Anna Stephens - Bloodchild

‘And believe me, you have no idea how much courage it’s taken Crys to send me here with the prospect of forgiveness. It’s certainly not something I suggested, because I have seen every last one of those scars you put into him, and those that live only on the inside, too, that even he might not know are there.’

Ash paused to get his voice back under control. ‘Those are the scars we’ll have to deal with when this is all over, if any of us are alive to do so. Those are the ones that will define the rest of his life, his ability to sleep peacefully, our chance at happiness. Those are the ones I don’t want you to ever forget inflicting. And with all that said, he’s still trying to find a way to forgive you.’

Dom’s chest was heaving with repressed sobs. ‘Can he? Can you?’ he choked out.

Ash’s face twisted. ‘No. Maybe. I don’t know. But I do know he’s the one you pray for,’ he added, jerking a finger out at the night. ‘Pray for Crys, and pray to the Fox God. Not Her, never again Her. Got it?’

‘Got it.’ Dom licked his lips and nodded, looking away. ‘Are you … going to tell him?’

‘Are you going to do it again?’

Dom shook his head – and meant it.

‘Then no. But don’t let him down like that again.’

Ash picked up the knife Dom had used and examined its edge, then shoved it deliberately through his belt. Dom fidgeted, wanting to ask for it back, knowing how it would sound. No hand, no weapons, no way to hurt himself or others. Bitterness rose in him to mingle with the guilt, the hope, the grief.

Ash wiped his hands on his shirt as though they’d touched something foul. ‘Come on, then,’ he said in a voice cold as an axe blade. ‘He still wants to see you.’

Seventh moon, first year of the reign of King Corvus

The Belt, Krike

Green Ridge could field two hundred warriors, and all of them followed Crys when he left the town three days later. He’d expected to leave them behind, pick them up on his way back through towards Rilpor, but they elected to follow him instead.

‘And by follow,’ Crys hissed to Ash on the fourth day out of Green Ridge and through the thick pine forests known as the Belt, ‘I mean everywhere. I’m pretty sure I saw one watching me have a shit yesterday.’

Ash glanced behind at the Krikites; Crys didn’t. He knew what he’d see. Cutta Frog-dream walked half a dozen paces behind with Dom, and behind them were ranged the warriors. They watched his every move like stoats watching a rabbit burrow. Unblinking.

‘Yeah, that’s creepy,’ Ash said when he turned back. ‘But they’ll get used to it. I have, despite the yellow eyes lighting up the night when I’m trying to sleep.’

‘You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?’ Crys demanded, tapping his fingers on the pommel of his sword; he’d traded the axe he’d brought with him and the new blade was decent quality, well weighted. However curious about him they were, the Krikites at least boasted some talented smiths. The pine needles underfoot were springy, lending energy to his steps, the rich scent sharp in his nose. He had an urge to sprint off ahead and leave them all behind – leave everything behind. Prophecies and legends and the prospect of war.

Ash pressed his lips together but couldn’t suppress a hoot of laughter. ‘It’s not their fault,’ he said with an air of implausible seriousness, ‘they’ve never actually met a god before. I don’t think any of them expected you to be so handsome. Oh yes, I’ve seen the women – and a fair few men – eyeing you up, don’t think I haven’t. Should I be jealous?’

‘Hilarious,’ Crys muttered again, blushing. ‘You have no idea how weird this is, though. Half the time I think I’ve just gone mad and no one’s had the heart to tell me.’

‘Crys, my love, you’ve gone mad. We just didn’t have the heart to tell you.’

‘Stop it,’ he snapped. Ash raised his eyebrows. ‘I’m not who they think I am. I mean, I am, but I’m me too. No one wants to know me; they just want to see Him. I’m invisible.’

‘You looked pretty visible when you were getting dressed this morning,’ Ash teased. ‘I remember it distinctly. The manly sweep of shoulders, the pale curve of your arse—’

‘This is serious,’ Crys almost screamed, fingers curling into claws in his hair. ‘I don’t know who I am any more.’

We’re us, the Fox God said, as if it was simple.

‘You’re you, you’re Crys, heart-bound to Ash.’ Ash echoed the internal words so closely it was eerie. The laughter fell from his face. ‘You’re mine,’ he added, ‘and you were mine before all this happened. You’ll be mine again afterwards.’

‘I’ll be dead afterwards,’ Crys said and the silence between them then was so profound he nearly fell into it. He caught Ash’s hand in his, waiting for his lover to denounce his words. He didn’t and Crys’s gut twisted within him. Every time they’d skirted the subject before, Ash had been vehement in his denials. Now, maybe because of what had happened with the Fox God and the stone in Green Ridge, his opinion had changed. He believed Crys was going to die and that meant Crys believed it too, bone-deep for the first time. Nothing could save him.

And the godlight will lead us all, to death and beyond. Thanks Dom, you always were a cheery fucker even before you tried to kill me.

Crys glanced back to where the calestar walked alongside Cutta Frog-dream. The knowing that had meant nothing for so long, that had been empty words easily forgotten, was coming true. The Fox God brushed against him, reassurance and gentle mockery, humour and love. Crys pushed Him away, feeling as if he was an intruder in his own body.

‘Maybe none of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t brought me back,’ Ash said and Crys registered the guilt in his face. ‘I mean, you made that promise in return for me. If you hadn’t—’

‘If I hadn’t I’d already be dead,’ Crys said, squeezing his hand hard and feeling a flush of guilt himself. He’d never considered how Ash must feel. They stopped walking. ‘I’d have got myself killed during the siege. Nothing mattered to me in those minutes when I knew you were dead, love. Nothing. I’d have made any promise, done anything, to have you back. And … the Fox God was always here, I know that now. He’d have found a way out when He needed to, no matter what. This way I got you. I got a whole life to cram into however long we have, and I intend to make the most of it. If you want?’

Ash wiped at his eye with a thumb, his palm sweaty in Crys’s grip. ‘I want,’ he said in a scratchy voice. ‘I want it all, but I’ll settle for this. For you and these next …’ He trailed off.

Crys swallowed and forced a smile. ‘Days. Weeks. Months. How about we don’t count?’

‘Numbers are overrated,’ Ash said, and although it wasn’t funny, they laughed anyway.

The snake of warriors had come to a halt behind them instead of carrying on, waiting in a respectful hush. Crys faced Cutta. ‘We’ll catch you up,’ he said. She paused; then she nodded and led her warriors on.

‘What’s wrong?’ Ash asked before he caught the glint in Crys’s eye. ‘Oh. Oh. Catch you up. Got it.’ His smile was hot. ‘Well, you know what they say: a bow long bent grows weak. Some time off should do us both some good.’

They wandered off the main track and Crys could feel eyes on them as they went, knowing they were seen. He squeezed Ash’s hand. He didn’t care.

‘You really need to stop saying “gods” when we make love,’ Ash said later, leaning on one elbow to pick pine needles from Crys’s hair. ‘It’s like you’re talking to yourself.’