Chapter 51

 

Whyborne

I watched Griffin carefully as we made our way back through the twisted labyrinth of the city. For the most part, he seemed well enough, but my fears didn’t ease. Once or twice, he stumbled over nothing, like a man regaining his land legs after a long voyage at sea. His eyes scanned the walls, the murals, even the floor and ceiling avidly, as if seeing something new and fascinating at every turn.

Workers swarmed before us, and the stately soldiers floated ponderously ahead and behind. What if I had made some terrible mistake?

Then I’d made a mistake. I couldn’t dither about the future, not when I had Griffin to worry over in the present. He could see arcane energy now, and possibly other things as well. What would that do to him? Would it make him vulnerable to mental manipulation, as I was vulnerable to the dweller?

A fear for another day. What was done was done, and we might none of us survive this. And if we did, I’d teach him everything I knew about how to strengthen his mental defenses. Just in case.

I took his hand in mine. The air grew colder as we ascended, but his wedding band was still warm from the heat of his body. He cast me a questioning look, but I only squeezed his fingers. He seemed to understand, though, squeezing mine back and walking closer to me, so our arms brushed together.

But his affection brought up another concern. “What does Jack think about...us?” I asked, careful to keep my voice low.

“I think he’s more confused than anything. But I talked to him, tried to explain to him that we’ve built a life together.” Griffin shook his head. “I’m sorry I tried to keep our relationship hidden. I should have told him before we came here, and let him decide to either look past it or cut off all ties with me. After Pa...”

“It was difficult for you. I understand.”

He shook his head. “Yes, but that isn’t what I meant. After Pa, I should have learned my lesson. It’s one thing to be cautious, to conceal ourselves from the public gaze. But any family I want to be close to will find out eventually, one way or the other. If my other brother is still alive, and I’m lucky enough to find him, I’ll explain everything as soon as it seems prudent to do so. That way, if he’s been convinced by a second-rate sorcerer that you’re some terrible influence, it will either confirm things or make him question them sooner.”

Do you think the Endicotts might find him?” How far would they go to see me destroyed?

“They found Jack,” Griffin pointed out. “But without knowing where he might be, there’s nothing we can do about it. And if we do find him, and he proves to be repulsed by my inclinations, at least it means your cousins can’t use him as a tool against us.”

“True.” I didn’t point out there were other ways it could go wrong. Blackmail would always be a possibility, should we be found out by those unsympathetic to our love. But at the moment, walking down an underground corridor built in primeval times, accompanied by floating monsters, on our way to try and stop Turner from handing over a new Mother of Shadows to the Endicotts, blackmail and scandal seemed so inconsequential as to not even bother mentioning.

When we reached the great doors, I stopped well back from them and let go of Griffin’s hand. He went to the doorway, staring at something none of us could see. He stretched out one hand, almost in a caress.

“What does it look like?” Jack asked.

Griffin’s mouth thinned. “Like...knots? A tangle of magic. Spiky and sparking. Fire in the air.”

A chill went through me. I didn’t like the cadence his voice had taken on, not quite his own. “Griffin,” I said quietly.

He blinked. “Yes. Forgive me.” He regarded the lines only he could perceive for a long moment, then nodded, as if he’d come to some conclusion.

Or as if agreeing with someone the rest of us couldn’t hear.

“I think the easiest thing will be for me to guide you, Whyborne,” he said. “Stand behind me and put your hands over mine. If you feel the shape of the spell, you can break it, correct?”

“Possibly,” I said. I started toward him, then stopped, recalling my reaction to the arcane power I’d taken from the cursed pearl back in Widdershins. “I think the rest of you should go on ahead.”

Christine frowned. She’d recovered enough to walk unassisted, although I worried how she would hold up on the long climb back to the surface. “You aren’t about to do something foolish, are you?” she asked suspiciously.

“Of course not!” My cheeks heated as I tried to think of some less embarrassing explanation. “I’m not entirely certain what will happen to the arcane energy when the seals break. Probably nothing, but it makes no sense to endanger anyone other than the two of us. Just as a precaution.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Very well. We’ll await you at the top of the ramp. And you’d best not make us wait long.”

She and Iskander started off, but Jack wavered. “I should stay...”

“Go, Jack,” Griffin said. “It will be all right. I trust Whyborne with my life.”

When Jack departed, Griffin glanced at me. “Is it so dangerous?”

“No,” I confessed. My face felt scalded. “It’s just, when I broke the curse on the pearl, it...affected me. I don’t know for certain this will, but...well.”

Griffin frowned. “Why are you blushing? How exactly did the curse breaker affect you?”

“Can we please just get on with it?”

“Very well.” He turned back to the doorway and held out his hands, resting them against something I couldn’t see. Pressing against his back, I reached out and wrapped my hands over his, fingers splayed between his.

He leaned back into me. “Now close your eyes,” he murmured. “And try to see the pattern I trace.”

I obeyed. With my eyes shut, I became keenly aware of the thick layers of clothing separating us. The smell of his skin, the honest scent of sweat cutting through the acrid stew of the umbrae. The soft sigh of his breath. The back of his hands against my palms, warm and inviting.

And beneath that, a flicker. As I’d felt when mapping the lines of power in Widdershins, or studying the cursed pearl.

“Do you sense it?” he asked.

“Yes.” My voice was ragged, thick.

He moved his hands, tracing the lines of the spells, my fingers threaded through his. The pattern bloomed in my mind, streaks of fire against the darkness. The sigils drew their strength from the sun, and on this, the darkest night of the year, they lay vulnerable and exposed. I could feel the power now, throbbing under my fingers, in my temples, my scars, my groin. And I could feel him against me, so close but cruelly separated by our heavy clothing. Everything else fell away; there existed only us and darkness and fire.

“Again,” I said, because I had to get this right.

His hands moved, tracing lines. Power flowed now, through us, between us, as I mapped the ancient sigils like a lover’s skin. My heart pounded and my cock ached. Griffin’s hood had fallen back, his hair against my lips. I lowered my head, licked the skin on the nape of his neck.

A little gasp escaped him, and it sent blood jolting through me. “Ival, what...?”

The scars on my arm ached, but not unpleasantly, more like an itch that feels almost sensuously good to scratch. Power shimmered beneath my fingers, thick here, thin there. I probed the gaps, felt them yield against my will. Stifling a groan, I bit the back of Griffin’s neck where I had licked before.

He cried out and shuddered against me. Pleasure sizzled through me at the press of cloth against heated flesh, but it wasn’t enough. He rubbed his hips back against me with a whimper, seeking friction.

The strands of the spell wrapped around us, reacting to my touch. I tightened the fingers of my right hand around his as I found the softest point of the seals, the key to unraveling everything.

Yes. There.

I thrust in, my body a living tool for my will, the spell yielding before me. Griffin cried out again. Power trembled and I tasted burning copper in my mouth. My scars ached hotly as I drank down the spell’s energy. Its arcane fire seemed to scald me from the inside. The smell of scorched wool rose from my right sleeve, but I didn’t care. Nothing mattered but this: heat and fire and power and—

Something gave way, like the snapping of a rubber band. I stumbled back, blinking dazedly against the lantern light, bright after the darkness behind my eyes. My breath came in ragged spurts, my cock heavy, and my blood burned. Griffin turned to face me, his eyes wild with lust. For a moment, I thought he might drop to his knees in front of me then and there.

I wanted him to. I wanted to tear aside his clothing and take him on the floor, make him beg for more while I fucked him.

No. I flung my hand out to stay him, and forced myself to take deep breaths.

“I can see the power in you,” he said hoarsely.

“We have to go.” I swallowed hard. “Stop Turner.”

“I...yes.” He took a deep breath. “I see why you asked the others to leave.”

Displaced air hissed behind me. The soldiers emerged from the corridor, gliding forward. One passed over my head and, for the first time in untold millennia, left the city where its kind had been sealed.

I lowered my hand. “Come,” I said. And walked back through the doorway, the power I’d stolen from the seals boiling in my blood.