Heavens Aground (Treble and the Lost Boys Book 2)

by G. R. Lyons

  “Yes, there is,” Ryley insisted. “I've put this off way too long. I have to get this under control.”

  Master Ross sighed and let his hand fall away. “As you wish.” He paused, then asked, “If I may…Why did you delay your training for so long? Or…” He frowned, looking disturbed by whatever thought crossed his mind. “Did the Vakti never come for you?”

  Ryley blinked. “The what?”

  “The Vakti.” Master Ross waited, but Ryley still had no idea what the man was talking about. “Our ruling council? The Ladies of the Vakti sense the appearance of new magic in the world, and they go find the child to tell him and his family of his gift, extending an invitation to study here on Jadu'n.” Master Ross paused. “Did they never come for you?”

  Ryley slowly shook his head. He opened his mouth, meaning to say no, but then an image flashed through his mind, something about a strange woman, dressed all in black. Before he could process it, his mind switched to his nightmare again, blood all around him, coating his skin, drowning him. Ryley gasped and rubbed his eyes.

  Gods, where was Vic when Ryley needed him? No one, not even Asher, had ever managed to calm Ryley after his nightmares so well as Vic had.

  “What is…'vic'?” Master Ross asked.

  Ryley blinked and took a step back. “Did I say that out loud?”

  Master Ross nodded. “Just the word. What is it?”

  “Not what. Who.” Ryley ran his hands through his hair, brushing out the last of the soil and retying it in an elastic band, just to give his hands something to do. “Vic's my…friend. We work together.”

  “Ah.” Master Ross studied him. “He is…more than just a friend, perhaps?” the mage asked carefully.

  “What? No. I– Yeah, he used to be, but…not anymore.”

  “Ah,” Master Ross said again, then tilted his head to one side, still studying Ryley's face. “So…no one special in your life, at present?”

  Ash.

  Ryley shook his head. He loved Ash, but he couldn't risk hurting the man ever again. Maybe this was all for the best, awful as it was. Asher would be stuck in the hospital, and Ryley would be stuck on Jadu'n, giving them plenty of time apart, plenty of time for Asher to start getting used to Ryley not being around. Asher could eventually move on, find happiness with someone else, and be free of danger from Ryley and these cursed powers.

  He had to let Asher go.

  “No,” he finally answered, feeling as though his heart were being torn to pieces. “No one special.”

  * * *

  ASHER LAY still through what he hoped would be his final scan. He'd been stuck in that hospital bed for over two months, unable to move without supervision in case the bonding agent on his bones didn't hold and a fracture reappeared.

  He was bored, frustrated, sore, and restless, but at least it was almost over. With those pins gone, there would be nothing foreign in his body that could be ripped out by accident again.

  Of course, the whole experience hadn't been entirely bad. He had gotten a lot of reading done. It had taken him several days to get back into the mindset necessary for learning, since he hadn't even thought of school in almost fourteen years, but once he got into the groove, he realized how much he'd missed it.

  His father had never understood how much Asher loved school. Silas Arden cared far more about running his businesses and watching various markets than 'wasting his time' exploring the sciences or discovering the history of the world. Asher still hadn't figured out what he wanted to do with his life, but the more he learned, the more he was inspired. He'd find something eventually. In the meantime, he had plenty of time to consider his options and decide which direction he wanted to take.

  Once he was brave enough to face a crowded campus, of course.

  Thank gods for Uncle Greg. The man had been right there at his side, every step of the way, visiting him regularly, quizzing him on the things he was learning, making arrangements for Asher to take assessment tests, right there in his hospital bed. Now Asher had a better idea of where his skills ranked, so he could focus on the next steps in his education, knowing what areas he excelled at and what areas he needed more work on.

  Vic had also been a huge help. The agent had visited him every single day even though he absolutely didn't have to. Odd as it was, Vic was pretty much Asher's only friend. Then again, Vic had gotten Zac and Adrian to come see him a few times, and even though Asher still didn't know them too well, he definitely saw the potential of friendship with that strange couple. Perhaps once Asher wasn't at the disadvantage of being stuck in a bed.

  Even now, Vic was there at his side, waiting with him for the results of his scan.

  A bar of blue light tracked down Asher's form from head to toe, then winked out as something beeped, after which a three-dimensional hologram of Asher's body appeared in the air right over the real thing. Dr. Edrich examined the hologram, using his hands to manipulate the rendering, turning the thing around and stripping away various layers to check on all aspects of Asher's condition. Asher was used to the process by now, but the first time he'd seen the artificial representation of his bones, muscles, veins, and organs, he'd just about lost his lunch. Not that the hologram was all that realistic, except in basic shape—blue and red lines representing the healthy and unhealthy parts of Asher's body, respectively—but being made so startlingly aware of what lay beneath his skin did not rank up there with his favorite things in the world.

  “There is definitely some scar tissue,” the doctor said, examining the hologram, “but the fractures have all healed and the bonding agent has flushed out of your system.” Dr. Edrich touched something on his tablet, and the hologram vanished. “I'd say you're ready to get out of bed and start physical therapy.”

  Vic clapped him on the shoulder as Asher breathed a sigh of relief. Thank gods. He couldn't wait to be in any position other than horizontal. Hells, even sitting up would be a blessing, even if it still meant a sore backside. Standing, though, sounded like utter bliss.

  And the sooner he got back on his feet, the sooner he could go visit Ryley.

  Vic kept him sane, all through the first few weeks of physical therapy. It was one thing to come out of the hospital with atrophied muscles as a kid. Experiencing that as a man—especially after he'd spent half his life having to be entirely self-sufficient, relying on his strength and determination in order to survive—was a crushing blow. His body had gone soft from all the bed rest, his leg muscles half the size they'd once been due to complete lack of use. Somehow, though, Vic eased him through it, providing therapy for Asher's mind while the nurses provided therapy for his body.

  “Why are you doing all this?” Asher asked Vic one day as the pair of them left the therapist's office.

  Vic frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

  They got into Vic's car to head back to Uncle Greg's house. “I mean, you'd think I'd be nothing to you, having invaded your life like I did, but you've been there the whole time–”

  Vic held up a hand. “First of all, you're far from nothing. You're a human being…” He paused, then asked, “Oh, you mean because of me and Ryley?”

  Asher nodded.

  “Asher, look.” Vic sighed. “You were a case, a client. A lost boy that needed—deserved—to be rescued. I wasn't about to find you and then immediately abandon you, even if you and Ryley got attached while I was still hoping there was even the slimmest chance he and I might get back together. But now…Asher, you're a good man. You deserve compassion. And, truth be told, Ryley and I were done a long time ago. I just think neither of us was ready to admit it. A part of me will always love him, but he's happy now. I mean–” He broke off and shook his head. “He's happy with you. I've never seen him quite so alive as he's been since he met you. Ryley deserves that. He deserves some happiness, and he wasn't getting it with me. And I wasn't getting it with him. It was well past time we both moved on, and Ryley has. He loves you, and you're good for him. So, while he's gone, I'm going to make sure
you have everything you need, both for his sake and for yours. You both deserve it.”

  Asher studied Vic's profile while the man drove. “You're still trying to save him, aren't you? Through me.”

  Vic glanced at him before returning his attention to the road, frowning in thought. “Huh. Yeah, maybe.”

  “Because of Cam?”

  Vic swallowed hard and nodded.

  “Is that all you ever do?” Asher asked. “Try to save people? Because of him?”

  Vic breathed a humorless laugh. “Pretty much.”

  Asher looked out the window, thinking. “Do you think Ryley can be saved? From whatever it is you're not telling me, I mean.”

  Vic nodded slowly. “I think so. Eventually.” He paused and sighed. “I sure hope so.”

  “What can I do?”

  Vic gave him a quick glance. “Just get better. That's all he needs from you right now.”

  “And then?”

  “Then what?”

  Asher looked at Vic. “I want to go see him,” he said.

  Vic pulled into the driveway at Uncle Greg's house and let the car power down to idle before he turned to face Asher, studying his eyes. He gave a nod. “You just say when, and we'll go.”

  Chapter 21

  RYLEY GROWLED and brought his fists down on the table, making the old books bounce on the surface and raising a cloud of dust.

  Someone in the library shushed him, and Ryley waved an apology at the guy before planting his elbows on the table and hiding his face in his hands. This was ridiculous. He couldn't focus. No matter what he did, he just couldn't find the necessary concentration to learn a damned thing.

  Almost three months he'd been on Jadu'n, and the only magic he'd accomplished was opening a door. He was thankful to have at least that, since there wasn't a single door anywhere on Jadu'n equipped with a handle, but that was still the only spell he could cast. Nothing else came to him. He was still so completely out of control as to be dangerous, and he couldn't even think about going back home until he had the magic locked down.

  The endless hours of trials and reading weren't helping matters. The dusty, old textbooks provided no insights into why he couldn't seem to harness his skills, and he spent endless hours, every day, practicing what were apparently simple spells over and over until he simply collapsed in exhaustion each night, falling asleep the moment he lay down, no longer able to move.

  Then got up the next day and did it all over again.

  A hand touched his hair, and Ryley jumped out of his seat.

  “Forgive me,” Master Ross said. “I did not mean to startle you.”

  Ryley closed his eyes and sighed. He hadn't even heard the man approach.

  “How is it coming?” the mage asked.

  Ryley groaned and rolled his eyes. Coming. That in itself was probably half the problem. He could count on one hand how many orgasms he'd had since coming to Jadu'n, and all of them had been without any effort on his part. Ryley refused to touch himself, so the need built and built until he finally exploded, the force of the orgasm tearing him out of sleep.

  He knew that denying himself was only adding to his tension and disrupting his focus, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it. Bad things happened when he lost control of his magic, and he always seemed to lose control of that when he lost control of his body, either through orgasm or heightened emotions. The less that happened, the better. He had to learn control, but he didn't seem to be making any progress. “It's not.”

  “Hmmm.” Master Ross clasped his hands, giving Ryley a quick once-over. “Come. Walk with me.”

  Ryley rolled his eyes again, but did as the man asked. It wasn't like he was making any progress with the old texts. Perhaps fresh air and more practice—outside, where he couldn't really hurt anything—would do him good.

  They strolled in silence for several minutes, but the tranquility of the gardens didn't do a thing to lighten Ryley's mood. Fuck. He needed to get laid, and he was missing Asher bad. He couldn't have either of those things, though. Not any time soon.

  “Ryley,” Master Ross murmured, stopping him with a hand on his lower back. Ryley shivered at the touch. His whole body was crawling with need, and the heat of that hand, even through his clothes, definitely wasn't helping. “What is troubling you?”

  Ryley pulled away, fighting temptation. “Maybe I'm not cut out for this. Maybe I should just do that Circle thing and be done with it.”

  Master Ross gasped. “You do not mean that.”

  “Maybe I do.”

  The mage sighed. “Ryley, go home. Rest. You have been working yourself far too hard.”

  “I can't rest,” Ryley insisted, shaking his head. “I have to get this down.”

  “And you will not accomplish that in your current state,” Master Ross said, running a hand down Ryley's arm. Ryley shivered. “No more lessons for today. Go home and rest. I insist upon it.”

  Ryley opened his mouth to argue, then sighed instead. He could always go home and try to practice a few simple spells on his own while Master Ross wasn't looking. Not to mention, it would pull him away from temptation. If the man touched him one more time, he was going to snap.

  Ryley made his way back to his cottage, familiar with the paths now that he'd traversed them so many times. He was slowly but surely learning the village, whether he wanted to or not. Then again, this place was his home now, and it would be for some time. Maybe years. How he'd manage once he got back to Agoran—if he ever got back to Agoran—he couldn't even contemplate. He'd certainly lost his job by now. Gods only knew what would become of his house, if something hadn't already happened to it. All he had left of his life was the bag of clothes he'd packed to bring along with him. Everything else—every possession, every memory—was thousands of miles away, and he might never see any of it ever again.

  Ryley approached his front door, gazing at a stone slab set into the grass near a tree that grew just outside his cottage.

  Apparently, the mage who had occupied Eventide before—an Andrian named Master Raksdel—had lost his first love at the hands of his own father. Baron Raksdel had discovered the relationship between his son and some farm boy, and had the boy beaten to death, with the young Master Raksdel arriving too late to save him. The mage had brought his lover's body to Jadu'n and buried him there, right in his garden, so they could be close.

  Veering away from the door at the last moment, Ryley went over to the grave marker and sat down beside it, leaning back against the tree. That wasn't the end of Master Raksdel's story. The weirdest part was that the mage had been separated from Ryley by a matter of degrees long before Ryley had come to Jadu'n and occupied the man's house.

  After losing his lover, Master Raksdel had gone to Ceynes to work as personal mage to Lord Cyvas, cousin to the Ceynesian ruler, Emperor Phaerel. The emperor stole his cousin's intended bride, and Lord Cyvas got revenge, poisoning the empress and her unborn child with Master Raksdel's help. Except Master Raksdel hadn't known what Lord Cyvas was using the poison for. He'd supplied it without asking. For his negligence, Master Raksdel had been condemned to lose his powers and be banished from Jadu'n for life, which was why his cottage had sat empty for so many years.

  Right before his sentencing could commence, though, another mage had stepped in and begged for mercy on Master Raksdel's behalf. From what Master Ross had said, this other mage—Master Shyford—had become romantically involved with Master Raksdel, and stood up for Master Raksdel when he discovered the mage wasn't directly responsible for the empress's poisoning. Master Raksdel had been allowed to keep his powers, but he'd still been banished from Jadu'n, so he'd gone to Master Shyford's home on Agoran to live out the rest of his life.

  Not just anywhere on Agoran. Morbran City. And they had raised the Ceynesian princess. Though the empress had died in childbirth, the infant girl had survived the poisoning, but because it had been administered to the empress while the girl was still in the womb, the princess had been born addi
cted to the poison. When Emperor Phaerel learned that, he disowned his daughter and cast her aside, and the two magi—Raksdel and Shyford—took her with them to Agoran to raise her as their own.

  That princess had grown up to meet and marry a Falsiner, Kadyr Vas-kelen, who was uncle to twins, one of whom was Athan, Ryley's old hookup.

  Ryley shook his head, chuckling under his breath. So many lives coming from thousands of miles apart, and somehow they'd all connected in some way. Small, small world.

  Hells, Ryley never imagined his life taking him away from the Isle of his birth. Even the trip to Erostil had been a surprise. Now, though, he was living on Jadu'n, and possibly for good. Ryley trailed his fingers over the grave marker at his side. Master Raksdel probably never imagined he'd wind up far from home, either. And long before that ever happened, he probably would never have guessed that he'd lose his lover in such a vicious way.

  How lonely he must have been.

  Ryley let his head fall back with a sigh. Gods, he missed Asher. Every time he woke, Ryley was aware of how empty the bed felt without the man there at his side. Was it some sort of sign, some trick of fate by the gods, that Ryley had just happened to walk through a Gate that put him on Jadu'n in this particular village, where the only available residence was this particular cottage with its tragic, romantic history? Maybe he really never was going to see Asher again.

  And maybe that was his punishment for being so strongly in denial for so many years, such that his pigheadedness resulted in nearly killing the man he loved.

  Ryley closed his eyes, thinking he'd just rest there for a moment, his fingers lingering on the warm stone beside him. The next thing he knew, he woke with a groan, his back aching from sitting so long against that tree. Not that he could complain. Asher had suffered far more pain than that. Ryley sighed and got to his feet, wondering how Asher was doing. Was he out of the hospital? Was he walking again? Was he hating Ryley for leaving him?

  Had he already moved on?

  Ryley's gut clenched at the thought. It seemed far too soon, but he could hardly blame the man if he had. Hells, Ryley had moved on with Asher mere weeks after he and Vic had broken up. And Ryley had abandoned Asher after hurting him, just like Asher's father had. If Asher had already moved on, it was the least Ryley deserved.