by L Ward
The ass opened his mouth to say something, but his jaw slammed shut when Nath slipped an arm around Evan’s back and greeted him with a handsome smile.
The biggest shock hailed when Will didn’t react to them at all. He didn’t turn around once that lesson and was the first to leave.
∞∞∞
The week passed in a flurry of preparations for their next marked assignments. Flint handed out reading lists like sweets and Lady Cascade was having them learn to light a small dark-light fire inside a glass jar using only magic.
“Heal a broken leg in a minute? No problem. An hour-and-a-half to light a tiny black fire in a jar? Impossible,” Evan breathed watching Nath’s eyes twinkle.
Even during mysticism Uncle made everyone sit on the floor and meditate because he felt there was too much restless energy among them preventing them from supercharging a twelve-foot chunk of quartz that pierced the center of the room.
∞∞∞
The death of November was upon them; the palace was encrusted in a dense layer of frost which winked and sparkled in the sunlight. Nath worked the previous weekend, so Evan spent the time with Cass up to his elbows in mud uprooting Cacupine fruit: small, squashy, bulbs of spines which grew in deformed lumps around the forest.
“They’re delicious when you get the spines off!” said Cass. Over the past week her voice had taken on a weird chirpy angle. Evan didn’t like it.
“Who would want to try? We look like we’ve been breaking windows,” said Evan, wrinkling his nose and holding up his arms.
Cass laughed, “you because you’re already healed, a bit of glass won’t bother you.”
Evan’s eyes widened. Anxiety swarmed him in a hive of bloodthirsty wasps. “How did you find out?”
“You were never as injured as you should be after those dueling matches. Yeah, I knew I was going out on a limb guessing this because there’s billions of magical people but only one of you.” Instead of the anger he expected for keeping it a secret, her face creased with concern and something closer to hurt. “Why are you so scared of telling people? This isn’t the Dark Ages.”
“I don’t want my powers to be a novelty. Like you said, I’m the literal one in billions,” he said, heaving a sigh of such pain he slumped, welcoming the fatigue. “I don’t want to become a commodity because I’m rare. I want to choose my life, not have it dictated for me by rich people,” Evan said, a lump welled in his throat.
“Nobody can force you to do anything you don’t want to, Evan,” she said, touching his arm and meeting his gaze. “I guess His Highness knows?”
“Of course he does.”
“Then, what are you worried about? He’s not going to let anyone treat you like a freak show,” she said, confusion paling her face. “I can see how much he cares about you. I really think he might be falling for you.”
Evan’s head shot up; his heart leapt from his throat and tap danced on her head. Happiness went off like an atomic bomb in his chest hearing someone else say it. Thinking of Nath was like gentle sunshine parting the rain clouds, like all the feel-goods of every season in one. He’d been sitting on it for weeks now and the urge to confess was overwhelming, punching him like a dream of falling. “I’ve never felt about anyone the way I do about him. He makes me crazy and I don’t even care if I embarrass myself because he’s worth it,” he said.
“I can tell,” she laughed.
“Talk to me about Jeremiah,” said Evan, hoping his confession would loosen her lips. She’d been tired-looking and tense as though bursting with unwanted secrets.
“There’s nothing more to say. No contact,” she shrugged, pressing the needlepoints to her hydra glove’s palm and failing to pierce the impenetrable purple hide. “It’s like the past few years don’t even matter to him. He moved on from me the day we arrived,” her voice remained steady, but her eyes clouded over and she turned away sharply. “Let’s get back inside before it rains again.”
∞∞∞
News broke on Tuesday that a meeting between the Chancellor of Defence, several of the king’s council men, and representatives of the Dead Country would be held by the week’s close.
Anxiety accompanied Evan everywhere as he thought of Nath. More riots had broken out, unrest was becoming rampant, and people living in villages close to the border were reporting disturbances and sightings of monsters daily. Evacuations had begun and to top it all off, the full moon was just days away; approaching faster than a cursed dagger and Evan was beginning to feel the first prickles of terror.
“Are we still on for tonight?” he asked on Thursday morning, the last day of November’s life.
Nath looked at him through eyes shadowed with shame. “If you’re certain, come to my room by no later than six. I would come and get you but I don’t think I’ll be up to it.” Apology tainted his voice. For a split-second his guard dropped and Evan saw how much he was suffering. Lights, sounds, smells, everything was affecting him and he was forced to tolerate it; to remain a mask of regality until the moon waned.
“I’ll be there,” said Evan, smiling.
By the time five-thirty crept up on them, the gardens had plunged into total darkness and students were heading to Court. Evan managed a slice of pizza before he left but he was too fired up with nerves to eat more. Maids and manservants greeted him with polite smiles wearing their secrets behind downcast eyes and well-mannered flourishes. It felt weird to notice these courtly gestures; most people where he was from would be outside in their pajamas every morning having a fag and a cup of tea, not inclining to royalty and donning designer clothes. He reached Nath’s door and knocked only once before it opened.
Nath was grey-faced and sweating, hair tacking to his forehead. “We were expecting you,” he said, cracking a painful smile, “don’t look so worried, first meetings are always the scariest, but you’ll be fine.”
Ohh. The guards didn’t know. Evan’s smile belied his fear and he said, “let’s hope I don’t sip-sooth myself tipsy again.”
The door clicked shut and Beverley was there, palms open blurring the door in a dense turquoise barrier.
“Now we have privacy,” she said, frown scoring her face.
Nath sagged; Evan caught him beneath the arms, his breath was coming in short pants and he was hot to touch. Beverly lead him through a secret passage beneath the observatory stairs and into a cavernous chamber secured by a veil of icy magic. A white ring of light haloed the center arcing into a glistening dome. The ceiling, however, was exposed, moonlight filling the dome with ethereal light.
“Go,” said Elijah, stepping forward so quickly he made Evan jump. His jaw set tense, a muscle twitching in his cheek. He raised his right index finger and the burning ring parted.
Nath shed his cloak so he was in a pair of grey shorts and a t-shirt.
Evan’s stomach lurched. “What are those?” he asked, watching in horror as Elijah began securing the heavy shackles to Nath’s wrists and ankles.
“It looks a lot worse than it is,” said Nath, sinking to the sand.
Evan held his breath watching Elijah check he was secure.
“How long?” Elijah asked calmly.
“Less than five minutes,” said Nath. Elijah nodded and shot Evan a look. “He’ll wait until it starts, he wants to heal me.”
“Okay. Be sure to get through the barrier before he transforms. The chains are enchanted, they can hold him and hurt him, but he’s fast and will bite,” said Elijah looking at Evan as though he didn’t think he would stick around for long after.
“I’ll do what I can,” he swallowed, lips twitching and failing a smile.
“As you see fit,” said Elijah. He turned on his heel and left the ring.
“Where does it hurt?” Evan asked, placing his hands on Nath’s shoulders.
He cringed under the touch, hissing like a wounded snake. “In every fiber of my being,” he said.
Magic flowed from his palms into Nath’s skin; the curse burned its greeting. Th
e prince was sweating; drenched in golden light. His breathing became laboured, heart smacking against his ribcage. The shaking stopped and he gazed up with bleary eyes. “You’re an angel,” he said, face dimpling for the first time at the full moon. Seconds later, he contorted with pain. “It’s starting,” he choked, sucking a ragged breath.
Then the screams began.
Fear nearly tore Evan’s throat out but he clamped his fingers harder into Nath’s shoulders which were cracking loudly beneath him.
“Go!” Nath cried hoarsely.
Evan met his gaze and watched Nath’s twinkle die out. His face began to lengthen and all sense of being drain from it. He booked it and threw himself through the boundary which sealed with a deafening hiss; spitting like cobras. A hand braced Evan’s shoulder, his eyes met the king’s and his stomach seized.
“Are you alright?” Elijah asked, face drawn seriously.
Evan’s insides seized, he managed a nod and turned to look at the prince. Nath’s limbs extended in grotesque hand-like claws coated with rippling platinum fur. His jaw became a wolf’s muzzle, and a tail whipped the back of his thighs. It was the eyes that got him. One blue; one green, entirely human but absent of humanity.
Wow. He breathed in sharply and Elijah looked at him; gaze burning as the werewolf fought his chains, each surge causing them to spark a brilliant forget-me-not blue.
Elijah’s voice crept over his shoulder and he flinched, “I don’t know if Nathaniel’s told you yet, but the Prince’s Neurological Trust has had three werewolves admit themselves for ethical studies. The first trials are to find a safe sedative.”
Sedate implied a lack of choice. Evan hated the word, but he glanced at Nath again and remembered the look of agony he’d bore. He’d prefer being an unconscious wolf than this. “If it’s successful then what does that mean for werewolves as a kind?”
“That depends on the werewolves and whether or not they stop launching attacks on innocent people,” said Elijah. “Nathaniel has his ideas about taming the other wolves and integrating them. He’s always championed equality in every regard, but werewolf equality is a load of nonsense to the public. Do you think anyone wants to play neighbour to a thing like that?” he pointed to Nath, snarling and straining against his shackles.
Evan opened his mouth to say something then realised what a foolish mistake that would be. He couldn’t talk to the king like that, not if he wanted to continue seeing Nath.
“As much as I love my son I need to secure him even if that’s not with the most politically or financially ideal candidate,” he looked Evan up and down. “The night is young, let’s see how you hold up.” Elijah’s smile sank his stomach.
Evan sat there in stunned silence watching Nath, Elijah’s words on a constant mind reel: what did he mean about securing Nath?
An eternity passed before Nath approached the sealed exit, chains tugging max range. His eyes found Evan and he threw himself at the barrier with a blood-curdling snarl. Evan’s emasculating yelp filled the chamber as the werewolf was launched ten feet across the sand. It didn’t faze him; he was on his hind legs, hunched and snarling again, his mismatched, jewel-toned eyes sparking with fury; lips pulled back revealing layers of razor-sharp teeth.
Evan watched him pace, growl, and occasionally attempt the barrier until sky became streaked with everlasting dreams; pastel clouds masked the waning moon, and just like in the fairy tales the curse was broken and the prince became human once more. He barreled through the barrier the moment it opened, radiating energy like he’d never seen. He pulled off his cloak and wrapped it around Nath’s nudity, enveloping him in warmth and support. His t-shirt and boxers lay shredded in the sand.
“You stayed,” said Nath, voice raw.
“I told you I’m not going anywhere,” said Evan, face warming in a smile.
Nath’s eyes were tired and hazy but happiness glinted deep in his pupils and all traces of the werewolf had vanished.
“Any damages?” asked Elijah, sweeping over and kneeling beside his son.
“Nothing a little rest won’t fix,” said Nath.
They helped him to his bed and Elijah took leave looking troubled by more than just the moon.
“Lie back,” Evan instructed, smoothing his hands up Nath’s toned legs. “Tell me your worst pains.” He pressed his fingertips to Nath’s joints watching him flinch and gasp.
“It feels like all of my bones were broken and mended themselves too quickly,” said Nath.
“Is this helping?” Evan asked, massaging deep into the muscle of his thigh. This was stressful, but Nath seemed to enjoy it and it felt good to be useful. The stretch placed on his magic was wonderfully revitalising after a long, sleepless night.
“A lot. You should try to get an hour or two before lessons start,” he said hoarsely.
Evan shook his head. “Don’t be daft. Neither of us are going anywhere until you’re up to it, and don’t look at me like that, you puked and went to bed last month,” he said. “Besides, this gives me good practice with my unique, I can feel the difference trying to mend you compared to healing regular stuff,” his eyes twinkled with enthusiasm.
“Regular stuff?” Nath’s dimples flashed.
“It’s not like healing a wound or a broken bone. I can feel the lycanthropy in your bones, so what I’m doing is trying to numb your pain and relax your joints,” Evan sighed, trailing tingling fingers up Nath’s breastbone.
“It’s helping a lot. I can’t thank you enough,” he sighed, sinking into the pillows.
Evan smiled, pride swelling in his chest like a balloon fit to burst. He worked massaging his magic into Nath’s hips, feeling him drift off in a peaceful sleep and didn’t stop for quite some time after he'd gone. Evan felt hot and tired, he poured himself a drink and gazed in wonder at the view over the gardens. December had arrived in an explosion of festivity. The palace was a blanket of white, trees dripping with crystals, frosted leaves heaped in petrified clusters.
Unbeknownst to Evan, overnight the servants had gone the full nine yards draping the jet walls with fat garlands of icy pine and glittering ribbons. Christmas trees appeared in all communal areas, bright with colour and tiny Santa’s rode miniature sleighs pulled by nine spirited reindeer. Ho ho ho’s, echoed everywhere, and snow whirled in flurries of sparkle and sugar around the palace.
When breakfast arrived several hours later, Evan wanted to throw the newspaper out the window before Nath saw it.
“What’s wrong?” the prince asked quietly from his mountain of fluffy pillows.
Evan stared at it, the flames in the hearth licked hungrily at the stone surround: feed us, throw it in, he shouldn’t see this. Logic prevailed; Nath would find out regardless. He handed it over and watched his moon-pale face turn green.
Hunting Party Loose as Werewolf Pack Attack Villagers:
Residents of Cheshire were wakened at midnight to a bloodbath as a pack of ferocious werewolves attacked. A devastating total of eleven villages close to the Dead Country border found themselves prey to a pack of savages escaped from enemy territory where it is said creatures of the shadow and hell are unable to pass. What does this mean for our country’s national security?
The total number dead and diseased is currently unknown as a team of researchers are holding an investigation into the matter. The current whereabouts of the pack is unknown, but palace patrol teams have suggested it likely that they’re lying low to recover before retreating to their own borders, and anyone found will be executed immediately. This leaves many with the demand that more sanctions be enforced against lycanthropes and other dangerous beasts—
Nath’s hands shook as he scrunched it up and tossed it on the fire.
Chapter 25
Nathaniel
“The meeting went as well as expected,” said Elijah, standing before the roaring fire in his suite. His was back was to his son, but Nath felt the tendrils of tension reach the corners of the room.
“The media will def
ine it as a spectacular failure,” said Nath. Gerard’s eyes turned on him, as did Will’s, Rakes’s, and his mother’s.
“Nathaniel,” said his mother, voice low with warning.
“He’s right, Miriam, the media are hungry for blood and the riots are proving extremely difficult to contain. The Dead Country are rallying their forces, and all we can say is a few of our people have met their representatives,” Elijah said, turning; face shadowed with tempest clouds and scored with strain. “I’m pulling forward the summit; I’m putting an end to this nonsense.”
The queen’s eyes faded like peridots in the sun, she opened her mouth to speak but he continued.
“After the Hogmanay celebrations we’ll meet on neutral territory and bring the Dead Country back under control,” said Elijah, jaw tense with determination, pupils sparking like flint. “And Nathaniel will act be regent until we return,” he finished, looking at his son with an unreadable expression.
“Where’ll the meeting take place?” asked Gerard.
“Gibraltar. We’ll be using the carriages. I don’t want runes, circlets, portals or summoner’s paths anywhere in the vicinity of a warlock,” said Elijah.
“Why not the ship?” asked the Miriam.
“This isn’t the time for a progress,” he replied, stroking his clipped brown beard, eyes glazed in thought. “We’ll take the most direct route and resolve matters by twilight on the third day, then we can return and impose full monarchy control over the Dead Country,” his voice was deep, powerful.
“I’ll attend and maybe add a little persuasion to the mix,” said Gerard stepping forward and straightening the cuffs of his immaculate suit.
Before Elijah could speak Miriam placed a hand on Gerard’s arm. “I was hoping you’d stay and aid my son while he’s without a consort,” her eyes flashed and tension bound Nathaniel in tight cords.