by Nichols, TJ
“What?” Angus put his hand in the water. He frowned as though he could force the connection. “The water’s moving?”
The tenga lifted their heads and looked around, ears laid flat against their heads as they chirped at each other. Some moved away from the water’s edge. They sensed it too.
“Get back,” Saka ordered.
Angus and Saka scrambled away from the edge. A couple of heartbeats later, the lake erupted. Something dark sped across the surface, and the tenga ran and scattered—except one that was too slow to get away from the edge. It was dragged under. After another couple of breaths, the water was still.
Both he and Angus were on their asses, a couple of body lengths from the edge. Even though Saka knew what it was and that it preferred deer, his heartbeat was as erratic as it had been with lust not that long before.
“Riverwyrm?” Angus asked. His eyes were wide and fixed on the water.
“Yes. That is why we don’t swim in the lakes.” Around them the world was too quiet. They were far from the tribes and the noise of life.
Angus nodded. “Maybe we should get back.”
While he wouldn’t admit it, that was exactly what Saka had been thinking. It would be best if the morning were forgotten entirely—much like the tenga, which had forgotten the riverwyrm and had already returned to drink and graze.
Chapter Five
Angus’s body ached, but it always did after one of Saka’s rituals—part fatigue and partly too much delayed pleasure. The side of Saka that he glimpsed when they were alone by the lake had been replaced again with the mage who would do anything for his world. His skin tightened at the memory, and heat washed through his veins. He wasn’t sure which he preferred, the heat and the rush that left him tender or the prolonged pleasure and the release of magic.
He’d spent two weeks in Demonside recovering from his father’s failed attempt to kill him, and it was almost nice to step across the void and back home. Except that it was freezing cold and the Warlock College had declared him a rogue warlock. If they found him, he’d be locked up somewhere filled with magic dampeners.
The floor was cold beneath his bare feet. He was used to the sand that was warm despite the rain. He missed the heat already, though not the humidity. That had started to make him feel like he was never dry, even when he was in the tent.
The other trainees had returned with him, and they seemed to be in a similar state of freezing. They rubbed their arms and stared out the window at the falling snow. Winter had well and truly set in, though it was only autumn.
Angus shivered.
A couple of underground warlocks watched. They wore masks because they were still affiliated with the college and didn’t want their identities revealed—in case they ended up like him, wanted for being rogues. The wizards didn’t cover their faces because they had nothing to hide.
“The debriefing will start in half an hour. Put on some appropriate clothes,” a masked man said.
Some of the trainees had adopted demon-style clothes while they were across the void. It made sense to dress as a demon, given how hot it was there. Angus glanced at Jim, who was holding Lizzie’s hand. Had he told her that the only reason he and Angus had split up was because Angus’s father had bribed him? Probably not. He hadn’t spoken to Jim since that day at the cairn, and he had nothing to say.
The trainees dispersed to their rooms in the building the underground used as their base. Would anyone have bothered to get him clothes? He opened the door and was surprised to see not just clothes, but his clothes. He picked up a shirt and held it to his face. It smelled of the cheap-scented laundry powder he’d bought—summer scents or something. It didn’t smell like summer at all, or was he thinking of the spice on the air in Demonside?
Three pairs of his shoes were neatly lined up, and so were some of the books that had been on his desk at college. Someone had gathered his things before the college could either confiscate or trash the whole lot.
Terrance.
As though magic summoned him, Terrance appeared in the corridor. Angus grinned at the former rugby-playing warlock. He was the best part of returning to Vinland, but Angus was never sure of what they had. His heart didn’t care. With Terrance there was nothing but pure attraction and affection and the potential to be more. What he had with Saka was complicated and heady and best consumed in small doses at the risk of being consumed himself. But he kept going back, though he knew there was no future beyond mage and apprentice. He couldn’t let himself fall for Saka, no matter how easy it would be to do—some days he thought he was halfway there.
Even though he liked Terrance, he wasn’t going to be a fool again. He didn’t want to admit it, but Jim’s betrayal chafed. Would warlocks convince everyone he was close to that they should turn on him?
“I heard the trainees had returned.” Terrance’s gaze slid down Angus’s body and then snapped back to his face. He smiled as though nothing had changed, as though Angus hadn’t been away.
But so much had changed. “Yeah.”
“And you’re okay?”
Angus nodded. He didn’t want to talk about what had happened. “You?”
“Still trying to figure out what I’m going to do with my life, now I can’t finish college.”
“Not even a nonmagical college?”
Terrance shook his head. “The Warlock College made sure no one would touch me. Professional Rugby Association is interested, though. I have a meeting next week.”
“You’d be playing for the PRA?”
“Yeah, which is all I wanted in the first place. Should never have taken the scholarship offer.”
“If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met you.” As he said it, he wondered if Terrance felt the same. Angus’s presence in his life hadn’t exactly been what one would call a positive influence. But Terrance had been part of the underground long before Angus started college. And Terrance had known the college was dishonest when he took the scholarship.
“True.” Terrance took a few steps closer. “I got your things.”
“Thank you.” Angus meant that. It was comforting to have his things. He had so little on that side of the void. He held Terrance’s dark gaze for a moment. There was no blame or hurt there, only heat. Angus’s lips twitched. “Do I want to know how?”
“No. Better that you don’t.”
That probably meant Terrance had broken into the college to get them. “You didn’t have to do anything dangerous. You could’ve bought me some new things. I’m sure the underground has funds for that.”
“What’s the fun in that? It was nice to show the college up one last time. Their rooftop security isn’t that great. Nor is flying by dragon.” Terrance rolled his shoulders.
“Pinches under the arm.” Angus had been carried by winged demons, known as dragons, and their claws tended to dig into the soft tissue.
Terrance nodded.
“I’m going to throw on something warmer.” His toes were numb. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be warm again. “Did you want to come in?” His cheeks heated, and it wasn’t sunburn. Whenever he was around Terrance, he fumbled as though he had no idea what he was doing.
They hadn’t been on a date yet, but they’d fallen into bed once. It had been so nice to have something nonmagical in his life. The idea that he had someone waiting for him was very appealing. But it was because of him that Terrance’s demon had been killed and Terrance had been questioned by the college and wore the bruises to prove it.
There was a moment of hesitation, and Angus’s heart sank. Then Terrance stepped forward.
“Sure.” Terrance closed the door behind him and sat on the only chair in the room.
For a couple of heartbeats, Angus didn’t know what to say. “So, what’s changed while I’ve been away?”
Angus pulled off the damp shirt and looked for a place to hang it. The room was even smaller than his room at college, but at least he had somewhere to stay while he was in Vinland—somewhere safe to stay. He p
ut his shirt on a coat hanger, which he then hung on the wardrobe door. Hopefully it would dry.
“Not much. The college is still blaming demons and the underground for the weather. The early winter meant some crops weren’t harvested. They’re talking rations—real rations, not just asking everyone to reduce waste and so on. I read that if summer is shorter or colder this year, there may be no successful crops in Vinland at all. Food will have to be imported.”
If Vinland had nothing to spare, it wouldn’t be just humans going hungry. There’d be nothing to send across to Demonside. “What about the other magic-using countries?”
“The underground says there’s talk of sanctioning Vinland. It’s not just Vinland suffering. And the places that have banned magic are apparently banding together to point out the evils of magic use. You won’t hear that on any official news source, though.”
Angus stripped off his pants, and Terrance looked away. Living in Demonside had made Angus too comfortable with being naked. “What sources are you listening to?”
He pulled on dry clothing and socks. The fabric rubbed against his skin, but he ran his hands over his pants and luxuriated in the feel of dry clothing. It didn’t cling or suck at his skin, but it was heavy and much thicker than what he was used to wearing across the void. He shrugged into his old, familiar jacket. He needed the extra layer to be warm.
“Other countries have an online network. Some people showed me how to access it.”
“Is it real news?” Or were the other countries creating propaganda?
“Yeah. It’s not like Vinland said out there. Sure, there are places that kill all magic users, but there are other places that use demon magic like us. But they aren’t our allies either.”
Angus frowned. “You’d think the Warlock College would want allies.”
“You would, wouldn’t you?” Terrance lifted an eyebrow.
“Does that mean the underground has allies in these other countries?”
Terrance shrugged. “I’m not that high up. I run errands. That’s all. And if I get drafted by the PRA, then I won’t be doing that either.”
And it would be that much harder to see Terrance if he wasn’t around. Angus stared at his striped socks. He wanted to keep seeing Terrance. There was still the untaken first date. It was supposed to be a movie, but that had never happened. He couldn’t ask Terrance to continue fighting with the underground when he’d already lost more than he ever planned on giving up. “I hope I get to see you play.”
“I’d like that.” Terrance smiled. “We can’t go out at the moment, but I’m sure we could catch up or something while you’re here?” Uncertainty had crept into Terrance’s voice.
“I hope so.” Every time Angus came back, they had to rebuild the fragile thing between them.
Terrance reached out a hand. Angus took it, and Terrance drew him onto his lap so they were face-to-face. Terrance kissed him. It was soft and undemanding. He settled his hands on Angus’s hips. Angus put his arms around Terrance’s neck.
It was too easy to slide into Terrance’s embrace. Maybe they didn’t have anything but sex. Maybe that was all he was good for on both sides of the void. He should pull away until he knew what was going on, but he didn’t. His skin was sensitive, but the desire Saka had so carefully coaxed and fed the night before was still warm, and it caught fire with the simple kiss.
His hunger was never quite met across the void because there was too much going on and too much to do, but it had almost been sated when he was by the lake with Saka.
He traced Terrance’s lip with his tongue and let the heat rise. The kiss deepened, and Terrance pulled him closer. Hardness pressed against him. There would be no pleading for release with Terrance. That alone was tempting.
A knock on the door shattered the moment and reminded Angus he still had things to do before he could relax. Those occasions were becoming few and far between. For a heartbeat he considered walking away from the underground the way Terrance planned to do. But he couldn’t. He’d never be able to look in the mirror, knowing he’d done nothing but sit by and watch two worlds die. So he drew back and looked at Terrance. Terrance had believed in the fight and that he could make a difference. But where once idealism had lit his eyes, there was only doubt.
How much did he have to give before the battle took everything? He glanced down, and Terrance kissed his forehead.
The person knocked again.
“Coming,” Angus called out. Then in a softer voice he added, “How about tonight?”
“I’ll arrange something, since you have meetings.” Terrance smiled, and warmth bloomed in Angus. Terrance might have lost his desire to fight, but there was plenty of other desire left.
Angus gave him a last kiss and got up. “I look forward to it.”
Angus listened as some of the trainees talked about their shock at the human sacrifices. But the leaders of the underground didn’t want to hear about that. They wanted to know what the trainees were being taught, and that all depended on the demon who was doing the teaching and the trainee. There was no standard syllabus, and that didn’t impress the leaders. They wanted to be able to tick off a list of things the trainees had learned, like they did at Warlock College. Most of the trainees had spent their time in Demonside having their abilities and interests assessed and learning how to draw up large quantities of magic.
Eventually they were dismissed, and Angus was left alone with the leaders. He swallowed and tried to ignore the coiling sensation in his gut, even though he knew better.
They wanted to know about the mage who was bound to a warlock and what kind of information she had given him. Angus wasn’t sure, but he knew the mages discussed what would be revealed, not that he would confess that. It wasn’t going to be much better when he admitted that he was no longer part of the rituals on Lifeblood, but at least they’d stop asking him questions he didn’t want to answer. His admission that he stepped aside because he wasn’t ready to be on Lifeblood didn’t go down well.
The leaders scowled and wanted to know why he’d give up the power. They didn’t understand that it wasn’t about power.
Had they been hoping he’d betray the mages’ secrets?
He should be able trust the leaders. They were part of the fight to save both worlds… but shouldn’t they be more interested in stopping the college than in what happened up on Lifeblood? Why weren’t they doing something? Maybe they were, but they didn’t trust him enough.
He held their stares, their eyes dark behind their masks—no names, just faceless warlocks. They seemed to outnumber the wizards. The leaders drew away to the other side of the room to confer. They could’ve let him leave first. There were things he wanted to do while he was on this side of the void and many more that he couldn’t do, in case he was recognized and arrested. Instead he sat on the cold wooden chair and waited.
Angus studied his nails. They needed to be cut and cleaned. In Demonside he hadn’t worried or noticed. His hands were rough, with cracked nails and calluses and dirt ingrained around his joints. Around his forearm was a tan line where his shirt ended and his unprotected skin had gotten browner—not that he really got a tan. He just seemed to get a denser scattering of freckles. His feet were tougher from being barefoot all the time. He wriggled his toes in his joggers. They were his favorite pair, his most comfortable shoes and yet he couldn’t wait to take them off so he could be barefoot or at least pad around in socks.
He glanced up as the murmurs across the room died down. They were done talking, and he was sure he wasn’t going to like their decision.
“We will need to speak with Warlock Dentin about his demon,” the tall man in the mask said.
Angus frowned. They were going to ruin what was happening if they spoke to him. “But the demons are feeding him false information.”
“And some truth. It’s too dangerous to leave him where he can do damage.”
Damage to whom? The person most at risk was Dentin’s demon. “What are you g
oing to do?”
“That doesn’t matter to you. You will be the lure. That’s all you need to know.” The man dismissed Angus’s concerns with a flick of his fingers.
Bait. They wanted him to be bait and to go against what the council of mages had voted for. “The mages thought it best—”
“Are you a human or a demon?” one of the leaders snapped. His voice was harsh from behind the safety of his mask.
Angus flinched. He curled his fingers, and magic slid toward him as though he were herding dust bunnies to do his bidding. He wanted to rip their masks off. Maybe they would be more reasonable if people knew who they were. He drew a breath and swallowed but didn’t let the magic go. “Human.”
Although sometimes he wasn’t sure. Sometimes when he was in Demonside, he felt demon. They treated him as one of them. Other times, when there was something he should know but didn’t, he felt like an ignorant tourist—human and confused. When he was in Vinland, he didn’t know what he was, only that he didn’t fit.
He didn’t fit anywhere—not Demonside, not college, not with the underground.
“Then you’ll do as you’re asked. We must take down the college before we’re all trapped in an ice age no one can break.”
That was something they had in common. It should be their only goal. “Rebalance more magic.” That was the way to stop the advancing ice and the longer winters, but they knew that.
From the way they looked at him, it was clear they thought him stupid. “It’s gone beyond that.”
Angus doubted it. He’d seen the rain in Demonside. He’d watched trees grow in hours, stood beneath a fingerfruit tree and fed it his blood, watched it fruit and, at dusk, eaten what he helped create. Rebalancing changed everything.
That was also the reason why Demonside would eventually suck him dry and kill him if he stayed there too long. The more he gave, the less time he could spend there. That was the balance. He needed to come back to his side of the void to refill.