by Megan Derr
Sighing, he finally hauled the bucket up out of the well and lugged it into the cabin. He set it on the table, then went to his pack to find the tin of tea. Gaston sat by the fire sorting through his own pack, setting aside food for dinner and neatly repacking the rest. "So this is where you grew up?"
"Yes," Esen said, looking around the little cabin, wondering how it appeared to an outsider.
It was one large room, with a large fire for heating and cooking, a table for working and eating, Old Lida's large bed and the small straw mattress and blankets that were his own bed. He had always set it up before the fire, and hummed songs that the birds had taught him, dreaming of his family showing up to take him home.
The dreams had been very grand, with his parents sweeping him up, embracing him, kissing him, telling him how much they had missed him. His siblings excited to see him, eager to show him around. They would throw him a welcome home ball like in the stories Old Lida occasionally told him and give him a hundred presents.
Every time someone visited the cabin, Esen had hoped. Over and over again he had waited for his family to take him back. But time and again it had only been Master Timo with their supplies. Eventually, Esen had given up thinking his family wanted him.
By the time they had recalled him, he had stopped wanting them too. But he had tried—and tried, and tried, and had thought he was succeeding until he just could not go through with the engagement into which they had thrust him.
"You look troubled," Gaston said, breaking into his thoughts.
Esen shook himself. "Memories, that's all. I remember the day I was summoned home, how confusing it all was after being here alone for so long. I didn't know anything. I was sixteen and felt six still. They set tutors upon me day and night, and by the time I was twenty they deemed me 'tolerably respectable.' They started taking me to teas and garden parties and balls, and I hated all of it. One day they dressed me up and took me to a house I'd never seen and introduced me to a man I had encountered thrice before but never really got on with—and he very clearly did not care overmuch for me—and told me we were getting married. I tried to do it, I really did. In the end, I just couldn't, and now I'm right back to being a boy in a cabin."
Esen swallowed back the lump in his throat and set to work making tea, scooping water from the bucket into the kettle, then placing it on its hook and swinging it into the fire. From the old cupboard in the corner he fetched cups and bowls—
—and nearly crashed into Gaston. "Steady," Gaston said, catching him about the hips and only slowly letting him go again. He took the bowls and carried them to the table, setting the water near the fire so he could begin to work on dinner. "You deduced I am Marga's bastard son, and know my fathers are Llew and Gillis. But growing up, I did not know that. Did not truly understand how strange I am for being a Chimera."
"I still cannot believe you are a Chimera."
"Try reading about the impossibility of yourself in book after book," Gaston said wryly. "Contrary to them all, I do exist. I can turn into each of my Natures and a…rather alarming combination of all three. Only when I was older, about thirteen, did I begin to appreciate just how strange that made me. I was seventeen before I realized what it could mean if word got out that my mother was the queen and I had two fathers. You are merely puzzled that she would sleep with two men at once. Most people would be offended and claim such behavior made my mother unfit for the throne."
Esen frowned at that. "Why? What does sex have to do with the throne?"
Gaston smiled at him. "Nothing, but that never stops the gossiping of mean-spirited people who whisper theories why a quiet little Sylph with barely a pence to his name would refuse to marry the fourth son of the Undine Chief."
"I just didn't want to spend the rest of my life more miserable than I had already been," Esen said quietly, staring at the table. "Nobody would listen."
Gentle fingers cupped Esen's cheek, turned his head, and Gaston's smile suddenly made all the sour memories so much easier to bear. "Don't worry about people who don't listen. If they won't listen, they don't deserve to be heard. You made the right decision. Let no one convince you otherwise."
Gaston lingered a beat longer, then slowly moved away, pulling out the knife at his waist to chop up the wild vegetables they'd collected while walking. Esen went to check on the water and finding it sufficiently hot, quickly made them a pot of tea. He set the cup where Gaston could reach it, then sat at the table and watched him work, admiring the fluid, easy way he wielded his knife. "You're really good at that."
"Lots of practice," Gaston said. "I was never much for court. Sort of like you, I grew up isolated. Not as severely as you: I had tutors and servants, but no one my own age. I was a solemn child, and I suppose still have not left that behind. I also hate to be in one place for too long, after never leaving the same dreary manor for the first eighteen years of my life."
Esen nodded. "That's why that Griffin was mad at you—he wanted you to hold still."
"Yes," Gaston said with a chuckle. "Justin was hoping for marriage, but I knew before that night we would never last—would, as you say, be miserable together in the end. He ended it before I could, but only just barely." He shrugged. "The fact I am not upset about it only affirms it was the right decision."
"Did he know what you were?"
"He knew I was a Chimera, but not the details you know," Gaston said, and winked.
Esen smiled, please that he was trusted more than the unfortunate Justin. "Do your brother and sister know about you?"
"Yes, though they only learned the truth a few years ago. I'm not sure they've ever recovered from the shock."
"I still don't understand how three people—" Esen stopped as Gaston fumbled his knife, sliced his finger. "Are you okay?" he asked, scrambling to his feet and going to fetch a rag from the dish cabinet, rushing back to wrap around the wound.
Gaston's mouth quirked. "I'm fine. The Manticores did far worse than this. It was my own carelessness."
"I was distracting you by rambling on and asking stupid questions," Esen said. "I should—"
A finger pressed to his mouth stopped him short, and he looked up quizzically at Gaston. "I've yet to hear a stupid question fall from your lips, little Sylph. As to sex among three—I suggest you start more traditionally, but trust me when I say there are plenty of people in the world who would be willing to teach you whatever you want to know."
Esen stared at him, remembering the kiss from earlier in the day. "What about you?"
Gaston sucked in a startled breath, then let it out on a laugh. "Esen, I have been trying very hard not to instruct you so."
"Why are you trying not to, unless it's that you don't want to?"
Making a rough noise that sounded like a strangled laugh and a curse mashed together, Gaston cupped his good hand around the back of Esen's neck and drew him into a kiss that was anything but chaste. Esen did not know anything about kisses, but he was fairly certain that Gaston's kiss was perfect. Completely forgetting about the rag he was holding to Gaston's cut finger, he threw his arms around Gaston's neck and made an enthusiastic attempt to return the marvelous kiss.
Eventually Gaston drew back, and Esen was fascinated by the way his dragon eye swirled with deep reds and oranges. He reached up to touch Gaston's face without thinking, murmuring, "So pretty."
"You're a little magpie, aren't you?" Gaston said with a chuckle. "One silk ribbon and your face lights up, and I think if anyone tried to take those lovely emeralds from your ears they would find themselves sorely regretting it."
Esen flushed. "I do like pretty clothes. I never had such things; I didn't know they could come in so many colors."
"You've certainly earned the right to pretty clothes, and more besides," Gaston replied, then bent to press the softest of kisses to Esen's lips before he traced them with his tongue in a way that made Esen shiver and hold him more tightly. "I admit I would rather see you out of your clothes right now."
"Yes,
that," Esen agreed, and tugged Gaston down to try another real kiss. He got so lost in it he did not notice they had moved to the bed until Gaston laid him down on top of it.
Gaston's gold skin and hair glowed by the light of the fire, and his eyes burned in a way Esen had never seen from anyone but which he liked quite a lot. Reaching out, he tugged Gaston closer and helped him get rid of their clothes.
*~*~*
It took them two days of careful hiking to reach the stronghold of the Centaurs, a towering fortress-city carved into the mountain in front of an enormous lake.
"Why are the Centaurs so against the unification?" Esen asked as they looked down on the Centaurs from their hiding place on a cliff. Far below, the fortress-city bustled with activity; it almost seemed as though every single inhabitant milled about in the enormous area around and on the lake, preparing for something.
"The Clans were united once before, a very long time ago. Back then, there were three rulers, and the Centaurs were one of those. The old saying about Dragons, Centaurs, and pride is all too true." Gaston smiled ruefully. "My mother blames herself for the Centaurs, at least in part. She did not bend back when she should have, and has said more than once that she probably still would not bend as much, though giving birth to a Chimera does a lot to humble one and drive home that there are consequences for every action—and that she is not the one who will always suffer those consequences."
"You're not so bad for a consequence."
Gaston barely muffled his laughter, shooting Esen a glare.
Grinning, Esen went back to looking at the Centaurs. "What are you going to do?"
"Talk to them, ideally, but I'm sure there will be a fight or three before it's all over," Gaston said with a sigh. "They certainly seem to be preparing for something massive, though I don't see any weapons. I suppose they would be smarter than that."
Esen did not reply, merely gave a piece of himself to the wind, eyes falling shut as he drifted on the breeze, seeing and tasting the Centaur stronghold.
A soft touch to the small of his back recalled him, and he blinked his eyes open. Gaston leaned in and kissed him. "Anything of interest?"
"I can sense a great deal of magic and metal—lots of metal," Esen said. "The air around them smells restless, and there were fires burning not too long ago. That explains why I have been smelling smoke the entire time we've been on the mountain."
"So they are preparing for something." Gaston's mouth tightened. "Stay here—"
"No."
Gaston shook his head. "This is not a debate, Esen. You've been a wonderful guide…" He reached out and cupped his hand around the back of Esen's neck. "You've been wonderful, end sentence, but now everything is going to get dangerous. I'm trained for this; I've done it many a time. You have no experience at all."
"I'm a Sylph—"
"You're a liability. We don't know what kind of magic and weapons they have, or what they're planning. If something happens to you, I'll be responsible. Worse, they can use you against me, and I don't want to be forced into a position where I must choose between you and my queen."
Esen felt like he'd been slapped. "Oh," he said. "Of—of course. I'm sorry. I'll wait up here."
Gaston frowned at him. "Esen—"
"You should go," Esen said, jerking away. "I'll stay out of the way, don't worry. I should have figured out for myself everything you had to explain." Gaston reached for him again, and this time, Esen did not jerk away fast enough—and he just didn't have it in him to resist when Gaston kissed him hard. "Be careful."
"I'm always careful," Gaston replied.
Esen did not believe that for a second, not after all the stories Gaston had told him, not after seeing all the scars on that beautiful body.
"Keep watch, and if it appears that anything has gone seriously wrong, get back to the palace as quickly as you can and tell the queen."
Esen nodded, and reluctantly remained where he was as Gaston slipped away.
He knew he was being stupid. Gaston was right—he didn't know anything about what Gaston was going down there to do. He shouldn't even be here; if he had just obediently accepted the engagement, he wouldn't be. There was no way Gaston would ever be able to choose him over the queen—over the country. He knew that. One person did not matter more than many people.
It was why he'd been disowned, after all.
But it still hurt to be left behind as a hindrance, and reminded that he was of limited use and little value.
His mind went helplessly to that overheard conversation in the queen's garden. It seemed so long ago, and yet like it could have happened yesterday. Would he someday be Justin? Was he presuming a great deal in thinking he was anything more than a guide and someone to have sex with? What did that make him?
Esen winced as several unpleasant words came to mind, things he had been called since breaking his engagement—words he'd had to look up and wished he hadn't.
He looked down as the mood in the air changed and watched as Gaston strode right into the Centaur's midst. They froze, gathered around him, and Esen wished he could hear what they were saying—but he did not dare lose himself in the wind to venture down there. It was too risky, and if something went wrong, he might not be able to react quickly enough.
One of the Centaurs reached out to grab Gaston—and Esen could not tell what happened because of the crowd, but the towering Centaur was now on the ground and the smell of blood was sharp and tangy on the air.
The entire group turned as one when something appeared in the enormous arching doorway leading into the fortress itself. Esen stared at the Centaur. He was larger than all the others, with dark skin; unlike the other Centaur, his face and chest were smooth, hairless. He had pale silver-gold hair that fell all the way down his back, just barely brushing against the curve where man met horse; there were baubles woven into the long hair, the sunlight glinting off many of them, and they rattled and chimed as he moved. He wore large gold hoops in his ears, smaller ones in his nipples. It seemed a strange place to put jewelry.
A thick gold chain was fastened about the Centaur's waist, keys and other things Esen could not identify hanging from it. The lower half of his body was the same silver-gold color as his hair, brushed smooth and gleaming, and his tail was decorated like his hair.
Esen bit his lip, then gave in to the clawing urge and let a sliver of himself into the wind, drifting down to be able to listen to what the new Centaur was going to say, not liking the way Gaston was trapped in by all the others.
Drifting down on the wind, he clung to the wings of a bird that flitted harmlessly about the group.
"Chief Ken," Gaston said. "You've earned the displeasure of our queen, unless you want to explain to me right now why you should not be the subject of her ire."
"I do not explain myself to anyone, least of all to the queen's little pet whore."
Gaston laughed at that. "I'm not to the queen's taste, but I'll take the compliment as it is intended, Chief."
Chief Ken glowered, hostility all but pouring off of him. "I've heard many things about you, Queen's Man. You're as treacherous as a Kelpie and as fickle as a Sylph."
"Don't forget as smooth as a Satyr and greedy as a Dragon. I've worked hard on that reputation, I won't have it besmirched."
"You are flippant."
"You are a fool," Gaston replied, all levity fading away to be replaced by a look that made Esen hope was never directed at him. "The Clans have been unified, and all have gladly conceded the Right of Sovereignty to the Dragon Clan."
Chief Ken sneered. "The Centaur bow to no Dragon. We bow to no one. We were rulers long before those greedy, hoarding serpents."
Gaston regarded him somberly. "Chief, you will not win whatever war you plan to start. All you will do is sacrifice your people for your pride. Her Majesty does not want further bloodshed; she seeks only peace. Leave your anger and your stubborn pride and join the Unification. All that is asked of you is attendance at the Gathering and cooperation
with the other Clans. Is that so much to ask?"
"You think this mocking peace will last? You think any of them mean what they say?"
"I know that only thirty-five years ago a longstanding hatred between three Clans was undone in a single night. That today the Lions and the Satyr and the Dragons get along as not just friends, but brothers, because three Chiefs decided to try something other than hate. I know the Unicorns share land with the Minotaurs they hated for so long, and already several marriages are being arranged. If you would bother to leave your mountain, if you would cease to stand apart, you would realize that you and you alone, Chief Ken, are continuing this futile hatred."
"We are the only ones not foolish enough to be deceived. This 'peace' you speak of will not last. It never does."
"Should it last only a century, or only another few days, that will have been more peace that we ever had before. The only threat to that peace right now is you, and my orders are to ensure you cease to be a threat. Must we do that the hard way, Chief? We ask so little of you, and you refuse to see that your stubborn refusal is causing all the harm."
"Only fools forget and discard the past. The Centaur do not forget, and when the rest of you fall apart and destroy each other, we will still be here standing strong. That is my message to your worthless queen."
Gaston bowed his head. "So be it."
Chief Ken gestured to someone behind Gaston, and Esen saw the flash of a knife. No!
He threw all of himself into the wind, clothes falling into a heap where he had been hidden in the cliffs. Calling out to the children of the wind, a musical cry that rang through the cliffs, he rushed down into the crowd, setting everything into a tizzy with winds enough to toss clothes and hair. Birds of all shapes and sizes answered his cry, diving down upon the gathered Centaur.
Rushing up to Gaston, Esen let go of the wind just enough to grasp him, cling for a moment, a wisp of air and dust as he murmured in Gaston's ear, "They tried to knife you in the back."