Chaos (22 page)

He stopped only when he reached the landing halfway down, where the steps stopped and widened out to give people in need a place to rest. Every part of him ached, and his head felt as though someone had driven something sharp into it. Friedrich tried to move, but could only whimper in pain and hold still again.

The sound of voices penetrated the pain, and he thought he heard people say his name, still others screaming his title. Friedrich tried to tell them he was fine, tried to beg them not to touch him, hoped somebody would realize that was a bad idea—

And then it was too late, and people were crowding around him, touching him, and the tenuous grasp he had on his mind finally broke. Friedrich screamed as the presence of too many people consumed him, as  too many visions, too many threads, finally overwhelmed him. All he could hear, beyond his own screams, was Karl's smug, triumphant voice pretending to care about him and Drache's pleading voice. Then he felt himself shatter, and went gratefully into the waiting dark.

"I don't feel right," David said as they huddled in their latest snow cave, grateful for the fire provided by Sasha's magic.

"What do you mean?" Sasha asked, frowning in concern.

David shrugged. "Like something isn't right. Sort of like when a Sentinel freezes you with fear, but not as strong. But I've never felt a Sentinel before seeing it."

"As long as we've been traveling, we're probably close to another Great Sentinel," Sasha said, expression turning grim.

"How are you going to kill it?" David asked, because he still half-thought that dead Great Sentinel a dream.

"Dragons," Sasha said with a sigh. "Of all the gods, the Dragons of the Three Storms are the most powerful. They rule Kundou, but in some respects, they also rule the whole world. It's exhausting, but last time I hesitated to use them and nearly died. This time, I won't be that hesitant."

Curiosity about magic that was nothing like what he had seen the sorcerers use, about gods Schatten had been taught to revile, rose up too strongly for David to hold back. "Teufel said the other gods tried to destroy us, wanted what was good for them but bad for their children."

"That is not true," Sasha said softly. "Always, the gods have loved their children. Their decisions might have been poor, but their love was a constant. The problem was that we doubted it, and Licht played upon that doubt to achieve his own ends. He paid for his mistakes, but his shadow continues his work, creating a world controlled entirely by fate."

"I wonder how different Schatten will be when it's not like that anymore," David said.

Sasha smiled faintly and reached out to brush the back of his hand along David's cheek. Fighting his nervousness, still not quite believing that Sasha had any sort of interest in him at all, David moved closer and slid an arm around Sasha's waist, burrowing up against him. He rested his head against Sasha's shoulder, absolutely content with where he was, left alone together in a moment the rest of the world could not easily break.

Gloved fingers brushed his cheek and Sasha's lips grazed his brow. David wondered if they would ever have a chance to do all the things he'd barely ever let himself think about, but could not
stop
thinking about since he had met Sasha.

No doubt it was wrong to think about such things when there was a world to be saved, but he also knew he would have more luck if he tried to stop breathing. "Sasha …" He shifted slightly, looked up, and was elated when that got him the kiss he sought. Their lips were chapped from the cold, and they both longed to be clean, but Sasha's mouth was warm and tasted of tea.

When they broke apart, Sasha nuzzled against him in a way that David loved. Sasha was so quiet and intense when he was working or casting magic. Watching him work—just watching him move, or hold perfectly still in that calm, collected way that was so uniquely Sasha—was fascinating enough David could do it for hours.

But Sasha like this, sweet and soft, left him breathless. David reached up to stroke Sasha's cheek, which earned him another soft but ardent kiss.

"Do you think there's someone waiting for you?" he asked softly. "I always wonder how anyone could let you go into so much danger and not insist on going with you. I would never let you go off without me, not again."

Sasha sighed softly, the shadows in his eyes lengthening as they always did when he dwelled on his lack of memory. "I think that if I had someone, I would remember that. No spell would make me forget that I loved someone like that. Not to the point that I would feel it was all right to take up with someone else," he said softly, brushing his fingertips lightly over David's face. "There are a hundred reasons I should not attach myself to you, but I do not think that is not one of them."

"So what are they?" David asked, half-teasing, half-terrified. "I don't think you can come up with a hundred."

Mouth quirking with reluctant amusement, Sasha said, "Oh, I'm sure I could if I was given enough time to brood upon the matter."

"True," David agreed. "You spend too much time in your own head."

Surprise rippled across Sasha's face. "I suppose I do, though I never thought of it quite like that. I think …" He frowned thoughtfully. "I think more often I am accused of worrying too much, or trying to do everything myself, but no one has ever accused me of living too much in my own head."

"I think it's part of those other things," David said with a laugh, and he reached up to lightly touch Sasha's face again. "You go all still and stare at things no one else can see, and I'm right here, but I feel like you're a hundred miles away."

The emotions that crossed Sasha's face then David could not name. Sasha leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. "If anyone could reach out to me across a hundred miles, it's you, David."

David's reply caught in his throat, the words too heavy to get out. He settled for shifting and wrapping his arms around Sasha, the sudden movement sending them toppling to lie on the bedrolls they'd laid out on the ground to provide a barrier between them and the snow. Sasha let out a huff of laughter, but didn't say anything. He wrapped one arm around David's waist, threaded a hand through his hair with the other, and simply clung to him.

They shifted slightly, just enough to be relatively comfortable. Lulled by the fire and Sasha's warming, soothing presence, it was surprisingly easy to fall asleep.

He woke to the feel of lips brushing his cheek, the scrape of Sasha's beard since neither of them had been able to shave. "Morning already?" David asked groggily. "I really hate morning."

Sasha chuckled. "Perhaps someday I will have a chance to change your mind on that, though right now I tend to agree with you." He sighed and took down his hair, then tied it back again. David watched him, curious as to how different Sasha would look when he wasn't pretending to be from Schatten.

"How come your skin isn't different?" he asked suddenly.

"What?" Sasha stared at him, then said, "Oh," and shook his head, smiling ruefully. "I tried, but it just didn't look right on me. I looked stranger with it than with my normal skin, so I left it."

David tilted his head, curious. "I wish I knew how you really looked. I bet you're even more beautiful." He caught his own words too late and felt his face heat. But he didn't take the words back because they were true. Sasha was beautiful, and he would be all the more so when he looked like himself again.

"I'm old and faded," Sasha said with a smile. "If anyone in this hollow of snow is lovely, it's you. Now, enough of that. I prefer to save absurdly flowery words for a soft bed after I'm too spent to think of intelligent things to say. The sooner we save the world, the sooner we can find that bed." He winked, stole a quick kiss, then with a snap of his fingers, put out the magic fire.

Face still hot, though for entirely different reasons, David followed Sasha out into the snow once more. He was thoroughly sick of the snow, but simply pulled up his face mask and trudged on behind Sasha.

They hadn't been walking very long at all when they ran into a gatehouse and the long stretch of road they'd been seeking—or what was left of it, anyway. The famous roads to Sonnenstrahl had crumbled away over the years to practically nothing and did not extend past the gates for more than a couple dozen paces.

"Shouldn't it be here?" David whispered.

Sasha nodded and leaned in close enough to murmur in his ear. "Perhaps it had reason to go further afield. We'll head for the gatehouse first, that will give us some advantage. If it reappears, continue on for the gatehouse and stay well out of the way."

David nodded and pulled down his face mask to steal a quick kiss. He then followed Sasha as they continued along the wall headed toward the gatehouse, ever alert for the Great Sentinel. He looked over his shoulder at the gatehouse and realized that there was the barest bit of light coming from the barred viewing square near the top of the door. Turning back, he reached out and snagged Sasha's cloak, urging him to stop. When Sasha turned toward him, David pointed back at the gatehouse.

Sasha's brow shot up. He gestured with his head at David, who obediently stepped back and, when Sasha strode past him, fell into step behind him. David wished he could do more to help, but the only weapon he could use was a hunting knife and that was absolutely useless against a Great Sentinel.

They both froze when the gatehouse door abruptly swung open and a shadowy figure beckoned them inside. "Come in, please."

"Who …" David started to ask, but he trailed off as Sasha accepted the invitation. David hastened after him, and nearly wept when he was hit with a wall of unbelievable, marvelous warmth.

"Hang your things up here," the stranger said, his voice deep and warm, husky from disuse. David wiped snow from his face, then stiffly began to obey, not certain what else to do. He stripped off his cloak, jacket, and gloves and hung everything on a set of several hooks near the door. Raking hands through his hair to get the tangled, filthy mess out of his face, he finally turned to survey the room—and his jaw dropped to see how drastically it differed from the last gatehouse. That one had been a hovel; the one they stood in was very much a home.

As his face thawed, he could smell tea, fragrant meat, and roasting vegetables. Dried fruit stuffed with cloves and cinnamon hung from the ceiling alongside bundles of herbs. There was a bed in one corner, a curtained off corner for bathing, and an entire wall had been devoted to shelves piled with books. David stared at them with longing, then turned away, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat.

He focused on the source of the smells making his stomach growl:  the fire pit in the middle of the room, over which was arranged a cooking pot and a small spit where meat and vegetables still turned. By way of magic, he supposed, because it was turning, though no one was turning it. Strange, all the little things magic could do in the hands of someone like Sasha and their strange host.

He looked about Sasha's age, maybe a few years older, and his hair was a stunning bright gold. It fell to a little past his shoulders and had been woven into a rough braid and tied off with a brown leather thong. "Greetings," the man said. "It's been a long time since I've had guests. Would you like food, or to clean up first?"

"I would love to be clean," Sasha said. "I'm not sure I remember how that feels."

The man chuckled and gestured lazily toward the curtained off corner. "By all means. I prefer my rare guests be comfortable, and I do know what it's like to be filthy for days. Please, use whatever you need. I will add more food so there is plenty for all. Tea, wine, brandy?"

"Brandy?" Sasha echoed. "You have brandy?"

"Yes," the man said with another chuckle. "What are your names? I am Achim."

Sasha shook his head, laughing softly. "My apologies for my rudeness. I am Sasha and this is David."

Achim peered at Sasha curiously. "Sasha is not entirely unknown a name here, but it is a Pozharan name in origin. You're a fire child, despite your coloring."

"Yes," Sasha replied. "How do you know that? My name, or even my pale skin, is not enough to give that away."

Smiling sadly, Achim said, "Clean up, then we'll eat and talk."

Nodding, Sasha turned to David. "Would you like to go first, or shall I?"

"You," David said, still distracted by the books. "I don't mind waiting."

"There should be water aplenty, but I can heat more if necessary," Achim said.

Sasha stared at him a moment, frowning thoughtfully, but in the end only walked over to the curtain and slipped behind it. David stood uncertainly, then asked, "Is there anything I can do?"

"Not at all," Achim replied. "As I said, it's been a long time since I last had a guest. I enjoy having company to fuss over. Do you like the books? You may help yourself."

David felt hot and cold all at once, and he flinched slightly as he looked at the books sadly and said, "I don't know how to read. There's no use for it in Black Hill. Books belong to rich people in cities, not those of us in little villages."

"I think it's more that words are power," Achim said gently, and David jumped when a hand squeezed his shoulder. He hadn't even heard Achim move. Looking up, still mortified that he could not even write or recognize his own name when Sasha … He looked away again. "Shh," Achim soothed and tilted his chin up. "You've no reason to be ashamed, sunbeam. It is not for you to be upset you cannot read—be upset that Teufel took the chance from you." He smiled before slipping away to fuss and putter around the fire.

David retreated to the books, unable to resist reaching out to touch them, trail his fingers over the leather bindings and the gold lettering. He wished he knew what they said. Were they histories? Folktales? Books on medicine? Books about animals or plants? Perhaps books about magic?

He didn't know how long he stared at them, but he was immediately pulled from his wistful musings by the familiar sound of Sasha's footsteps. David turned as Sasha drew up alongside him, face burning again, mind pulled in two different directions:  admiring Sasha cleaned up and wanting to hide in embarrassment.