Shadows and Light

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Shadows and Light Page 13

by Cari Z


  “There is a boat reserving two places for you at the docks,” Xian replied, handing over a rolled packet of papers. “There are tickets in there, for the Swansong. The captain will not leave until you arrive. As for goods, once you reach the mainland, make your way to the city of Tarsam. It isn’t far, less than two days by foot. In the pleasure district there is a large house in your name. The deed is in the packet.” Feysal’s eyes went dazedly to the papers he held. “There is a factor named Carson Kevali in the same district, anyone can direct you to him. He has the keys and will be able to help you get settled. As for money”—now Xian handed over one of his pouches of coins—”there is enough in there to get you comfortably started on a new life.”

  “How could you possibly…?”

  “I plan ahead. You’re Rafael’s family, which makes you precious to me.” Xian’s voice was soft. “Thank you for all that you’ve done for him. Now, I suggest say your goodbyes quickly, then make your way to the docks. The Swansong is moored at the far eastern end.”

  It was an abrupt way to dismiss the man who had been Rafael’s rock for half a decade. Feysal had been teacher, healer and lover to him, as well as family, and Rafael felt reluctant to part from him. He took both of them in a hug so that Feysal didn’t have to let go of Mina, and murmured, “I know where you’ll be, that’s something. Go and be safe. Watch out for pickpockets.”

  “You always have a home with us,” Feysal replied. “We love you. I love you, Rafael.”

  “Thank you,” he said almost soundlessly. Rafael pulled back, added his own kiss to Mina’s forehead and felt a faint residual tingle there from the magic that had freed her mind. That, he reminded himself firmly, was one of many reasons it was better that they be apart. Rafael was dangerous because of his association with the High Ones, and besides that, there was no way he could leave Xian now.

  Feysal looked one last time at him, as if measuring his determination, before nodding. He sheltered his daughter beneath his arm as they made their way out onto the main street, toward the docks and the boat that would take them to a new life. Rafael wanted to follow, to make sure that they made it all right, but Xian’s hand touched his sleeve lightly before he could do more than shift his weight.

  “They’ll be fine,” Xian said. “And we have our own boat to catch.”

  “We could have accompanied them to the docks—”

  “This boat isn’t at the docks, pet.” He jerked his head upward. “Let’s move out of the crowd, shall we? I’ll explain it as we go.”

  The two of them made their way back up onto the rooftops. They weren’t the only ones using them anymore, but no one bothered them. Xian set off at a fast pace toward the Upper City, making for an area where some of the walls were still standing.

  “Where are we going?” Rafael asked, taking his foot off a loose shingle before he could dislodge it.

  “Myrtea will eventually try to track us with magic, and it’s going to be better for everyone involved if we’re alone,” Xian replied, striding along with the ease of a man who had no worries, despite his troubling words. “It will be better if she’s not able to track us at all, so I’ve gotten us passage on a boat that will mask our presence. It carries magical waste to a dump site on the mainland.”

  “How long have you had all this planned?” Rafael asked, completely mystified and more than a little taken aback at his master’s perspicacity.

  “I told you earlier, pet, I was waiting for the right circumstances, the right person, to come along. The plan itself has been building for a long time.” He glanced back at Rafael and smiled. “And now you’re here, so all my plans are paying off.”

  Xian was silent after that, and Rafael couldn’t think of anything else to say, so he followed behind him as they worked back to the crumbling Upper Half. The closer they got to the fire the more it drew Rafael’s eye, not only for the heat and the smoke but for the changing colors of it. This was no ordinary fire in familiar shades of orange, red and yellow. It wasn’t even the bright white fire that Xian worked with. Deep within this fire the flames burned in colors like gems—topaz and amethyst and jade. The colors came from the magic, Rafael supposed, and only after that heady fuel was used up did the flames diminish to a more standard inferno.

  They didn’t enter the Upper Half, instead following what remained of the walls to the outskirts of the city until cobblestones turned to rough rock and smooth walls became cliff face. They climbed around and across the cliff carefully, Xian leading and Rafael following, and feeling quietly glad that the moon was bright tonight. Occasionally the crash of a nearby building would send sparks flying down the rocks, but by the time the fire’s detritus reached them, it was almost always nothing but ash. At one point a section of the wall fell, tumbling down the cliff only a few yards away from Xian before crashing into the sea. They moved faster after that.

  Once they were within easy distance of the water, Xian reached beneath his cloak and pulled out a small, disc-shaped flare. With a snap of his fingers he sent it winging across the water, spitting diamond-like sparks as it flew.

  “Our signal,” he said. “The boat will be here soon.” Xian hung easily on the rocks, the terrible wounds he’d sustained throughout the day and all the exhaustion of fighting and fleeing seemingly forgotten. Rafael wasn’t nearly so sanguine, and after a few minutes of hanging from the cliff, sprayed intermittently by the cold lake water and constantly checking overhead for an impending rock fall, the fatigue seemed overwhelming.

  “Just a little longer, pet,” Xian promised, moving closer to Rafael until their sides touched. His master was warm, and Rafael turned his head and rested it against Xian’s outstretched arm, just breathing and soaking in the warmth until the splashing wap-wap of oars hitting rough water woke him up. A low barge was coming up beneath them, its oarsmen swathed in oilcloth to keep the water out. They pulled as close to the rocks as they could, and the man at the tiller waved a hand.

  “We have to jump it.”

  Rafael gauged the distance. It was no more than five feet in length, and perhaps another eight or nine down, but his limbs were quivering and untrustworthy.

  “On three, with me,” Xian said. “One, two, three.” He leaped and pulled Rafael with him, and they landed hard on the foredeck, Rafael going down onto a knee with the impact. He shook his head dazedly then looked around and shook it again, wondering why he was seeing double.

  “It’s not you,” Xian commented when he saw Rafael’s expression. “This boat carries the dregs of a thousand different spells. It can change your very reality after prolonged exposure. We won’t be here that long, though.” He signaled to the pilot and the rowers began to pull away from the cliffs and the crumbling city of Clare.

  It took a little over an hour to reach to reach the far shore, and Rafael was wet through by the time they arrived. He stumbled off the boat, thankful he hadn’t eaten anything in recent memory, and watched blearily as Xian exchanged something with the pilot. None of the rowers had said anything on the trip over, and when Rafael caught sight of the mutilated, three-fingered hand that reached out to take Xian’s offering, he wondered if it was because they didn’t have tongues.

  Then the boat was pulling away, Xian was standing beside him and they both were watching the far shore, the flames that shot into the air and, very distantly, the lights of other boats, fleeing the conflagration. The wind ripped through Rafael’s wet clothes and he shivered.

  “It isn’t right.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The very fabric of Clare was disintegrating right before their eyes. Not all of it would go, not yet, but the end had well and truly begun.

  “It’s not right,” Rafael repeated. His eyes still stung from smoke and the fumes from the barge they had ridden on.

  “It’s not right or wrong,” Xian said, his voice flat. “It just is.”

  “So many people are dying—”

  “And so many are living. And so many are already dead. This is a disast
er, pet, uncontrollable, off the mark. Don’t even think about trying to take it into yourself.”

  Rafael turned and stared at his master. His lover. They had been lovers for less than a day, and already the sense of obligation that Xian felt toward him had precipitated the inferno on that distant shore. “If you had given me to Myrtea, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “Clare has always been a doomed city,” Xian replied calmly. “It was doomed from the moment we first discovered the source of eternal youth. The end has been looming for longer than any of us had the wit to realize. My refusal to give you to Myrtea merely forced Fate’s hand.” He looked directly at Rafael, white eyes glowing orange in the light of the flames. “I don’t regret keeping you. Not for an instant. Neither should you.”

  Xian held out his hand, the heavy cloth that protected him ripped and revealing moon-pale skin in several places. He reached for Rafael and Rafael came to him instantly, settling into arms that had murdered dozens today, hands that had set a city on fire to keep him safe. Xian smelled of smoke and ash and stale blood, but Rafael couldn’t help but take comfort in his embrace. He was Xian’s. His apprentice, his failure, his burden, his lover. His.

  Xian pressed a kiss to Rafael’s brow, then his cheek, then his upturned, seeking lips. The parts of him that wanted to rage and scream and fly into a million pieces melted away with his master’s kiss, even though Xian tasted like magic, like Erran’s blood. God’s blood, the gift and the curse, the withering spring of immortality that might yet take Xian from him. It was the taste of life, and death.

  “I’ll get us horses,” Xian murmured against his mouth, then gently disengaged from their embrace and turned, slipping away into the darkness of unsettled forest. Rafael stared again at Clare, hating to see it but unable to look away. The solace he felt knowing his own loved ones had escaped the bloody battle and conflagration was a guilty source of relief. He stared, cursing inside and wishing he was numb.

  Before long Xian brought back two horses, heavy-bodied, sturdy geldings that wore well-used saddles and hackamore bridles. “We have to go a little bit farther tonight, pet,” he said softly to Rafael as he passed him one set of reins. “There’s a farmhouse not far from here that will put us up without question. We have to avoid inns, obviously.” He helped Rafael into the saddle, then mounted up himself.

  Rafael had hardly ever ridden before, but his horse seemed content to follow Xian’s and he managed not to fall out of the saddle, which had to be counted a win. They rode for probably less than an hour before arriving at the farmhouse, where a quiet woman handed the horses off to her son and escorted them to an outbuilding, completely windowless and shaded underneath two large oak trees. “I’ll bring food, sir,” she said respectfully before leaving them.

  The building was a single room on the inside, with a low-slung bed, a lamp that the woman had lit and hung on a hook near the door and a small table with two chairs. The bed looked comfortable, and all Rafael could think was that he wanted to fall into it right now, but he stank from the exertions of the day and his clothes were filthy.

  “She’ll bring water as well,” Xian promised him. “Strip. Take your weapons out of the clothes and she’ll take them for cleaning. It will likely make for damp riding tomorrow evening, but we’ll have that anyway at this time of year.”

  Rafael did so, feeling strangely insulated, as though he’d left conscious thought behind and was now acting on habit alone. The food came, along with water and soap. They bathed outside, quickly but thoroughly, and the woman whisked their clothes away, leaving them rough towels to dry off with. Rafael ate a little bread and drank some water, but he couldn’t stomach the meat or cheese. He left them on his plate and headed for the bed. Xian joined him after turning down the lamp, and they held each other under the heavy quilt.

  So much had changed, so fast… Rafael didn’t know what to think. He didn’t feel capable of thinking. Xian kissed his forehead then his lips. “You should sleep.”

  “Not yet,” Rafael said, his sudden need coming through in the roughness of his voice. “Not now. I have to be with you.”

  “I’m with you, pet. I’m not leaving you.”

  “You’re still too far away,” Rafael shook his head. “I feel like I left everything in Clare, even though you’re here right now. I need to feel you. Please.”

  In response Xian stretched out against him, shifting his body so that he covered Rafael rather than lying next to him. “You need to feel me?” he breathed along the side of Rafael’s neck, his teeth scraping over skin scrubbed raw to get the grime off. “You need me holding you down, pet?” He took Rafael’s wrists in one hand and raised them above his head, using the other hand to trail down the length of his shoulder and chest and leave thin red lines where his nails dug in. “You need to know I want you?” Xian pressed their erections together, and his flesh was hard and heavy against Rafael’s. “I always want you, Rafael. I’ll always want you, for as long as I have you.”

  “You’ll always have me,” Rafael promised, seeking out Xian’s mouth for a kiss. This, this moment, was what he had given up his last life for. It was for the promises they gave each other and the absolute certainty of Xian’s affection. He still wouldn’t say love, but Rafael felt it.

  Rafael personally had no problem with speaking the words. “Love you, I love you,” he whispered, repeated over and over into the kiss, against Xian’s face and hair and body and into the air until it was filled with his promises and alive with his love.

  Xian pulled back for a moment and stared down at Rafael with his lips parted, almost as though he was about to say something. He thought better of it after a moment, and slanted in for another kiss, harder this time, plunging inside Rafael’s mouth with tongue and teeth. Rafael welcomed the pain, whimpered and pleaded for more.

  “You need me?” Xian said at last, his voice as sharp as his teeth, snapping off each word. “You would give me anything. I could take you right now, like this, with nothing to ease the way, and you would ask me for more.”

  “I’d beg for more,” Rafael gasped, opening his legs farther and thrusting eagerly up into the hollow of Xian’s hip. He would. He’d take Xian in any way he could have him right now, anything, so long as he took away the space that separated them. Skin on skin was still too far away.

  “I could take you like this but I need you fit to ride. Blood is an expensive commodity from here on out, pet.” Xian gentled his touch some, lifted his hand from Rafael’s flank and raised it to his panting mouth. He teased Rafael’s lips with two fingertips, stroking the red, bruised flesh before slipping them inside. Rafael sucked on them, stroking them with his tongue, caressing the calluses of many lifetimes of blade work before gently nipping the blunt nails. Xian smiled at him.

  “Beautiful boy.” He took his fingers back, slid them between their bodies and pressed them smoothly into Rafael’s body. Rafael accepted them, relaxing around them even though his body was screaming to clench and hold on as he fucked himself against them, but it simply wasn’t enough. Xian twisted them mercilessly, curling and rubbing until Rafael saw stars. He felt those sharp teeth bite his shoulder, his nipple, his stomach and his hip, then Xian’s mouth was on his cock and his blood rushed from his head so fast he was left dizzy.

  Rafael had rarely been touched like this. It wasn’t a position he was comfortable in. He either gave his own mouth, before only ever to Feysal, or he was satisfied with the touch of hands or anal penetration, either giving or receiving. Lips had occasionally connected there, a tongue had come out to taste but Rafael hadn’t let any of his lovers finish him in that way.

  It felt perfect with Xian, though, strange and rare and special, and as the fingers hammered out pleasure from within him and the wet, clinging mouth of his lover drew it further and further along, Rafael gave in and let go, arching into Xian and coming in long, delirious bursts. His body burned, all its defenses and walls crumbling to ruin like the walls of Clare, his bone-deep fatigue just anothe
r source of intense sensation now. He distantly felt Xian press his mouth to his entrance and work his spend inside, then sit back, pull Rafael’s legs roughly over his shoulders and hilt himself in one fast thrust.

  The burn was still there, and Rafael wondered dimly if it would always be there when Xian took him like this, if the fire between them would never allow for anything other than stinging, quicksilver heat and passion. It didn’t matter, he wanted this. This was what he needed, the unrelenting power and connection, the absolute proof of Xian’s existence, of his wholeness and health and his desire. Rafael felt more strongly than ever that need for connection and for a moment, riding the continuing, pulsing wave of his orgasm, he felt the tenuous barriers between them dissolve, so that all there was was them, and they were the same. Then Xian came and the last of that clinging friction vanished and after a long moment they were two people again, and Rafael felt every aching bone and torn muscle protesting their position. He ignored them and clung to his lover.

  “Rafael…” Xian’s voice was impossibly soft and tender, and his kisses mirrored it. He pulled out, making Rafael hiss in reaction, but he settled against him again immediately, his long silver hair draped over their upper bodies like a veil. “Do you think you can sleep now?”

  “I don’t think I could stop myself,” Rafael admitted, biting back a yawn. “Thank you, though. For giving me this, for being with me.”

  Xian grinned. “Giving you things is no hardship for me, and I’m always with you, pet. And I needed it just as much, to tell the truth.” He frowned slightly. “There are many things you’re going to be learning while we travel, Rafael, and some of those things will hurt you. I want you to know that I wouldn’t tell you anything that I didn’t think would help you in some way, and I wouldn’t show or do to you anything without knowing it would be useful to you.”

 

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