This time, when the Wise Ma's urgent wringing revived him, Lyle discerned somebody take a firm grip on his hand on his other side.
Ben sat up, mumbling something about feeling "groggier than the groggiest New Year's Day hangover." Lyle, despite a headache that felt like it would crack his skull open, allowed relief to flutter.
"You let him go, Lyle," said the Wise Ma. "Well done."
Lyle and Ben had fallen into each other arms. "I'm afraid my apologies are way beyond inadequate," said Lyle, hardly daring to take comfort in Ben's embrace. "This gets worse and worse. I've no idea how that creature got in there."
"I take it Lyle tried to kill his lover and now is claiming he didn't mean that either?" asked Emmet, plainly enjoying the whole affair.
"Benjamin, please tell me what happened," said the Wise Ma. Lyle, released by Ben, gladly let Ben do so. Lyle gingerly pulled his ripped t-shirt back on, then sat cross-legged and hid behind the curtain of his lank hair. He found he'd not the resources to do or think much beyond urging the piercing pain within his scalp to wane.
At the end of Ben's account, which seemed accurate from Lyle's perspective, everyone went very quiet. Lyle raised his weary head to face the Wise Ma, who seized both his palms and scrutinized them.
"Is it…?" he stammered. "Am I…?"
Lyle couldn't articulate the question on the tip of his tongue. Sil peered up at him. "This dragon was not among your memories, was it?"
"Not that I know of," admitted Lyle. At least his headache seemed to be ebbing and he felt slightly brighter. "I've never seen one, but I've always liked dragons. Although I'm not entirely sure I do anymore."
"Do not be hasty to pass judgement," said the Wise Ma. "A dragon is the sign and symbol of an undine of great destiny, and it must be inside you for good reason. You have a bold nature and were born for great things, Lyle."
"Oh, in the name of all the Gods and Goddesses," cried Emmet. "Haven't we seen and heard enough evidence that this creature—my so-called cousin—needs to be dealt with for good. He's invented the dragon to blame his devilish deeds upon something other than his own wicked self. But it is his wicked self. He's a devil."
Lyle cringed. He preferred when Emmet called him "child," at least in front of Ben. Lyle wished the Wise Ma would release him so he could swipe his hair from his eyes and examine Ben properly. What was Ben thinking? Was Ben's faith finally shaken?
Slowly, and torturously to Lyle, the Wise Me recounted everything sil had learned from the trip into Lyle's memories and Ben's later experiences. "My decision is made," concluded the Wise Ma. "Lyle is free to go. None of this situation was of his making, although he must learn to use his powers with greater caution, for they are truly great. Greater, indeed, than we may yet know. Welwyn, on the other hand, died a hero—yet he was not a hero for much of his long life. It was his wrong-doing which brought you all here. Even at the end, he didn't comprehend how erroneous his actions had been. And he always underestimated you, Lyle."
"Yeah," said Lyle, dolefully, as the Wild Ma finally let him go. "He didn't know what a monster I was."
"Don't say that, love."
Lyle puffed his hair from his nose, not daring to believe in the twinkling smile Ben now offered him. Ben winked, and Lyle gasped. He'd never seen Ben wink. Since when had Ben been the whimsical one?
"I told you so," said Ben. "I knew you didn't kill Welwyn. I've seen you in action before, remember? I know things can go badly, but I trust you more than you trust yourself. And hey, you just rescued me from a dragon. You don't get any more heroic or romantic than that." Before Lyle could argue, Ben turned to the Wise Ma. "Please can we go home now?"
"Don't be foolish. Lyle can't go anywhere. I certainly understand why Welwyn locked him away and…" Emmet kept complaining, although his words subsided into the cave's peripheries, unheard. Ben and the Wise Ma locked themselves in a staring contest just as intense as the one Lyle had entered into with the dragon, and neither seemed keen to back down.
"We need to go home now," said Ben, resolute. "It's very important. I have a job interview tomorrow. Heck, it could be today for all I know—I've lost track of the time that's passed. And you know what I know, don't you? Lyle isn't a monster. He doesn't attack folk."
At least, not deliberately. But I'm not so sure about that dragon.
Lyle discovered he was trapped between ice and fire. The Wise Ma's eyes swirled like an artic snow storm on one side, while Ben's clamped an increasingly hot and sweaty hand to his knee on the other. "I love Lyle, damn it," continued Ben. "If anybody tries to keep him here, I'll bulldozer down that cave wall and rescue him myself. I swear it on all that's sacred."
"Might be tricky," countered Lyle. "You don't know exactly where I am. We're probably halfway up a sea-cliff, and…" He trailed off, and then did a double take. Not only had the Wise Ma looked away first, but sil rocked with silent laughter.
"What's so funny?" asked Emmet. "This is absurd. Surely Lyle should at least justify his terrible deed to the rest of the family?"
"I believe you're the one with explaining to do, Emmet," said the Wise Ma. "The head of a clan who admits he's none who love him? Rebellion comes slowly among our kind, but it always catches up with bad leaders in the end. I'd focus on your own troubles, Emmet, and leave Lyle be."
"Good," said Ben, patting Lyle encouragingly. "Now do we have to fly Albatross Air back up the English Channel, or is there a better way? I'm not sure the waistband of my trousers will take much more strain, and being held up by your pants like that don't half dig in around the crotch."
Finally, Lyle joined Ben and the Wise Ma in their gentle mirth, though he couldn't help protesting. "Maybe I shouldn't be let go? I nearly killed Kristof; I accidentally killed Welwyn. Plus, there's a ruddy great dragon in my head and I don't know how it got there!"
"Yeah, I get all of that now," said Ben. "I still trust you to do the right thing. Sil trusts you too." Ben plied Lyle's lips with a brief kiss. "We'll find a way to work things out, I promise."
"You always say that, but—"
The cave disintegrated once more. Lyle grabbed for Ben, and they fell swift and fast, clasped in each other's arms. They landed in a heap on their sofa back in their messy little flat, which swirled around Lyle for a few moments before coming to rest.
He flopped back, panting, against the arm of the couch. The room was lit from the road outside, where a streetlight shone through their open blind.
They were back, and a glance at the digital clock in the kitchenette revealed it was only ten thirty in the evening. It seemed too good to be true. "That Wise Ma's magic pisses all over mine," muttered Lyle.
Ben lifted his head from where it'd landed in Lyle's lap. "I think I've had enough magic for now, thank you very much. And I can't believe you've gone and ruined another perfectly decent set of clothes. Poor Lyle."
Lyle pulled a face but didn't feel the need to tell Ben he was sorry yet again. For better or worse, Ben understood. No secrets wormed betwixt them, not anymore, although they'd one matter they urgently had to talk about.
Ben had extracted himself and staggered to the kitchen to put the kettle on before Lyle assembled the right words.
"Uh, Ben," he said, still draped on the sofa. "About that dragon. I, um, really don't know why it's there, but…"
Ben piled three spoons of sugar into his mug. "But what, love?"
"It could be just a figment of my imagination, I suppose. I mean, I always liked dragons. Maybe I just made it up, and it represents that part of me that loves you so much he, uh, never wants you out of his sight. That said, I didn't exactly recognise the dragon, so he's not a fantasy I've ever had before. So… it could be the sign of a bold nature, like the Wise Ma said. Not that I'm feeling particularly bold right now. Or, um… look, before I tell you my final theory, I want to reassure you that I won't stop you if you really, really want to leave me after this."
"Oh dear." The sofa sagged as Ben sank down next to him. "Let's stop doing this to each other? One of my greatest fears is you'll realize how dull and ordinary I am and leave me for somebody more interesting and special. And you… you seem to believe I'll do the same because you're so extraordinary. Let's just call a truce on it, okay?"
"Very well."
Ben slurped his tea and spread an arm along the back of the seat behind Lyle, who remained stiff as a board. "What is it, love? You can tell me."
Lyle forced the words out. "When I stabbed the dragon with the sword, it gave me the mother of all headaches, worse than when the albatrosses knocked me out. What if, Ben... What if I am the dragon? What then?"
*~*~*
After a disarmingly long and dreamless sleep, Lyle awoke to bright sunlight streaming through a gap in the curtains. Ben sat up in the bed beside him. A book titled A Numbskull's Guide to Interview Questions was propped on Ben's knees.
"Glad you're awake," said Ben. "You'll be happy to know Mr Bertrand forgave me my unannounced absence yesterday when I pleaded I all but passed-out with a sudden and debilitating migraine. He seemed to be in a better mood this morning than before, thank goodness. I do feel bad, though. Oh, and please will you press my suit and fix my tie? You're way better at these things than me."
Lyle snuggled the duvet up to his chin, slid a fin over to stroke Ben's thigh, and mumbled a prayer of gratitude to all the Gods and Goddesses. Everything had returned more or less to normal. At least, life had reverted to the new normal of the past few blissful months of living with Ben.
Yes, Ben had added a shot of whiskey to his cup of tea last night while Lyle explained his theory about being a dragon-shifter, something he hoped was a remote possibility. He'd recalled a legend about an ancient prince, the founder of their family, who harnessed the magic of the elements with an ease unknown before or since. So the story went, the prince, who was called Clewell, sometimes took the form of a dragon. Fortified by the scotch, Ben had calmly processed the information. He'd pointed out that Lyle had passed nearly two-hundred years without any dragon-shifting action, so it didn't seem likely he'd turn into a fire-breathing beastie anytime soon.
"I'm going to have to tweak my risk assessment on you, though," Ben had jested. "I wonder what precautions I ought to take to prevent being ravaged by a dragon."
Once Lyle had stopped sulking about the joke, they'd been tempted to have sex anyway. But seeing as they both had lingering headaches, they'd opted for an early-ish night instead. Lyle hoped Ben's quiet acceptance would last, though he still wasn't sure he deserved such forgiveness. The uncharted range of his own magic was starting to scare him, and…
"Shit, it's well past eight o'clock." Ben put the book down and threw the covers aside, dragging Lyle back to the present. "We better get moving. Will you quiz me with some lines from this book, please?"
Lyle fired Ben with interview questions all through breakfast. By the time he combed Ben's hair and fixed his tie, he grew tired of the repetitive quiz lines.
"What skills have you learned in your most recent employment?" he murmured, concentrating far harder on brushing Weetabix crumbs from the front of Ben's best shirt. Damn, Ben scrubbed up well. If they hadn't both been so jittery and in a rush, Lyle would've ripped those slick clothes off Ben just for the pleasure of ravishing him and then dressing him up all smart again.
Ben furrowed his brow as he mulled over the answer, however, reminding Lyle how he had been frustrated by his current job at the ice-cream parlour.
"I really hope they don't ask me about it," replied Ben, at length. "I mean, what can I say? I'm not quite as good at scooping out the mint-choc-chip as my boyfriend is, but my customer services skills are somewhat steadier."
Lyle hissed guiltily as he straightened Ben's collar. He'd been trying not to hash over his inner demons that morning, knowing Ben needed to focus on the interview. But that response couldn't pass without comment.
"Ah, yes," said Lyle. "Your boyfriend. Let me ask you about him. He wrecks lives, he's not safe to be let out in public without sprouting weird fins, and it's his fault you're struggling on minimum wage when you once had a fine career on the go. Remind me again why you don't ditch him?"
Ben rolled his eyes. "Because I love—"
Lyle pressed his fingers to Ben's lips. "That won't wash this time. Even removing the threats of albatrosses and dragons, there's a part of you that wishes you were back in the midlands with your old job, living in a lovely thatched cottage and driving your convertible car thingy. In the long term, you'll resent me for spoiling all that. You know you will."
"I really have made you feel that way lately, haven't I?" said Ben, shaking his head with apparent disbelief. "And I'm still doing it, even this morning, even after everything. What an idiot I am."
"But, Ben—"
"No, you listen, love." It was Ben's turn to stun Lyle with the sheer force of words. "I see everything clearly now, and I totally understand why you hesitated to tell me about Welwyn. I've been distant and stressed and, oh yes, I've droned on and on about how my old job was better, about how we needed a better place to live. But… oh, please believe me. I had no life before you. I just drifted along, going through the motions. You are my life, Lyle! How on earth can you think that you wrecked it? That you could ever wreck it? And that's a good job I've got at the parlour, really it is. There's plenty of folk out of work around here, and I ought to appreciate it. I only complained because I want things to be even better for us… and to be perfect for you."
Lyle grabbed Ben's shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug, which segued into a wet, sloppy kiss. Lyle did his best not to ruck up Ben's neatly gelled hair, although resisting pushing Ben down onto the sofa and jumping his bones then and there proved difficult.
"I've already got perfection," rasped Lyle into Ben's ear. "And you don't need to apologize. I should know you well enough by now to understand you too. Maybe I've been a tad overdramatic… but, thank you, anyway." He sucked Ben's earlobe, enjoying the way Ben leaned into him and moaned. He'd just begun trailing kisses down Ben's throat—taking care not to ruffle Ben's collar, or worse, leave a love bite—when the alarm on Ben's mobile phone bleeped.
"Agh," said Ben, prying Lyle off him. "One hour till the interview. I've got to go. Want to walk with me to the town hall?"
"I wouldn't let you go alone," said Lyle. Ben scrutinized his phone screen fiercely. "What is it?"
"Nothing bad. In fact, you're going to like this." Ben waggled his eyebrows. "I've had a notification from the online auction I set up for A Seahorse Extravaganza. Not just one, but two people have bid. The selling price is already seventy-five quid, and the sale doesn't end for another four hours. Cool, huh?"
"Gosh, that's superb," said Lyle, as amazed as he was pleased. "But let's save all our luck for you today, right? For the job? I want you to be satisfied with our life together more than anything in the world."
Ben's expression stilled and grew serious. "I'm not sure this is a great day for an interview, after all. Because if they ask me what I really want in life, it's going to be hard to say this job matters much at all. Not without resorting to our old bad habit of lying. But either way, we better get moving."
He slipped his mobile away into his back pocket and allowed Lyle to fuss over him, straightening his collar and sorting his hair yet again. Lyle prayed Ben didn't truly mean to blow any question for the sake of their love.
His happiness overflowed, all the same.