He laughed, an ugly sound. “Wait until you see what’s coming. When—”
There was a flash of light, and then he was clutching at his throat. He fell to his knees, choking on his own blood, and then fell face-first into the shallow water of the lake.
“Nice shot,” Quince said.
Robyn stood there with a pulse rifle, grinning. “Sometimes you have to fight dirty.”
Quince nodded. “Good to have you back.” She pulled Robyn in for a deep kiss. She’d missed this Robyn.
They separated, and Quince looked at the ruined sleep sacks. They were heading north, into snow country. She was pretty sure she was gonna regret using them as bait, later.
They collected their carry sacks and what was left of the sleep sacks, moving down the lake twenty meters from the carnage, where she hoped they’d be able to get a few hours of uninterrupted rest. They left the rangers to rot.
I should feel badly about this. Somehow, though, Quince couldn’t make herself mourn for the likes of those.
ALIX WATCHED from the shadows as Jameson and Xander set up separate tents, across a small clearing from one another.
The Gaelani camp was hidden under the trees, in case OberCorp came snooping. Not that the company didn’t have ways to find them anyhow—a good thermal scan would reveal the host hidden beneath the forest canopy in short order—but there was no reason to make it easy for them.
Xander and Jameson were having problems. Alix should have been happy. It was what he’d wanted, right? And yet….
What he had done had clearly shaken Xander to the core, his cocky know-it-all personality reduced to anger and self-doubt.
Goddammit, it’s my fault. If he’d just left well enough alone, Xander—his Xander—wouldn’t be broken. The man wouldn’t even look him in the face.
Alix had been surprised when Jameson had asked him to come along on an exploratory mission to Errian, and even more surprised when he’d said yes.
He wanted Xander back. There was no denying that. The nine years they’d spent together had been the best years of his life. But not like this.
Jameson was a better man than he’d first judged. Maybe… maybe he and Xander were better off together.
In any case, it was done. Xander needed time to figure it out. That was something they both could give him.
Alix pulled back into the darkness and made his way to his own tent for the night.
Chapter Twelve: Shudder
MORNING DAWNED cool and damp with a fine film of dew across the top of his tent. Jameson reached up to touch the fabric. The droplets gathered together and ran in a rivulet down to the ground.
The tents were courtesy of OberCorp, another of the stashes Alix had led them to in the House of the Moon. There weren’t enough for the whole host, so many of the Gaelani were sleeping on the ground. Jameson had tried to refuse his own, but the skythane of the host had insisted.
It was strange being alone, without Xander, but he respected his need to have some time to work this out. Look how much time it had taken Jameson to come around to being gay.
He sat up on his knees and put his hands together in prayer. It was something his adoptive parents had taught him, and though he no longer considered himself particularly religious, it still brought him comfort. Even if their god was a universe away—if he existed at all.
“Lord, if you are there… if you can hear me, please give Xander the peace he needs to find his way.” A part of him laughed at that. The God his parents knew wasn’t exactly on a friendly basis with the gays, but Jameson believed that whatever was out there, whatever higher power or being might exist, that it would be more accepting than that. “Amen.”
He crossed himself and pulled on his clothes. It was going to be a trying day today, all the more so without Xander by his side.
Last but not least, he pulled on the sun sigil Quince had given him, that day on Oberon before they had stepped through the waygate. Before everything had changed.
Today things would change again. Today he would start to take back his own kingdom. To become Lyrin, King of the Erriani, in truth.
He was struck then by a vision of such clarity and potency that he knew it must be true.
Daedus, King of the Erriani, strode onto the golden balcony of the House of the Sun holding Elyra’s hand. They raised their clasped hands, the King of Errian and the Queen of Gaelan, and the assembled host cheered.
“On this day, the Erriani and the Gaelani are one!”
Jameson blinked. It had happened before. It would happen again.
He wouldn’t lose Xander without a fight.
PATCHES OF fog clung to the surface of the lake, extending tentative tendrils toward the banks. A flock of creach feasted on the bodies of the enforcers a couple dozen meters down the shore, cackling and tossing shreds of meat into the air before snapping them up with their red beaks.
Quince had volunteered to take watch. She was much more practiced at it than Robyn. She turned away, her mouth curled in distaste at the feasting.
The first rays of the sun crested the trees across the lake, dissipating the fog, and somewhere in the forest behind them, something howled.
Robyn looked up at her from one of the hastily repaired sleep sacks.
“Did you get any sleep?” Quince stood and stretched, enjoying the touch of the sun on her arms after a cool night.
Robyn wriggled out of her sack. “A little.” She glanced at the sky. “You should have woken me. I would have taken a turn.”
Quince shook her head. “I was happy to have the time to think.” She dug into her carry sack and pulled out some auxen jerky and her canteen. She offered some to Robyn.
They sat with their backs against a redoak tree and munched on dried meat.
“What about?”
Quince was silent for a long time. “The boys. I wish we could have let them come to each other in their own time.”
Robyn put a hand on her knee. “It was the only way. There was no time to waste.”
“But what if they find out?” That was what kept Quince up at night—the long-term consequences of her actions. She and Robyn had long discussed the possibility of encouraging a relationship. “It might split them apart.”
Robyn chewed on a chunk of meat for a long time before replying. “Then we’ll just have to hope they never know.”
That was about as unsatisfactory an answer as Quince had ever heard. “Nothing to do about it now, I suppose.” Quince took a long drink from her canteen. “Want me to refill yours?”
Robyn nodded, handing hers over. “I’ll pack up the camp.”
Quince took it and made her way along the water’s edge. The trees grew right up to the waterline, their roots climbing above the water before diving into the muddy soil below. Small yellow fish darted in schools among them, scattering in a golden flash as Quince passed.
In less than ten minutes, she found what she sought, a small brook that tumbled down the hillside above the lake, bringing fresh, cool water from the mountains to the west.
She knelt, filling the canteens one after another, scanning the forest around her for signs of movement.
There were whipcats in these foothills. Usually they left people alone, but Quince was rusty on her Titania wood lore. It didn’t hurt to be careful.
A flock of forest impreans exploded from the trees overhead, flying in agitated circles over the lake.
Quince felt it before she heard it, the ground beneath her feet shuddering. She grabbed one of the redoak trees next to the brook and held on as the earth shook and a grinding rumble filled the world.
Water splashed out of the brook and the waters of the lake lapped the banks hungrily as the tumult grew, setting Quince’s teeth on edge. What the hell?
Then as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The world stilled, though the birds still soared in distressed circles over the water.
Quince made her way back to the lake, toward Robyn and the campsite. A few trees were down, but
it was nothing like the devastation caused by the storm after the shift.
Maybe it was an aftershock. After all, the world had been torn in half thousands or hundreds of thousands of years before. It wouldn’t fit back together perfectly. There was bound to be some settling, as unnerving as that was.
“Robyn, you okay?”
“Yeah,” the queen’s voice came back. “Just a little shaken up.”
Quince climbed over the roots of one of the redoak trees and saw Robyn at last.
“What the hell was that?” Robyn glanced at the birds in distrust.
“A quake, for sure. Not certain what caused it, though. Are those common here?” She didn’t remember it being so.
“Not at all.” Robyn pulled on her carry sack. “Then again, this is no longer Titania. The old rules may not apply.”
Quince snorted. That was an understatement. “We should move on.”
“Let me check your wound first.” Robyn pulled Quince’s wing down gently. “I have rinroot. It’s an astringent and a natural antibacterial.” She pulled a small bottle from her pack and dipped her fingers in, then spread it on the wound. “You feel up to flying?”
Quince flexed her wings. “I think so. It’s a superficial wound.”
“You were lucky.” Robyn strapped on her bi-wings.
Quince took one last look around their campsite. “Let’s go.”
Robyn spread her bi-wings and launched herself into the air over the lake.
Quince came up next to her, her own wings pulling her forward through the sky, away from the site of the battle and toward something even more frightening.
JAMESON STOOD in the middle of the clearing holding the key, trying to figure out how to summon a waygate. He’d seen it and felt it in his memories, but now, faced with the actual thing, he was at a loss.
He knew, or thought he knew, how it should be done. He pictured the place he wanted to go—a small white sand beach south of Errian that he’d “seen” in one of his memories—and tried twisting the key.
Nothing happened. The key remained steadfastly quiescent, its amalite finish swirling languidly under his grip.
The four of them—Xander, Alix, Venin, and Jameson—were surrounded by the host of Gaelan, men and women standing arm to arm under the trees around the small clearing. It was a risk to be out in the open. He’d heard at least two hoversports pass over their hidden camp the night before—but he didn’t want to risk interference with the waygate from trees or other impediments. Besides, the host would take to the air soon enough, and there would be no way to hide that.
“Not working?” Xander had been distant since the day before. Jameson understood that, though it pained him. He was still all in with Xander, even if the man didn’t feel the same at the moment. Xander would come around. He hoped.
Jameson opened his mouth to reply.
The ground began to shake, and instinctively he crouched as the quake kicked up dust from the floor of the clearing and shook leaves and cones off the surrounding trees, sending them bouncing across the grassy space.
The shaking continued, setting his teeth on edge, until it suddenly stopped and the woods were silent again. It was over in less than thirty seconds.
“What the hell was that?” Xander asked, looking more angry than scared.
Jameson smiled privately. To Xander an earthquake was probably just one more impediment, one more way the world chose to get in his way. “We just slammed two worlds back together.” He dusted himself off. “We can’t expect them to be bug free just yet.”
Alix nodded. “We’re still in beta test, after all.”
Jameson shook his head. He liked this guy, their earlier dust-up notwithstanding. You weren’t supposed to like your partner’s ex. It just made things more complicated.
“Try it again,” Alix said. “Xander, come here.”
Xander frowned but did as he was told.
“Okay, stand in front of Jameson. Jameson, put your hand on Xander’s chest, like you and I did before.”
Xander undid his shirt.
Alix looked away.
Jameson put his hand on Xander’s warm chest, feeling like an interloper.
“Okay, Xander, breathe in deeply, like I showed you both the other day. Then out. In, and out.” He watched them a moment, then nodded. “Jameson, you feel that?”
Jameson nodded. “I don’t see how—”
“Just try it.”
“Okay.” Alix had helped him before. It couldn’t hurt to try. Jameson closed his eyes. Under his touch, Xander’s chest rose and fell. The calmness there belied the turmoil he must be in. He wanted to shake Xander, to make him understand that, pith or no pith, they belonged together. That it wasn’t too late to talk about this.
Instead, he focused on breathing, matching Xander’s, in and out, in and out, until it was like they were two parts of one organic machine.
“Now,” Alix said softly, “reach out for that memory. The one where you used the key to open a waygate. Do you see it?”
Jameson tried to remember the details. He’d been Elyra….
Elyra stretched her black wings, holding the key aloft. It was warm to her touch. She reached inside.
The key began to glow, and it hummed, too, the vibration traveling up her arms. In her mind, she pictured the place she wanted to go.
She could smell the sea, hear the sound of the waves crashing against the massive stones of Torr Talam, near Errian. Hear the cries of the imprean as they soared over the sea, looking for fish among the waves.
She pushed the image into the key, and the air before her split and tore, opening a doorway between the House of the Sky and the Argent Sea. Still holding the key, she leapt off the balcony and into the rift, to where her lover awaited her.
Jameson opened his eyes. “I think I know how to do it.” He pulled his hand away from Xander’s chest. Xander buttoned his shirt, and for a moment, his eyes were filled with such longing and naked need that it was all Jameson could do not to pull him close.
Then it passed, and Xander turned away, the light gone out of his eyes.
Jameson sighed. It was like there was a pane of plas between them now. “Bring the Gaelani to Torr Talam.” Once he knew how things stood in Errian, they could plan their next step. “I will check there every day at sunset, starting in three days. Maybe we can avoid a war with OberCorp, if we’re lucky.”
Xander nodded, but he didn’t turn around.
He needs time. Perhaps this scouting excursion would let Xander work through the doubts that were plaguing him. Damn you, Quince, for doing this to him. To us.
Jameson held the key in both hands. He closed his eyes, feeling for the place he’d just seen in his memory. Torr Talam, on the Argent Sea just south of Errian. A half-moon beach of white sand, backed by stark black cliffs. An ancient white tower standing on an outcrop overlooking the sea.
He fixed it in his mind, and envisioned pushing it into the key. Using both hands, he twisted the sphere in opposite directions.
It shouldn’t have worked. The key was a solid piece of amalite, as far as he could tell. It should have been impossible to twist, and yet twist it did, the surface swirling in agitation, looking like a miniature gas giant. When it reached 180 degrees, it thrummed with power in his hands.
A collective gasp rose from the crowd.
He opened his eyes to see a waygate open from the ground up, the edges spreading in fractal symmetry across the air until it was about two meters high and four across. A cool beach breeze blew through, and water lapped across the white sand toward the forest side. I did it.
Torr Talam loomed over the scene, built out of white stone. It was cracked and crumbling, but still magnificent. He wondered what it had been like in its heyday, and who had built it. Humans, or something else?
He raised his arm. “Thank you all for taking me in when I came to Gaelan the first time. I will welcome you in Errian soon!”
The assembled host cheered.
&nbs
p; Jameson hoped he could deliver on that promise. He turned back to Xander. “Take your time. I’ll be waiting for you.”
Xander nodded, his lips set in a tight line. “Keep yourself safe,” he managed at last, and turned away to disappear into the crowd.
Jameson watched him go. “Come on,” he said to Alix and Venin. “I don’t know how long it will stay open.”
They picked up their belongings and followed him through the waygate, striding onto the beach.
Jameson turned around, searching the crowd on the other side for Xander. There was no sign of him.
He sighed. With a twist of the key, he closed the waygate.
XANDER WATCHED the waygate shimmer and collapse as Jameson peered through the portal looking for something. Someone. Him.
He regretted not saying goodbye. Who knew what would happen during the next few days, to either of them? He couldn’t help himself. He was suspicious of those feelings too. A few weeks earlier, he had looked upon Jameson with disdain, and then he’d fallen hard. He should have known there was something else at work between them. Something like pith. Xander cursed himself for an idiot.
“Let’s get going!” he hollered, sharper than he intended. “We want to cover as much ground as possible today.” It was a good four- or five-day trip from Gaelan to Errian by wing at the best of times, and these were not the best of times. Plus he had an army to feed, and they only had enough food with them for a couple days.
Xander shook his head. It was too much to worry about right then. He had to deal with one thing at a time.
He pulled on his carry sack and looked around.
Everyone else was waiting on him. “Let’s fly!”
Chapter Thirteen: Storm Warnings
AS QUINCE and Robyn proceeded north, the land beneath them began to change.
The Sléibhte Mora, the mountains that ringed what had been the western boundary of Titania, were covered in clouds, but the valley below and the Riamhwood remained sunny.
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