by Nichols, TJ
The tram rolled down the street, and people got on and off. As they made their way through the city, Kabil pointed out the damage done by the shock wave.
“If you look to the left, the red building with the frieze of ball players is the pitz training school.”
Angus’s heart leaped into his throat. Terrance was so close and yet unreachable. Angus stared out the window until the red building was gone.
How did people go past it so casually? “Will they all eventually die?”
“We all eventually die. But no.”
Angus frowned and looked at Kabil. “I thought the game was played to the death.”
“Some are. Some are just played. Excitement is generated either way. The final match is always to the death. Did you expect an endless tide of blood?”
He wanted to nod, but he didn’t. “So he may not play to the death?”
Kabil winced. “He has been put in that division. The crowd will want to see Vinnish blood.”
People on the tram looked at them more than once. They would know they were speaking Vinnish even if they couldn’t understand it, and their stares were as hard as knife blades. If Angus were to walk about on his own, some might let their anger and frustration out on him, even though he wasn’t to blame.
Angus couldn’t keep apologizing for his country. He needed to do something to stop them, but if the best priests and other magic users had failed, what could he do?
He stared out the window, barely listening to Kabil. He might no longer be locked up, but he wasn’t exactly free to wander. Kabil touched him on the arm at their stop. Angus followed and stayed closer than he probably needed to, but he took note of landmarks so he’d know the stop for another time. They went into a few stores, and Angus bought some extra clothes. Kabil explained that everyone had a weekly allowance and that he’d need to buy any luxury food items. The food they were served in the mess hall would be very basic.
He let Kabil pick what he needed. That included something that wasn’t coffee but would wake him up, although Angus wasn’t convinced that anything made of cocoa and chili was going to be a good drink first thing in the morning. With the shopping done, they entered the plaza proper. Demons and humans walked through the plaza, shopping and talking as though it were perfectly normal. Angus wanted to stop and watch, but Kabil didn’t pause at any of the stalls, nor did he take Angus inside any of the buildings that framed the outer area, even though he said there were movies and plays and bars there where people and demons could socialize.
Together? How could they exist so closely but not be intimate?
Demons were treated differently here, as if they weren’t different at all. He wanted to linger, but Kabil led him on. They slipped through another archway and into a much smaller courtyard. This one had a more private feel. There were stalls, but they seemed to only sell alcohol.
“What is this place?” There were more demons there, and magic was thick in the air.
Kabil smiled. “This is where humans and demons mingle much more… closely.”
The way he said closely implied something more than mingling. “Cadmael said that shouldn’t happen.”
“It shouldn’t happen between a mage and priest… or warlock.” Kabil glanced at Angus. “What title do you use?”
“I don’t know.” He hadn’t thought about it. He didn’t want to be a warlock, never had. But he wasn’t a priest either. He wasn’t Mayan, and one day he’d like to go home… to even have a home.
Kabil made a sound of disapproval, as though Angus’s preferred title was a major concern. “There are no prohibitions on any other human getting close to a demon. We keep the magic moving in any way we can. In the same way that humans are curious about demons, they’re curious about us, and people come here to find out. Some come here on a regular basis, especially those with magic in their blood but no formal training.”
“So wizards can do whatever they want.”
“No. Lay priests can’t do anything but offer charms. We regulate magic for safety. But we also make training free. We want people to develop their skills. Most of the humans here have no magic but want to experience some. I thought you might like to come because you like demon sex.”
Angus lowered his gaze as heat rushed to his cheeks. It had never been about liking demon sex. He wasn’t sure he even liked it the first time, because it had been so wound up with rebalancing. It was unlike anything he’d done before—intense and heady. The memory was enough to make his blood heat.
“Go on. Find a demon. I’ll wait.”
“But I’m a… I have a demon.”
“Yes, and you can’t have sex with him, but there’s nothing stopping you from being with a different one. There are male ones here. You do prefer men?”
He walked away and had his card scanned so he could buy a drink. The alcohol was dark and bitter and cut right through him. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stomach a second cup, but he’d need more than that to continue this conversation.
Kabil followed. “You don’t want to be here.”
That wasn’t entirely true. Angus was intrigued. “Do the demons?”
Kabil stepped back, horrified. “We do not enslave demons. They come here to take back the magic they gather. Small-scale rebalancing has a place, and magic circulates as it is supposed to. You have enough money for a visit if that’s what concerns you.”
Angus finished his drink with a shudder that ran all the way down his spine. Whatever that was, he wouldn’t drink it again. He should’ve gone with the red option, and he would soon if Kabil kept talking. “It’s not the money.”
“No one watches… unless you like that.”
“You’ve been here?”
“Once, just to see what it was all about.”
Angus shook his head. “I… umm… I couldn’t. Not with anyone but Saka.”
“But you have Terrance? You are intimate with him too?”
Did he still have Terrance and Saka? Or had he lost everyone he cared about? He hadn’t seen Lizzie or the others since they arrived. Words formed, but they melted. He sighed and went with the simplest explanation he had. “I love them both. I’m not going to pay for random demon sex.”
He knew he shouldn’t love them, but he couldn’t help it.
“Oh.” Kabil glanced away. “Don’t tell Cadmael that.”
Angus hadn’t wanted to tell anyone. He’d never even told Saka. It was a mistake he wouldn’t make again.
“Let’s soak up the magic, and then I’ll teach you how to create a translate talisman.” Kabil bought two more drinks—red ones—and they sat beneath a tree.
Sounds of sex and laughter drifted out on the night air. The hollowness inside Angus expanded. Kabil had brought him out to have fun, and all he wanted was to go back to a time when the people he loved were sleeping on either side of him. Sure they’d been slowly dying in the desert, their life and magic being leached out, and they’d been too exhausted to do more than sleep, but each night Saka had been on one side and Terrance the other. He should have said something then, made it clear how important they were to him.
“Saka gave me this.” He lifted his hair to reveal the jade spike in his ear. He’d healed the ear, but the jade still got hot and made his ear throb.
Kabil smiled and nodded. “He shouldn’t have, but I guess you’ll have no problem understanding the lectures.”
“No one will understand me. How much are you going to tell Cadmael?”
“About a third of the priests speak Vinnish. Though most will probably ignore you. As for Cadmael, I’ll answer his questions, but I won’t volunteer information.”
“Why?”
“Because what we’ve been doing has only stalled the ice age, not stopped it. You don’t do magic like the others. You survived the clean sweep. No magic user has ever done that. It scared Cadmael.”
Angus bit back a laugh. He wasn’t scary at all, unless his inability to use magic properly counted as terrifying. “I want to see S
aka.”
“Then you’ll need to go through the doorway to him. You don’t have approval for that.”
“I’ll summon him.” Or at least he’d try. How long until Saka would respond, or would he think it all a trap? He needed to speak to Saka… or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he could get a message through to him.
“He hasn’t been responding when you try.” Kabil sipped his drink. “Cadmael will reach a point where he sends you across to sort this out.”
And Angus wouldn’t be surprised if Cadmael left him there. At the moment that didn’t seem like an all-bad idea. He sighed and slumped against the wall, still not sure what to do next. But he had to do something, and tonight seemed like his best chance. “How long until the next attack?”
“They won’t attack Uxmal for a while. They’ve been moving from city to city. The Institute for Magical Studies and World Council of Demonology will probably make official statements over the next couple of days.”
“But they won’t do anything. No one is doing anything.”
“Bombing another country and killing innocents isn’t the first step.”
“It’s what Vinland is doing to everyone else.”
“And we’re not them.” He turned the glass in his hand. “Military strikes are planned. This latest act of aggression might be enough to make it happen. My uncle belongs to the Military Temple. He said that, despite the magic, it would come to blood on the ground. He knew the Vinnish wouldn’t stop.”
“It’s not the people. Just a few at the top.”
Kabil lifted his gaze. “Your people could’ve stepped up fifty years ago or ten years ago. But they didn’t. So few did so little, even as the noose tightened. Did you not realize something was wrong?”
Angus stared at his drink. It was sweet like berries with a burn that almost made him sweat… though that could be the humidity. “I thought it was normal. I didn’t realize how broken my country was.” He downed the rest of his drink. What was normal anyway?
He didn’t feel like a freak for enjoying sex with Saka or Terrance. People came here to lie with demons and demons to lie with humans. Those demons went back to Demonside to take gathered magic with them. Angus stood. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m going in.”
He didn’t wait for Kabil to answer. The scent of heady perfumes and the sweet roil of sex magic washed over him. He drew a breath and couldn’t help but be aroused. The magic in his blood crashed around his body seeking an escape. His dick hardened in anticipation.
A few of the humans eyed him warily. The demons were more intrigued. Angus checked out a couple and decided on a feathered male with teeth like little knives. He walked over and pretended he’d done that a million times, when he had no idea what he was supposed to do.
The demon stood and beckoned without a word, his erection pressing against his pants. Angus followed, his heart beating so fast he was sure it was going to explode in all the wrong ways. But he needed to get this done before he changed his mind.
Chapter Twelve
The nerves were the same as before any game. Terrance couldn’t sit still. Instead he paced and ran through the different plays he’d been taught. It was a relief that everyone had been trained the same, graded the same, and placed into their appropriate divisions. It seemed that the results weren’t rigged. But then, the game was close to sacred, and cheating was probably not a good look.
He knew enough to understand the commands and to ask for simple things. Only a few spoke Vinnish, but for the most part, he kept to himself. After the attack few wanted to associate with him. While it stung, he understood.
There were to be three blood matches—one from each of the divisions. The losers would die at the end.
He didn’t know when that happened or how, and he wasn’t that keen to find out, especially since everyone expected him to do the right thing and give up his life as some kind of apology for the shitty behavior of the Vinnish warlocks.
Fuck that. He never went onto the field, or court, to lose.
For the first time, his life actually depended on winning. All those other games he’d played—the finals in grade school, the matches for the selectors from the colleges—they didn’t mean shit.
If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in what he wanted—to get out of Vinland—he might have seen the bigger picture. He ran his hand over his freshly shaved head. He didn’t like that or the loincloth uniform. He was used to wearing a whole lot more.
Well, he had gotten out of Vinland. At least he could check that off his wish list.
The door opened in the hall where the players waited, and people walked in. His heart got stuck on one of his ribs and quivered there like a dying bug. Not long to go now. This was the last visit from a family member—only one per player. Everyone was entitled to one, but not everyone would get a visitor.
Some of the men were sitting down on the sides of the room as though they didn’t care that no one was coming for them, and a couple he knew to be criminals had offered themselves to the game for a chance at a reduced sentence.
Terrance couldn’t stop himself from scanning the steady stream of brown-haired visitors as they entered. He couldn’t raise his hopes. That would be stupid. He had to focus on the game and keep calm, yet tension jangled his nerves. It was no different from any other game. He couldn’t think about the consequences, only of what he needed to do. But he didn’t believe the lies. It wasn’t just any game.
It could be his last.
He shook out his hands, trying to shed the nervous energy, and he was about to turn away from the door and the desperation that made him want Angus to be there when he saw familiar red hair.
He couldn’t have stopped the smile if he tried. He only just kept himself from walking over. Then he gave up. He met Angus halfway and wrapped his arms around him. Maybe if he didn’t let go, it would all stop. He’d wake up and they’d be back at college, wrapped around each other in bed after spending too much of the night talking about magic and demons.
“I almost didn’t recognize you.” Angus brushed his palm over Terrance’s head. “It’s rather dramatic.”
“It’s regulation.”
“I like the uniform.” He smoothed his hand down Terrance’s bare back.
“Thought you would.” For a moment his world was normal. He was going to play a game, and his boyfriend was there to watch. That was a good thing. Think of the good things, the ones worth living for. “There’s protective gear for the actual game.”
Angus blinked, and his eyes were too shiny.
“Don’t,” Terrance muttered. If Angus broke, then he might also.
No one else was shedding tears about what was about to happen. Around them, everyone was happy and talking as though there were no room for sadness. For everyone else this was their thing. It happened frequently and was considered an honor to play—only model prisoners could even apply—and not everyone who volunteered was accepted. He didn’t want to cheapen that. If he did die, it would mean something. He wasn’t sure what, but something.
But it would hurt Angus. Terrance swallowed the swelling in his throat.
“I was worried after the attack. That was all,” Angus said.
“That was….” Close. It had been far too close. He’d been outside only half an hour before. They all had. “I thought it was an earthquake at first.”
Angus still hadn’t let him go. His arms were looped around Terrance’s waist. “What happens after the game?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I have to keep playing.” He hadn’t asked, and he didn’t need to know until after the game. He had to focus on today. “What about you? Are you still locked in your tower?”
“No, I’m back at college… Training Temple.” He shrugged. “I’ve been trying to piece things together and get in touch with Saka. He won’t answer my summons, but I’ve sent him a message.”
“So you don’t have an anchor?” Was there still room for him? He wanted to know more about what was going on, but he didn’t
want those thoughts tumbling in his head when he needed to concentrate on the game. He just needed to know he was wanted.
“You will always be my anchor.” Angus kissed him softly on the lips and didn’t pull back. They stayed like that for a moment, sealed together from hip to lip.
Screw it. If he was going to die, he wanted more than that as his last kiss. He cupped Angus’s head and kissed him hard. Angus’s mouth opened to him, and Terrance took everything that was offered.
There would be a feast later, after the games. He’d get a chance to celebrate.
His lungs burned, but he didn’t care. Angus moved against him and pressed close. The loincloth would hide nothing, but the need in his blood was a magic all its own. It wrapped around him—around them—but it wouldn’t keep them safe.
A bell sounded. The visit was over.
He drew back a little, not ready to let go. “I’ll see you after this.” Hold on to that thought. If his teammate fucked up and let the ball touch the ground, Terrance would kill him before the ritual sacrifice.
Angus didn’t look convinced. His mouth was set in a thin line.
“Playing ball is what I’m good at.” Was he good enough? He’d won games during training. That had to count for something.
“I know.” Angus nodded and forced a smile that was more grimace.
People were leaving. Angus held his hand, and Terrance squeezed it hard. “I’m glad we made it here. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The bell sounded again. Terrance released Angus’s hand and stepped back.
This death had honor. Being shot like a dog in Vinland would have had none.
Terrance couldn’t see the game being played, but the charge in the air was something close to a thunderstorm. The magic rippled over his skin. There were no dampeners to stop the magic from gathering. Instead it roiled over the ground in a mist he could feel but not see.
There were cheers and gasps. The blood matches were spread out during the event, but it didn’t seem to matter. Even if the stakes were low, the anticipation of the crowd still fed the magic.