Heavens Aground (Treble and the Lost Boys Book 2)

by G. R. Lyons

  He approached Asher's bed and stood there for a long while, just watching Asher sleep. Finally, choking back another sob, Ryley looked around for some paper, scribbled out a note, folded it up, and tucked it into Asher's fist. Ryley bent down and kissed Asher on the forehead.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  Then he turned and left the room, forcing himself out of the hospital without a single backward glance. He flagged down a taxi, got a ride to his house, then asked the driver to wait. Ryley ran inside just long enough to pack a bag and leave his phone behind, knowing it would be useless where he was going, then locked up the house and left again, diving back into the taxi and instructing the driver to drop him off at a plaza downtown.

  In the early hours of morning, he paid the driver, waited for the guy to drive away, then took a deep breath, went straight up to a starglass Gate, and walked away from his life.

  * * *

  ASHER GROANED as he woke, trying to figure out why everything seemed to hurt. He blinked slowly, wishing he could rub his eyes, but he seemed to lack the strength to lift his arm. Or maybe it was the pain. He couldn't quite tell.

  It seemed to take ages, but the hazy whiteness all around him finally resolved itself into semi-recognizable shapes. The walls were white, but there was definitely a window in there somewhere. Another white wall finally broke, showing the outline of a door. The white blob in front of him slowly sharpened until he realized it was a blanket covering his body.

  His body…that hurt all over.

  Asher groaned again. What the hells had happened? He remembered being in bed with Ryley, followed by excruciating pain.

  And then nothing.

  “Hey, shhh, easy,” a voice murmured.

  Asher blinked and slowly turned his head toward the sound. A figure swam in his vision, but it was too big to be Ryley, and the voice was all wrong. Asher blinked again.

  “Vic?”

  “Yeah.”

  Asher frowned. What was Vic doing there? And where was Ryley?

  “Shhh, Asher, don't move,” Vic said, his voice low and soothing. “You need to lie still.”

  Asher shook his head and tried to move his arms, wanting to at least push himself up into a sitting position, but his body wasn't working. He gasped in panic and tightened his fists.

  “Asher, look at me,” Vic ordered gently. “It's gonna be alright, I promise. You're alive, and you're gonna be fine.”

  Asher forced himself to calm down. Vic had a point, after all. He was alive. As long as he was alive, things could be dealt with, whatever they were. He just had to find out what the problem was, and face it. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to get his thoughts in order. Yes, he was in pain, but pain would eventually end. Yes, he was anxious and confused about what happened, but that just required being patient long enough to get some answers. He took another deep breath and gave Vic a nod, glad to see that his vision had cleared up enough that the man was finally recognizable, except he looked as though he'd barely slept.

  “That's it,” Vic said. “You're doing great.” He felt Vic give his arm a squeeze, and looked down to see it. He could feel. That was a good start. Granted, most of what he was feeling was pain, but at least that meant he was still alive and still had a body to feel. Then again, Vic's touch was gentle, helping Asher slowly realize there was no pain in that arm, at least. He thought for a moment. There wasn't any pain in the other arm, either. There was pain in his head, but that could just be a headache. The more he focused on it, the more he was sure that's all it was.

  As for the rest of his body?

  It was all too much to analyze on his own.

  “Do you need anything?” Vic asked, cutting through his thoughts. “Water? Any–”

  “Answers,” he interrupted, and Vic gave him a nod. “What happened?”

  “What do you remember?”

  Asher frowned. “I was in bed, with Ryley.” He realized too late what he'd said, and to whom. Asher grimaced and shot Vic an apologetic look. “I'm sorry–”

  Vic waved a hand. “What else?”

  Asher frowned again. “Then…pain.” He slowly shook his head, trying to remember any more details. “Just pain. It started in my hip, and then…it was like everything hurt at once.”

  Vic nodded. “You remember the accident you had when you were a kid?”

  Asher snorted a laugh, and immediately regretted it. He cringed in pain, then nodded instead. How could he forget? That accident had been the end of his childhood. First, the hospital stay, then confined to a bed, then endless hours of physical therapy, followed by being taken away to Erostil and pushed off a boat before he ever got a chance to go back to school, back to his friends, back to his life.

  “They installed pins and plates to stabilize your bones,” Vic went on, “to help them heal.” Asher nodded. He remembered hearing about that back then. The thought of having things screwed into his bones had always freaked him out a little. “All those pins came out.”

  Asher blinked. “Came out?”

  Vic nodded. “All of them. Every single one was forced out of place, creating new bone fractures and tearing up your internal tissues.”

  Asher's eyes went wide. Holy shit. No wonder his whole body hurt. He swallowed hard. “Am I–”

  “You're gonna be fine,” Vic rushed to add. “You've got a long recovery ahead of you, but you're gonna be fine.”

  Asher blew out a breath. Thank gods. He tried to picture it: metal pieces tearing free of his bones and carving paths through his body, cutting through and scraping against muscles and tendons and organs. How the hells had he survived that?

  More importantly…

  “How did it happen?” he asked Vic.

  Vic grimaced. “An outside force.”

  Asher froze, staring at Vic. He knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway. “What outside force?”

  Vic took a deep breath, then huffed it out in a sigh. “Ryley.”

  Asher kept staring, at a loss for words.

  “Ryley's a mage,” Vic told him. “An untrained one. I did some research. Turns out that even magi with excellent self-control can lose hold of their power during any heightened emotional state, particularly anger or fear.” He paused, then added, “Or arousal. A burst of magic during sexual release is apparently pretty common for them. It's why the lights always flashed whenever Ryley had sex or woke up from a nightmare. It's–”

  “It's why I kept getting pain every time I was with him,” Asher realized aloud.

  Vic nodded.

  Asher thought back. From the very first day they'd met, any time Ryley had a nightmare or an orgasm, Asher had felt at least a twinge of pain, and it consistently got worse every time after that. Ryley had been unknowingly putting force on those pins with his magic for months.

  And then nearly killed him.

  Asher frowned. Poor Ryley. The guy must be wracked with guilt right now. Asher looked around, trying to find any sign that Ryley had been there to see him. He hoped Ryley wasn't hiding away, too ashamed to face him. All Asher wanted right then was to hold the man and tell him he didn't blame him.

  “Where is Ryley?” he finally asked.

  Vic grimaced again. “I have no idea. I left him here a few hours ago, but when I got back to check on you, he was gone.”

  Asher's frown deepened. Ryley wouldn't just leave him there, would he? Asher moved his arms again, really needing to sit up this time, but his body just wouldn't budge.

  “Easy there,” Vic said, grabbing his shoulders and pressing him back down on the bed. “We don't want you needing another surgery so soon. Besides…” Vic lifted the blanket, and Asher looked down to see that he was practically bolted to the bed from waist to knees. Some sort of framework had him strapped in place, preventing movement. Asher slumped back on the bed with a sigh, and Vic carefully lowered the blanket again, helping Asher arrange his arms on top of it.

  That was when Asher felt something rub against his palm. Asher l
ifted his arm and slowly unclenched his fist to find a folded piece of paper tucked away there. He tried lifting his other hand so he could unfold it, but his hands shook too much.

  “Vic–” he pleaded.

  Vic took the note and scanned whatever was on it, his eyes going wide. He looked at Asher, then back down at the paper. “'Asher,'” he read, “'I will never forgive myself for hurting you. I've gone to fix this, whatever that means. I hope you find happiness someday, in case I don't ever come back. I–'” Vic blinked and shook his head.

  “What?” Asher demanded.

  “You shouldn't be hearing that part from me,” Vic said, then turned the note around for Asher to read.

  Asher blinked hard, scanning the lines, his vision still a bit hazy, but when he came to the end of the note and made out the words there, he stopped breathing.

  I love you. –Ryley

  “Vic,” Asher gasped.

  “Shhh, Asher.” Vic tucked the note back into Asher's hand, then grabbed his wrist. “I'll find him, alright? Just breathe. Try to relax. I'll be back as soon as I can.”

  Asher nodded and watched Vic hurry out of the room, pulling his mobile from his pocket as he went. Once Vic was out of sight, Asher closed his eyes, trying to stay calm.

  'I hope you find happiness someday, in case I don't ever come back.'

  Asher cringed. Ryley didn't really mean that, did he? Those words sounded like goodbye, like Ryley was leaving him for good. But they'd been so great together. Ryley had said so himself, said how happy he was, being with Asher.

  Yet Ryley had left. Turned his back and walked out when Asher needed him most, just like his father had done.

  All the progress Asher had made went flying out the window. He was that twelve-year-old boy all over again, abandoned and afraid.

  Vic returned an hour later, and by the look on his face, it wasn't good news.

  Asher couldn't even speak. He looked at Vic, clutching the sheets in both hands, waiting to hear the worst.

  “He wasn't answering his phone,” Vic began. “I stopped by the office, which was empty, then tried his house. His car was there, the house was locked up, and inside I found his phone and his wallet, but all the cash had been taken–”

  Asher's eyes went wide and he tried to sit up, only succeeding in lifting his head. “Is he hurt?” Asher blurted out. “Did someone–”

  Vic held up a hand and shook his head. “His overnight bag was missing, as were some of his clothes and toiletries. I questioned the neighbors, tracked down a cab he hired to take him downtown.” Vic paused, then sighed and shook his head. “Asher, I'm afraid Ryley really has gone.”

  “Gone? Gone where?”

  Chapter 18

  JADU'N.

  Ryley came to a stop on the other side of the starglass Gate, blinking stupidly at the sight that greeted him. Even in his frantic state, his first glimpse of the magical Isle stopped him in his tracks. The starglass portal—a combination of Jaduan magic and Agorani technology—had transported him instantly from a cobblestone plaza in the middle of Morbran City to a garden on a completely different Isle, thousands of miles away.

  The shocking change was enough to take his breath away. Instead of being just before dawn, it was now early afternoon. He no longer had paved streets beneath his feet, but paths made of well-packed dirt or decorative flagstones. Homes and businesses had given way to trees and garden walls, with flowers and trailing vines crawling over everything in sight. The gentle whisper of midnight car traffic had been replaced by the gurgle of a stream somewhere nearby.

  Ryley stared, trying to take it all in.

  He started slowly walking, having no idea where on Jadu'n he was or where he might be headed. All he knew was that he had to find someone and get some answers. Get some help.

  One garden gave way to another, then another. The more Ryley looked, the more he got the impression the entire Isle was just one big living thing. There wasn't a hint of civilization anywhere, other than the exquisite craftsmanship of the stone walls, paths, and garden benches. What he didn't see were buildings. Anywhere. Not a single one.

  So where the hells did these people live?

  “Hello?” he called.

  There was no answer, so he kept walking. He followed one path, then another, hoping he wasn't getting himself horribly lost. Vic was the tracker, after all. Not him. Ryley turned around, looking back the way he came, but there was no sign of the Gate. Was it just behind that garden wall there, or another? How far had he walked already? He wasn't ready to go back yet, but could he even find his way if he tried?

  He took a deep, bracing breath. It didn't matter. He was here for a reason, so he needed to stay focused. Ryley kept walking, then darted ahead when he spotted some shade. Being dressed for a cool night on Agoran, the warm humidity of Jadu'n was making him sweat all over, and he wasn't even running.

  Ryley stood in the shade for a few minutes, trying to get his bearings. He looked around and spotted four different paths leading out of the garden he was in, but he couldn't decide which one to take. Then again, one was just as good as another, he supposed. He gave the garden one more look while he tried to decide, something about it troubling him.

  The shade. There were no trees or walls immediately near him, so how could there be shade?

  Ryley looked up, then kept scanning higher and higher until his eyes fixed on something that was just downright…impossible.

  Land. Floating. Easily a thousand feet above his head, there was a piece of land just floating there, hovering over the Isle and positioned between him and the suns, casting shade down on the spot where he stood. How the hells could land be floating?

  “Magical, is it not?”

  Ryley yelped and whirled around. A man stood several feet away, dressed in iridescent white robes, his hands clasped in front of him and a friendly smile on his face.

  “I never tire of that view,” the man said, casting a glance up at the floating land before looking at Ryley again. “Hail and well met, brother.”

  Ryley frowned. “You're the second person who's said that to me.”

  The strange man tilted his head to one side. “It is how we greet one another.”

  Ryley shrugged. “I wouldn't know.”

  The man's eyebrows went up. “You–” He took a step back and gave Ryley a thorough once-over. “No, it cannot be possible,” the man whispered.

  “What's not possible?”

  The man took a few steps closer. “Have you truly never been to Jadu'n?”

  Ryley shook his head.

  “Father's love,” the man whispered. He shook his head. “Forgive me. I– I have never encountered an adult novice before.” He cleared his throat and offered his hand. “Master Ross. I am a certified Rajali mage.”

  Ryley shook his hand. “Ryley Skye.”

  “From Agoran, by the look of you,” Master Ross said, folding his arms so that his hands disappeared inside the sleeves of his robes.

  “Yeah.”

  “I hail from Andria, myself.”

  “Yeah, the accent,” Ryley blurted out, then felt himself blush. He'd only heard the Andrian accent done in films. Hearing it in person was an entirely different experience, especially coming from a guy as classically handsome as Master Ross.

  Ryley inwardly cursed himself and shook his head. Even if he didn't love Asher, men were the last things he needed to be thinking about just then.

  “And what brings you to our fair valley, Mr. Skye?” Master Ross asked.

  “I–” Ryley blinked. “Valley?”

  “Of course.” Master Ross pointed, describing an arc with his hand, and when Ryley followed with his eyes, he saw hillsides off in the distance in every direction he looked. “See there?” the mage said, drawing Ryley's attention to one spot in particular. “That waterfall?”

  Ryley spotted it, watching the water spill lazily down the hillside from the highest point he could see.

  “That comes from the ocean,” Master Ross e
xplained.

  Ryley gaped at him, then looked around again. He'd read once, way back in some geography class, that the Isle of Jadu'n was almost entirely below sea level—it was often referred to as the Hole in the Ocean, after all—but he'd never really believed it.

  “No way,” he whispered.

  Master Ross chuckled. “Perhaps, if there is time, I shall take you up to the Grand Temple so you can enjoy the view.” The mage pointed, and Ryley realized he was indicating the floating land above their heads. “You can see the whole of the Isle from up there.”

  Ryley blinked. “How the hells do you even get up there?”

  “A transportation spell,” the mage answered. “Or on wingback.”

  “Wingback?”

  “The beykana,” Master Ross said. When Ryley gave him a puzzled look, the man frowned. “The winged horses of Falsin? You have never seen them?”

  Ryley shook his head.

  “Father's love,” the man said, chuckling. “Perhaps we shall visit the stable gardens, as well. The Falsiners breed the beasts for us to be our mounts. They are quite striking.” Master Ross paused, tilting his head to one side. “Yet that is not why you are here. Forgive me. I fear I do tend to run on.”

  Ryley blinked. He wasn't exactly complaining. He could listen to that voice all day. But he did have important shit to do.

  “Right,” he said. “I need help.”

  Master Ross gave him an encouraging nod.

  “I hurt someone,” he admitted, “with this– with my power. I never really knew I was a mage– No, I guess I did, but I just didn't want to– And Vic kept trying to tell me I was, but I didn't want to believe him– Fuck, and now I've hurt someone I care about. I need to get this…” He curled a hand into a loose fist and gestured at himself, trying to figure out where exactly in his body he felt the magic, then gave up with a sigh and lowered his hand. “I just need it under control.”

  Master Ross had a carefully neutral look on his face. “How badly was this person harmed?”

  Ryley looked down and swallowed hard. “He nearly died,” he admitted in a whisper.