11

"So what were those things? The red skeletons?" Olaf huffed at the reproving look Korbinian gave him. "Don't give me anymore of your nonsense. I'm upright, if still abed, because you're all a bunch of stubborn asses. I'm awake. The boys are asleep. So tell me what it is you do not want to tell me."

Korbinian sighed and pushed to his feet, setting aside his sewing on the table. He went over to the stove and, predictably, made a cup of tea. This particular tea was from a tin Senta had left with them, to help ease pain and speed healing.

Olaf really wasn't ready to think about being one arm short and all the ramifications that would have on his life, so he focused instead on the far greater problem: that whatever had happened out there, those red skeletons with the strange necklaces, they had deeply frightened Korbinian, and that made Olaf want to run away screaming.

He took the tea when Korbinian brought it over, though it took some fumbling as he tried to grab with an arm that wasn't there. It was a green tea with various herbs, pungent and faintly sweet. "Thank you. So talk."

"I thought we were dealing with a Lich," Korbinian said slowly as he moved his chair closer to the bed and dropped into it like staying on his feet required more effort than he could provide. "Those red skeletons…"

Olaf shuddered. "I remember them. Blood shaped like bone, that's what they looked like. What were the strange necklaces?"

That got the barest hint of smile. "They are in fact called Blood Bones, the highest 'level' of Rattle Bones, after a fashion. Between them are Whisper Bones. These particular Blood Bones are the vanguard for a Lich King." Korbinian closed his eyes, head bent, hands folded, thumbs pinching the bridge of his nose. "A Lich was bad enough, but a Lich King… I don't know what the fuck happened in this valley centuries ago, but it was bad, and the knowledge was lost, and now there is a monster out here amassing more monsters, and I alone am not strong enough to stop it."

All the breath left Olaf's body. He'd expected bad news, but not defeat. What in the Five were they supposed to do when their only hope was giving up? "What's the difference between a Lich and a Lich King? Besides that one is obviously much, much worse."

"The more power a necromancer amasses in life, the more power he possesses as a Lich," Korbinian replied. "A Lich King… dies with a great deal of power. We're talking hundreds of people consumed in life, far beyond just other necromancers, which would be bad enough. So much power the body cannot contain it all, and so much is encased in special stones."

"Those purple things."

Korbinian gave a short, terse nod. "Yes. Reliquaries. Large pieces of quartz filled with raw power, dispersed across a vanguard who carry and protect them. If the vanguard is risen, then the Lich King will be back to full strength soon. I cannot fight it alone, though; that is like a single man trying to tame a tidal wave."

Olaf had no idea what a tidal wave was, but he thought he understood the gist of what Korbinian was saying. "So what do we do?"

"We get everyone out of here," Korbinian said. "As quietly but quickly as we can, down the river to safe domains, where they can spread word that no one and nothing is safe."

The words were bad enough, but it was the grim set to Korbinian's mouth, the shadows in his eyes, that really upset Olaf. "Not you, though. You're going to stay here and try to fight it anyway."

"I'm not going to fight it, but I am going to hold it back as long as I can, until help arrives. More necromancers, priests, hopefully a fucking army well warded against the Risen Dead. I can't just leave. One necromancer isn't enough, but it's something. Who knows how many people out there, in rural cottages and remote homesteads, have already been taken? How far this has spread without us realizing? I can't stop it, but I can slow it down. That's what I'm for."

He didn't say doing so would kill him, but he didn't need to.

Olaf didn't say anything, because what could he say? Nothing that would truly help. Instead he reached out with his good arm and took one of Korbinian's hands in his own. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Korbinian said softly, holding his hand tightly before letting go. "I'll get you some food and more tea."

"You and your tea," Olaf said with a smile.

Korbinian returned it, if weakly, and went to putter around the cottage, putting together tea and food. Olaf shoved away the blankets and swung his legs over the bed, shuffling to the table and slipping onto the bench. "Stop scowling at me."

"You shouldn't be out of bed yet."

"If I stay in that bed any longer, I'll go completely insane instead of just mostly," Olaf said. "How are the boys?" They'd visited earlier and had cried and cried, but Olaf had been so exhausted and disoriented from everything he didn't remember much.

Five knew the poor things would never be the same when all this was over. One scarring event after another; children were resilient, but not that resilient. Hopefully they'd get a chance to rest and heal. If he took his aunt's old house instead of selling it, they'd have a whole giant city to distract them, and he could find work…

His thoughts scattered as Korbinian set a plate in front of him, filled with venison sausage, pickled vegetables, and toasted bread. "Thank you."

"I just hand it off," Korbinian said with a smile. "People have been dropping food off all night and day. I think seeing and hearing about you scared them better than anything else has so far, and they're eager to keep me appeased after Quirin's little demonstration."

Olaf made a face.

"The children are fine, to answer your question," Korbinian added. "They stayed with you until they fell asleep, then we took them back to their bed. I've every faith they'll be returning before the sun is up. I'm sorry this happened to you. I should never—"

"I'm an adult. I make my own decisions. You don't need to apologize. You told me to run, and I didn't listen. So I'm sorry for causing you additional problems and distress."

Korbinian shook his head. "I'm just glad you're all right. Hopefully once you're safely away, you can find someone to make you a new arm."

"Safely away? You think I'm just going to leave you here alone?"

"You just said you should have listened to me!" Korbinian said, looking ready to throw his food at Olaf's head. "Listen to me this time!"

"Last time was an emergency. Now we have time to make a plan, prepare, unless they're going to pounce on us any second."

Korbinian sighed and rested his head in one hand. "No, I don't think. Soon, but not quite yet. Those Risen Dead were trying to get rid of me, but they seem content to let the town be for now. Amassing more strength, I suspect, for one big strike, something too big and powerful for the town to have any hope against. I think the Lich King is trying to reach a certain amount of strength too. He's nearly there, but we have another day I think. Time enough for all of you to get out of here, including stupid, stubborn ropemakers who have children to think of."

"We still have to do the transfer, so you're not getting rid of me that easy," Olaf retorted, and took several more bites of food. He hadn't expected to be so hungry so soon, and took it as a good sign that he was.

"If I have to knock you out and put you on the boat myself—"

"I will simply turn around and swim or walk back the moment I wake up," Olaf cut in. "So don't even try it."

Korbinian huffed. "You're irritating."

"You're domineering."

"I have never once denied that."

Olaf smiled faintly. "True. On the other hand, I never once claimed I'd be perfectly pliant and obedient."

He didn't think he was imagining the heat that flared in Korbinian's eyes, though he couldn't quite believe it was there. Fuzzy memories rose up, whispers of tea and apples, and Olaf set down the last of his bread as he licked crumbs from his lips. "Korbin—"

They both jumped at a knock on the door, and with a sigh Korbinian rose to answer it.

Senta stepped inside a moment later, eyes immediately sweeping the room, shoulders slumping with relief as they landed on him. "You're looking better."

"Certainly could be doing a whole lot worse," Olaf said, retrieving the bread he'd set aside. "Hope you're not here with more bad news."

"Not yet," Senta replied, and sat down next to him on the bench, thanking Korbinian as he poured her a cup of tea. "I finished putting up every single ward I could think of, and there is not a smidge of salt left anywhere in this town, all of it has gone to the wards. It won't keep them out, but it should slow the little bastards down."

Korbinian refilled his tea and Olaf's before reclaiming his seat. "What's the status on the town?"

"The first wave is gone, mostly men and woman without families who volunteered to clear the way, ensure there were no nasty surprises. The second wave will be mostly women and children; they leave at dawn, assuming the boats return." Her mouth flattened. "Quirin sent out two additional parties to find help, in two different directions. They're to send up flares when they reach a certain point in their journey. After that… we just have to hope."

"Thank you, Senta. I need one last favor from you."

"Name it."

Korbinian pointed at Olaf, which was more or less what Olaf had expected. "Make him get on a fucking boat."

Senta squinted at him, then cast Olaf a brief, assessing look before turning her gaze to Korbinian. "No. We need all the help we can get, and your little ropemaker here has proven to be remarkably calm and collected when facing the undead. There's also the fact he can play those pipes better than any of us, and he knows the music, which even you barely do. We can't afford to waste a single asset, even if I hate to have to send his kids away without their sole remaining parent."

"Damn you all!" Korbinian said, slamming a fist on the table. "I don't want more people dead than I can strictly avoid. He shouldn't—"

"Smother your personal feelings, whatever they might be," Senta said, "and realize that if you truly mean that, then having him here to help us is the best decision, if not the happiest."

"I hate you all," Korbinian said, standing up and practically throwing his dishes in the wash basin before storming out.

Olaf expelled a sharp breath. "What in the Five is he so angry about?"

"He's clearly developed a soft spot for you, and he feels unreasonably guilty about your arm. Körbl has not had the easiest or kindest life, and he probably fears he's going to see one more person he cares about die in a horrible, painful fashion."

"A soft spot?" Olaf's heart thudded in his chest. I would have liked tea and apples. He'd thought the words a fever dream. "We've only known each other a few days, and under the worst possible circumstances." He laughed shakily, tears stinging his eyes. "I just turned down a woman people would kill for the privilege of marrying because I was in no fit state for this sort of thing."

"I don't think the heart and mind have ever cared what state they're in, but no sense in getting ahead of yourself," Senta said. "I'm just telling you he's soft, and honestly it's not hard to see why. You're kind, you don't assume the worst and react according to those assumptions. You're brave, to the point of stupidity, really. This sort of grief and terror understandably breaks most people, but you and your remaining friends have held up remarkably well—especially you, given you're missing an entire fucking arm. Körbl will calm down."

"I'd think he'd be more upset about you remaining."

"We're comrades in arms; he's resigned to my presence," Senta replied with a laugh. "Are you doing the transfer tonight?"

Olaf shrugged, which felt strange with one arm missing. "I don't know. I would assume so, but that requires Korbinian being here and not so stubborn."

Senta snorted.

"I heard that derision, Senta," Korbinian said as he stepped back into the house. "What am I being stubborn about? Not wanting people to die? How dare I."

She slid him an amused, fond look. "That, yes, but we were talking about the transfer spell."

"The new plan was to give Olaf the papers, send him and the children to safety where they belong, and have a different necromancer handle the matter once they arrive."

Anger flickered through Olaf. "Another necromancer? Once they arrive? How about if they arrive. You don't get to make those kinds of decisions for me and my children! I agreed to do that spell because you are the one casting it, the one I trust to do it. How dare you just decide that I'm going to let a complete stranger who may or may not show perform a spell that could kill us all."

Korbinian stared at him wide-eyed, as though struck dumb. After a moment, all the tension bled from his body, shoulders slumping. "You're right. I'm sorry. Though I would like to put it on record that you barely know me and there are many necromancers out there better suited to such things."

"I'm not interested in waiting around for one I trust enough with the lives of my children, the training of one of them, being bound to myself. I can't believe you were just going to throw me at strangers like I didn't matter."

"You do matter!" Korbinian said. "You matter more than anyone has in a long time, damn you. Do you think it's easy for me to do this? Remain here, just Senta and I, knowing full fucking well we'll die? That he could do worse and claim us, use us—and now you. I don't want that for you. I don't want those boys to lose the only adult they have left."

Olaf's heart drummed so loudly in his ears he could barely hear anything except the man in front of him. Senta was still there, but she may as well not have been, Olaf's world had narrowed so tightly to just him and Korbinian. "I don't trust anyone else, not with all I've seen and learned."

"You trust me? The son of the Cannibal of Stride? The dumbass who walked right into a trap and cost you that arm?"

"The man who has saved my dumb ass multiple times. Who has not punished my sons for being the ones to open that box, who understands they're just children. Who is kind to a world that doesn't deserve it. I don't know what is going on between us, and honestly I'm not sure I'm even in a fit state to figure it out, but I know that I don't want anyone else doing that spell. If you try to force the matter, I will never forgive you. The only way I'm withdrawing is if you no longer want to do it."

Distantly he noticed the door opening and closing, but his gaze was locked on Korbinian's blazing mismatched eyes.

"I don't want you dead," Korbinian said. "You're the only good thing to enter my life in a long time. I'd rather send you off than see you stay here and die with me."

"Well, I don't want to run away knowing you'll die here alone and afraid, not when I have the power to help, even if it means upsetting Luk and Ulli. Don't send me away."

Korbinian stepped closer, right into his space, and trailed his fingertips gently down Olaf's cheek. "I really would have liked tea and apples."

"Well so far there's been plenty of tea," Olaf replied, voice barely above a whisper. "Guess that will have to do."

Huffing a soft laugh, Korbinian finally closed the remaining distance between them, lips brushing feather soft across Olaf's. Shivering, Olaf opened to the questing touch, hand coming up to cling to Korbinian's tunic.

Cupping his head, fingers curling into Olaf's hair, Korbinian deepened the kiss, tasting and exploring, the taste of his precious tea lingering. Olaf drew back just enough to moan, "Körbl…" which got him a rough, hungry little noise before Korbinian's kiss became sharper, hungrier, like he was trying to leave a mark.

Olaf could not seem to bring himself to mind the idea of being marked by Korbinian.

When they finally drew apart, Korbinian's mouth was wet and swollen, and his eyes held a fire that Olaf liked far more than was probably reasonable. Korbinian's voice was shiver-inducing husky when he said, "You're headier than the finest mead."

"Look at you saying sweet things," Olaf said.

Korbinian laughed ever so softly, and then they were kissing again, a stolen moment of sweet heat before they had to return to the nightmare they now lived in.

After a few more minutes, Korbinian stepped back with a noise of pure frustration. "Come on, since you're being a stubborn ass about this and I have clearly lost the battle and the war, let's go fetch the boys and do the transfer."

Olaf nodded, not quite able to speak yet, heart still pounding, thoughts spinning wildly. With Korbinian's help, he got his jacket on, breath hitching with hurt as Korbinian then pinned his sleeve up out of the way.

It was only an arm. He'd be fine. There was no reason to cry, even if he was worried about the future.

"You can be upset, you know. I can see in your face you're trying to be stoic, but losing a limb is traumatic when lost in more ordinary ways, let alone the way you did."

"I'm fortunate I am not one of those things."

"That doesn't mean you don't deserve to grieve and worry."

Olaf sighed. "You're right, but it will have to wait until there is time for such luxuries."

"Fair enough."

Korbinian led the way out, and they walked together through the streets to Greta's house. Despite the hour, the lights were lit, and Greta was working furiously to pack and clean. She looked up as they entered, and immediately dropped everything to bustle over to them. "Olaf! Oh, Five, your poor arm. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, much better than I should be, honestly, thanks to Körbl and Senta. How are you?"

"Fine, fine," Greta said, clearly not fine at all. "Lots of packing to do, especially since everyone is only allowed one trunk and two bags. Do you think… do you think…"

It was Korbinian who took her fluttering hands and held them firm. "I will do everything in my power to ensure there is a home for you to return to."

Olaf slipped away, leaving them to talk, and went upstairs to where he'd stashed the coins he'd found. Taking two, he took them downstairs. "Here, Greta, for all you've done for us, and so that if the worst happens, you won't need to worry about anything."

She gasped as she took in the coins and looked near to bursting into tears. "I couldn't possibly!"

"You can and you will," Olaf said, curling her fingers around the coins. "I found several of them when we were combing through Rochdale. I've been meaning to share them out, but one thing after another… at least I was able to give you your share." He kissed her cheek. "Thank you for everything. I'm sorry I couldn't… be more."

Greta scoffed as she tucked the coins away. "The matter's over. I assume you're staying here?"

"Yes, I want to help."

"Those boys will cry and cry, but Bianka and I will look after them for you. We'll all be waiting, so you make certain you come to us. Both of you." She sniffled and dried her eyes with the apron she still wore. "Assume you're here for the boys, for that what all you need to do?"

"Yes. We'll return in a couple of hours, drop them off quietly so as not to disturb you."

"I won't be sleeping, and I'm nearly done packing, so I'll have some breakfast waiting for you."

Olaf hugged her, and Korbinian followed suit, which clearly startled Greta, but she returned it fervently. They headed upstairs, where the boys slept deep and still.

"I slipped them something in their dinner so they'd sleep through it," Korbinian said. "There shouldn't be any pain involved, but in case there is, I didn't want to add more bad memories to their pile."

"I appreciate it." Olaf bent to pick up Luk, but faltered as he tried to do it the way he always had. Which he couldn't now. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he shifted to kneel on the bed, scooped him up in his remaining arm, and draped him across his shoulder. Luk snuffled and muttered in his sleep, arms coming up reflexively to wrap around Olaf's neck, making his eyes sting.

Korbinian's fingers trailed down his spine in gentle reassurance, and then he lifted Ulli into his arms, and they headed back downstairs and out of the house, where Korbinian took the lead again, wending through the town until he came to an old, empty lot that looked like a house had burned down some time ago and nobody had yet torn down the remaining rubble and built something new.

"I'd wanted to do this beyond the walls, but that's not an option now. Hopefully this will suffice. The whole place is warded so that if something goes wrong, it doesn't extend beyond this space. Set Luk in that circle."

There were four circles in all, carved into the dirt and filled with chalk or white sand, almost glowing in the moonlight. They overlapped, forming a strange sort of four-pointed star, and more magical sigils than Olaf had ever seen in his life filled them and the surrounding area.

He laid Luk where Korbinian had pointed and brushed strands of hair from his forehead. They were slightly damp, like he and Ulli had overheated, which was likely, given they always insisted on falling asleep clinging like ivy to stone. "What next?"

"You stand there," Korbinian replied, pointing to the circle that would on a compass be the southern point, with Korbinian stepping into the northern. At their feet, the sigils shimmered silver, then yellow, then a familiar apple green.

Through the loose shirts they wore, the marks on Ulli and Luk's chests glowed as well. Olaf touched his own chest, where the mark would soon likely be.

"All right, there shouldn't be pain or anything, at least nothing severe, but I stress again this is something I've only read about, so I don't really know what will happen." When Olaf nodded, he continued, "Whatever happens, don't leave the circle. I'll let you know when it's safe to leave it, but until I say otherwise, stay right where you are."

"I understand."

Korbinian nodded, then pulled some folded sheets of paper from inside his jacket. His beautiful eyes glowed like the sigils they stood on as he began to recite the contents.

The glow in the sigils strengthened, grew painfully bright. Despite the clawing need to keep watch over Luk and Ulli, Olaf was forced to shut his eyes. Though he understood none of what Korbinian was saying, his voice was soothing, an anchor to keep him steady in this storm of strange and wild magic.

He jerked, gasped, as a hot-cold tingling seared across his chest, settling into a crude circle, growing hotter, colder, biting, stinging. Olaf bit his lip against it, faintly tasting blood, holding fast to Korbinian's voice, focusing on staying still and upright.

Then everything stopped. Stilled. Olaf gasped from the shock of it, swaying on his feet as the hot-cold sensation flared sharper than ever, like touching something so frozen and cold it burned. The light before his eyes went out, and he slowly opened them.

Korbinian stared back, the papers in his hand scattered across the ground. He opened his mouth, but then almost as one he and Olaf dropped to their knees, slammed by an overload of sensation. Weariness. Fear. Pain. Curiosity. Relief. Affection, new and fragile but steadily growing. Lust. Confusion. Hope.

Not all of those emotions were Olaf's. He looked up, clutching at his chest, and stared into Korbinian's wide eyes, their mixed emotions jangling like bells in a storm. "What in the fuck."

"It'll calm down with time, I think," Korbinian said, pressing the heel of one hand to his forehead. "It had better. I can't function like this."

"No, it's, uh, rather distracting."

He felt as much as heard Korbinian's amusement and drew a shuddery breath. "For a spell that's so illegal, I expected… you know what, nevermind."

Korbinian laughed outright at that, and something like fondness rolled through their new bond. Night, this really was going to take getting used to. He was used to being the only one in his head. That someone else could share the space was not something that had ever occurred to him.

Combined with everything else, it was… a lot. Too much. But he could only keep going.

Shunting away all the things that were beyond his control, he put his attention on what he could: Luk and Ulli, still fast asleep and oblivious to the continuing ripples of their one small act. Olaf pulled up Luk's shirt and sighed to see that where the mark had been was only a faint white stain, like a spot covered while the rest of him had tanned.

Relief that wasn't his filled his mind as Korbinian examined Ulli. "Seems like all is well. Only time will tell for certain, but these are all good signs. Let's get them back to bed, and then find our own beds."

Olaf nodded, hefted Luk over his shoulder, and followed Korbinian back to Greta's house.

Despite saying she wouldn't be sleeping, Greta was fast asleep in her rocking chair, knitting in her lap. As promised, though, breakfast waited for them. They put the kids back in bed, took the food, and departed as quietly as they'd arrived.

They walked back to Korbinian's house in silence, though so much jangled around in Olaf's head, leaving his heart pounding, that it didn't feel silent at all.

In Korbinian's house, they set the food down, but then Olaf simply froze, unable to sit, unable to even move, so suddenly overwhelmed by everything, he didn't know what to do.

A hand, large and warm, grasped his arm, turned him and pulled him close, and Korbinian's other arm looped around his shoulders right before he dipped his head to take a kiss, and fuck if that wasn't exactly what Olaf had needed.