“You have much to learn yet, Rion. But you are a quick study.”
Gently, she disengaged him from her breast and slid from his body. She disappeared for a few minutes and Rion dropped back on the bed, glowing with warmth and satisfaction. This far surpassed the relief he’d obtained with his own hands. It very nearly matched that first time…
“Tonight, Rion. After dinner. We’ll spend a long evening together. This was only the start.”
She was dressed in her simple gown, her hair tumbling around her shoulders, her lips and face flushed. He tried to remember if he’d kissed her hard enough to make her lips swell.
Carly knelt on the soft mattress and leaned down to kiss him again. When she moved back from his mouth, Hunter swore that he saw her, the room, the entire house through a golden haze of happiness and pleasure.
He listened to her walk to the front door and quietly leave the house, and for long moments afterward, that glowing contentment stayed with him.
But then he sat up and looked at the cottage with its comfortable furnishings. Hunter left the bed and found water to wash the artifacts of sex from his body. He dressed in a pristine white tunic that fit perfectly. The doeskin trousers molded to his body, and soft boots caressed his feet.
A looking glass hung on the wall by the water closet. In it, he saw himself reflected.
It was the first time Rion Hunter ever looked upon himself.
He stared and saw only a stranger, a tall man with broad shoulders and long legs, hair hanging in a deep, vivid spill against the white linen of his tunic. Great feathered wings towered behind his body.
He should know that man, and yet he was a stranger.
The pain in his chest was sharp and grievous. Not knowing what else to do, he found the abandoned lute and picked it up. He played until the sun began to sink in the west and birds settled for the night. He played until his fingers were sore and bleeding. He played until Carly fetched him for dinner and took away the pain in his heart that Rex had left behind.
Hours later, after Carly had left his bed, he got up and played until the sun rose over the horizon.
Chapter Six
The itch on his neck told Rex that someone was watching. He ambled along the Royal Mile, stepping to the side of the street as soldiers tramped through, jumping out of the way as heavy wagons trundled goods to various businesses in the busy city.
He ducked into alleys barely wide enough to accommodate a full-sized man, so he made himself slightly less than full-sized. Rex dodged into shadows and emerged in the sunlight far distant from where he’d initially entered. He was sorely tempted to take the guise of a teen or a child, but that level of charm could pose a hazard all its own, here in the bowels of the city.
As the sun dipped from the sky, hunger gnawed at his belly. Reaching into his pack, he found one of the apples Hunter had given him before he left.
Hunter. No doubt the angel was anxious about his day-long absence. Now he was tired and reluctant to begin the long journey home. He’d have to spend a night as a guest of his aunt.
He bit the apple, smiling at the tart-sweet flesh. Much as he loved life in the human world, he missed the food from home. There were other things he missed as well. Loneliness had long been his companion. Secrecy was a fact of his existence. When he visited home, even for a day or two, his soul was strengthened and rejuvenated. Even his magic grew stronger.
Hunter had alleviated that loneliness. In the months he’d been with Rex, he’d grown and blossomed, and the prospect of losing his company brought a vague ache to Rex’s throat and heaviness to his chest. He feared for his protégé. He feared that Hunter would be unable to cope with the demands of the world. He feared that like Anahita, Kokabiel would ultimately crumble.
Unlike Anahita, he didn’t think Hunter would quietly slip away into a hell of his own making. Hunter could be dangerous. Rion Hunter could truly fall into the grips of darkness. Other than Rex, the angel had formed no deep connections, nor did he seem inclined to do so. Those without compassion were truly hazardous. Rex cursed himself for keeping the man so isolated.
His senses told him he was alone again, unwatched, so Rex casually slipped into a side street leading back to the heart of the Mile. Gnawing on the apple, he moved casually, but watched carefully. Patrick Keenen had taken him by surprise, and the next time Rex made such an error, it could be fatal.
He tossed the apple core into the fetid gutter and broke into a whistle, finally dodging into an alley to begin the dizzying journey back to the hidden doorway. The entrance to the Other Place was hidden in a different spot every time so Rex was forced to stretch himself magically, pushing past illusions and charms to find the door.
This time he passed unchallenged, finally entering a chamber that slowly lightened and brightened, revealing the Other Place. Home.
Humans who still believed in his people said they lived in the fairy mounds, deep under the earth. That was incorrect, but the mistake was understandable. To reach the Other Place, one had to surrender to the Earth’s embrace. The doors and gateways to Home were in old places, so magical they were hidden in plain sight. But the journey was always down, into places hidden deep under the ground.
Brita wasn’t here to meet him this time, so Rex hurried along, worried about the coming confrontation with Hunter. He’d find his aunt. Now that she’d had time to consider the situation, her counsel would be of value.
He emerged from the barrow into the passageway of the palace, the fragrance of the land tickling his nose, the very air soaked into his pores. He grinned, knowing the guise of the aging farmer had fallen away, revealing him as Sidhe, one of the Blessed.
Emerging into the courtyard, Rex found her waiting, exactly as he’d left her. Brita’s golden gown had been exchanged for leaf green and she was in her matron guise, that of a woman of middle years. Oddly, it was this guise that made him most nervous. As matron, she reminded him of his mother. He wondered what sort of lecture she had in store for him.
“Aunt.” He dropped to one knee then rose, waiting for her to speak.
“Reux. We have much to discuss.”
That didn’t sound good. Rex rose to both feet and looked down at her with a bit of puzzlement. The wisteria had been in full bloom when he’d left earlier that day. Now it was fresh green, the buds giving only a hint of the glory to come. He glanced at the sky. Heavy gray clouds hung overhead, the sun broke through in hopeful beams.
He swallowed hard, a very bad feeling settling in his gut.
“What did you do, Guardian?” he asked harshly.
A flicker of something showed on her face, then was vanquished. Guilt? “Aunt. Did you bring me back earlier or later?” Of course, he knew the answer.
“How long has it been? One year? Ten? Twenty?”
He went back to his knees as a wave of fear and guilt washed over him. “For mercy, Brita! How long?”
“Just under one year. I felt that was enough.”
He bowed his head and covered his face, trying his best not to release the anger at her betrayal, or the relief that it wasn’t longer.
“I didn’t get to talk to him first. To warn him.”
“That would have been more cruel, Reux. The decision was taken from you. Your suffering was minimal.”
“And what of his suffering?”
She looked away abruptly and rose, walking to the edge of the flagstones. From here they could see out over the valley. Earlier in Rex’s day, flowers had filled the fields with riotous colors and fragrance. Now, only the fruit trees were in bloom.
“He suffered. Yes, he certainly did suffer. But he proved himself in a way that he couldn’t have accomplished otherwise.”
Brita turned back to him, reaching out to clasp his hand. “He wasn’t—still isn’t—happy, but Hunter has acquitted himself well. He’s proven that he can be a contributing member of society, even if circumstances are not to his liking.”
Rex blinked quickly, clearing the tears from his ey
es. He couldn’t clear his heart so easily. “Did he…? Does he have friends? Lovers?”
“He gets along well with everyone. He’s close to Tam and Halsey, and spends a good amount of time with them. Once he discovered music…” She trailed off for a moment. “And at the start, he and Carly were close.”
“Lovers, you mean.”
She nodded. “Only for a short time. My admiration began to grow for him during their relationship. He could have given himself over to her forgetfulness. Instead, he refused to stay nights with her, though he craved the peace she gave him. He eventually put an end to their relationship.”
Carly was of a clan of Sidhe related to the nymphs of Greek mythos. Her particular gifts forgetfulness and seduction. In her arms, a married man would forego wife and children. She was seductive as opium. No person ever loved Carly, they became addicted to her. Even Rex had spent countless hours of bliss in her enchanted arms, only to find himself in a confused stupor when she moved on to her next lover. He felt rather sad for her at times, but she seemed unscathed by her nature.
Rex was impressed at the fortitude of the angel.
“And since that time?”
“He accepts what is offered, whether it is friendship or more. He is kind to all, but attached to few. If he grieves for you, he does it in silence.”
They walked together down another flagstone path. This one led to the palace where Brita kept her rooms.
“You believe he is not truly fallen?”
“He is stable and benevolent. I don’t know why he was forced from his home, but over the years, there have been many like him. The two of you need to talk and decide what your future holds. It’s time for him to leave now.”
She paused at a doorway that led into the kitchens. “He stays in the small cottage that you favor. He has been keeping to himself these past days. If you choose, the two of you can stay for a time. I’ll return you to the appropriate time when you leave.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t. I’m afraid I hurt him deeply. Though it was for a valid purpose, I still feel guilt. I simply chose the shortest path to the answer. I could have caused more damage than if I’d allowed the situation to unfold naturally.” As he watched, she cycled quickly through her incarnations, finally settling on the Maiden. Her hair glistened like snow in the sunshine, her face held the beauty of the spring.
“I’m afraid it was me who made the choice. It seemed the kindest to you, if not to him. I’m very sorry, Reux. I hope you can forgive me.”
He could never resist Brita in this form. Rex took her soft hand and bowed deeply over it.
“I hope he can forgive me, Guardian.”
She was mighty, but not infallible.
* * * *
The cottage was the same, yet different.
The comfortable furnishings were all the same, but bunches of fresh flowers in rough bundles decorated the room. Herbs dried from the ceiling rafters, just as they did in the cottage at the croft. That brought a smile to Rex’s face.
From outside in the back garden, soft strains of music carried. His old lute was in its place in the corner. Rex picked it up and tested the strings. They were in perfect tune. Clearly, Hunter had found a new way to fill his time. He gave a tentative pluck to the bass string and closed his eyes in pleasure. The sound was as mellow and rich as ever.
Carrying the instrument, he made his way to the back door of the cottage and stood listening to the gentle strains of a guitar floating on the air. No doubt he’d borrowed the instrument from Halsey, whose life outside was as a maker of stringed instruments. Like all of the Sidhe, Halsey and his wife Tam had to take occasional breaks to disappear and come back as someone else.
Hunter’s finger’s faltered on the strings, and he returned to repeat the passage until he’d mastered it. He then went back to the beginning of the song and started again. It was a rustic folksong, his husky voice lifted in a hauntingly beautiful accompaniment to the angelic sound of his guitar.
As the music faded to a close, Rex brought the lute up and deftly fingered the strings, weaving a complicated melody. From the corner of his eye, he could see Hunter look up in surprise, and go very still.
Fine knacks for ladies, cheap choice brave and new,
Good pennyworth, but money cannot move.
I keep a fair, but for the fair to view,
A begger may be liberal of love.
Though all my wares be trash, the heart is true.
He allowed the old Dowland madrigal to roll off the lute, enjoying the sound of his voice as it vanished into the spring air. Rex knew he wasn’t the most accomplished of musicians, yet found great pleasure in the playing.
“Why did you never play the lute before?”
Rex gave a slight flourish to the end of the song and smiled as the notes drifted away. After carefully setting the instrument down, he looked at Hunter, whose eyes were unusually bright. The angel still wore every feeling on his face, plain to read.
“I suppose in the Earthly world, I get so involved in the day-to-day battle to survive, I forget about the fine things. And sadly, those are the things that allow us to enjoy life.”
He sat on a wooden bench facing Hunter. The crushed gravel path separated the two. Hunter looked away, back down at the guitar he cradled on his lap.
“You’ve learned to play very well. I’m very impressed.”
Hunter’s fingers wandered idly over the fretboard of the guitar, but he didn’t answer.
“I owe you an apology. I am very sorry I didn’t come back.”
“Brita says that you didn’t know.” His hands paused and finally he looked up, a world of pain in those cobalt eyes.
“That is true. But somehow it doesn’t make me feel better. I doubt it makes you feel better either.” He sighed and rested his head on his hands, watching as a beetle made its way awkwardly from the gravel to the grass. “In truth, I had something like this in mind, but I intended to talk with you first.”
“Why? Why was it so important that we be separated?”
“Because I was falling in love with you, Hunter. Because, in a sense, you were a child and needed to grow up. I couldn’t take advantage of you that way, Hunter. I couldn’t.”
There. He’d said it. It might be a monumental mistake, but at this point he couldn’t go any further astray with the angel than he’d already gone. Rex put all his focus into following the path of the beetle. When the rain came later in the day, the wee beastie would simply wash back down onto the gravel path, but it persevered, going back to whatever hole it called home.
“I often imagined your return. Sometimes, I believed I’d fall upon you and beat you. I wanted blood. Other times, I dreamed we’d fall into one another’s arms and embrace without saying a word. But then I’d remember you probably hadn’t missed me at all.”
Rex took a chance and looked up, seeing the light of anger in Hunter’s eyes. He’d never seen Hunter angry before.
“Do you understand? You’ve been away from me a day, Rex. I’ve been without you a year.”
“I understand.” His throat was tight. Clearly, while his infatuation with Hunter was fresh, the angel had used the time to move on.
“My aunt… Brita says that your time here is at an end. We’ve got to make plans for your life in the human realm.”
“Do I have a say in my future?”
“Of course.” Shame filled Rex as he remembered all the actions they’d taken without ever asking Hunter what he wanted. But a year ago, it was doubtful he could have made a clear, informed decision. Now he could.
“Rex, when you leave this place, what do you plan? Are you going home? To the croft?”
“For a time. I’ve been there long enough that the villagers are beginning to suspect things are strange. Soon it will be time to leave again. I’ll come back here and Brita will send me forward a decade.”
“I wish to go with you.”
Rex looked at him in surprise. Hunter sat upright, his face c
omposed, though his eyes were overly bright. His bright hair gleamed in one thick braid that fell forward over his shoulder. He kept his wings folded, but still, they rose above his head in a great arch. It was another non-verbal sign of his anger.
“I’ve been without you for a year. In that time, I’ve come to realize that in spite of my anger and my resentment, I care for you deeply. Love, if you wish. At the start, I thought I’d die for missing you, Rex. Yet I survived and moved on. I learned much, and I made friends. I’ve learned to love a woman’s body and to sing with my hands instead of my voice.” He rose and crossed the path, kneeling in front of Rex. “I will do anything to not part with you again, Rex, but if you choose otherwise, I will survive and make the best life I can.”
“God, Hunter!” Rex’s voice was choked with tears, and he fell to his knees as well, facing the other man. “You are a much, much better person than I am.”
Hunter caught him by the forearms, holding Rex steady for a moment. He broke loose and reached up, grasping the angel’s head, pulling him close. Slowly, uncertainly, Hunter relaxed forward until his head rested on Rex’s shoulder. Rex felt him reach around, holding him tightly, pulling them close. Hunter remained there, quiet and seemingly passive, yet when Rex moved, he followed, not allowing the embrace to end.
Rex fisted his thick braid, looping it over his hand, and cradled the angel’s head.
“I won’t leave you again, Hunter. Not until you want me to go.”
Finally, Hunter drew a breath that sounded like a sob. He pulled closer to Rex till they touched along every inch of their bodies. Another sob escaped, then another. Oddly, Rex felt reassured at the angel’s show of emotion. Rion had feelings that ran deep. He stroked Hunter’s silky hair, murmuring soft reassurances in his ear.
“Hunter.” He tugged on the thick braid until Hunter’s head came up and Rex could clearly see his tear-reddened eyes. “It will all be well,” he murmured.
Falling Page 5