant that no one was keeping watch.

  She crept to the door of the cavern, looking into the darkness outside. The moon cast a silver glow across the river valley, and the trees stood still as if frozen by the darkness.

 

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