10. Chapter Nine
10
William
T he group gazed at a cavernous gorge stretching far and wide. Trees dared not tread closer, creating a wide berth for the deep wound. Nicholas stood along the edge where brittle rock fumbled into the abyss from the brush of wind. The fae peered into the shadows with little care. William wouldn’t dare. Even from where he and Charmaine huddled beneath the trees, he heard it; whispers, voices in the gloom, hundreds or thousands speaking at once, urging him closer.
“This would explain not being discovered by any of our scouts yet,” William muttered.
Charmaine stepped forward. He clutched her shoulder. “You’re hurting me,” she growled.
“Sorry. Don’t look upon it.”
“I don’t know if that helps.”
“I can’t fathom what is down there,” said Arden from where he also peeked over the lip.
“Nothing good, and everything fun.” Nicholas skipped along the edge. “No doubt a creation of Fearworn or his shadowed disciples for reasons I would love to learn.”
He retreated with two hopped steps. His gaze scanned the horizon. Arden walked in the opposite direction. Arden’s voice carried over the falling snow moments later. “I don’t see the end of it this way!”
“Neither do I,” Nicholas responded. He faced the gorge, one hand under his chin. The cavern spanned fifty feet wide. “We’ll go across. A bridge is easy enough to build.”
William didn’t want to cross the gorge, but over would be quicker than around. He wanted away from this place, far from the gloom transforming the snow into oiled sludge.
Nicholas stood close to the fall, hands outstretched. The forest responded. Roots tangled together, stretching over the gorge. Unlike mages and other fae, Nicholas commanded an arsenal of elements and abilities. The abilities of a shade were limitless, surpassing any other. Nicholas’ power was unnatural, yet helpful, tainted, yet beautiful, captivating and perplexing. But then that beauty shuttered.
The rose light under Nicholas’ skin brightened. The roots hovering over the gorge struggled. They contorted up and out and down. He swung his arm to command the forest, attempting to steady the structure with new roots, but they became a mess of entanglement. The gloom of the gorge shifted upward with shadowed hands. Nicholas retreated, bewildered by the roots disappearing into obscurity. The roots along the mouth of the cavern broke, the shadows fell, and the bridge disappeared below.
“Fascinating,” Nicholas muttered, intrigued.
“Walking it is,” said William.
He nudged Charmaine to the right, and they walked on. Nicholas and Arden followed, whispering to one another. Childish glee flickered in their eyes, attention pointed toward the gorge that kept their attention for a long while.
The four of them remained within the trees, keeping the gorge along their left flank. Though at some point, Nicholas broke off from the group, claiming he’d search for food. William didn’t believe that, but Nicholas’ momentary irritation made ignoring the whispers from the gorge easier. With his absence, William and Charmaine spoke to one another about random events to placate the voices ringing in their skulls.
She told him a story about her childhood where her cat went missing. She and her mother searched all day. They never told her father. He wasn’t a kind man and not interested in pets in the least. Turns out the little rascal was sleeping in her closet and came out for dinner that evening as if none of their panic had transpired. King, she called him, because he was more haughty than one.
William spoke of himself and his brothers building a massive snow fort in their yard after a terrible blizzard. They were snowed in, but the boys loved every moment. They spent the whole day outside and came down with a cold the next morning. These memories kept them from stumbling toward the gorge that would swallow them in a breath if they let it.
Then Nicholas appeared out of nowhere, practically dancing around them when he asked, “Is this not utterly fascinating?”
“Don’t surprise us like that,” Charmaine barked. Even her irritation had risen after the long trek. “And where is the food?”
“I found none. The Deadlands are as decrepit as their namesake, yet filled with mystery. This gorge, the monsters, and moving trees in the forest.”
“Could you do us a single favor and make sense for once?”
“I am speaking sense. There were living trees. A grove of them tried to smother me with their roots. Once I got free, they shuffled off in the other direction. They reminded me of a time during my childhood when I became lost in the Forest of Whispers. An intriguing place in Faerie, known for random disappearances. For months at a time, the forest welcomes all under the apple trees and within the fields of wheat. Then one day the forest wakes up, overtaken by an eerie fog and decay. Nothing lives.”
William groaned. “You walked right into it, didn’t you?”
“Of course, I was intrigued! None know how the Forest of Whispers works, when the change will come, or how the trees determine what souls to take or return.”
“I will regret asking this,” said Charmaine. “But how did you survive?”
“A combination of tree bark, roots, bugs, and decaying apples for three long months,” Nicholas declared far too proudly for someone spouting a story of stupidity. “But when the forest shifted, and I saw vibrant apples on the limbs once more, I escaped and learned I had been gone for only two days.”
Charmaine and William shared confused glances that coaxed laughter from their fae companions.
“Time is a fickle thing in Faerie,” Arden said, nodding as if he had a tale or two to tell of time.
“I do miss our lands,” Nicholas sighed, exaggerated and dreamy. “Faerie lives and breathes, unlike your barren wasteland. Day after day, you see the same thing, but in Faerie you may fall asleep in a field of green and awaken along a sandy beach. You never know what tomorrow holds.”
“Yes, how riveting to be in unknown lands.” William glanced about at the unknown lands he wanted to run away from. “How about we refrain from going anywhere alone from now on? We don’t need anyone being devoured by a tree.”
“Oh, but it has made me wonder what it would be like to be devoured by a tree.” Nicholas danced around them, boyish as boyish can be. “Do they have stomachs? Would I be digested, buried, spat out as old bark, or become a tree myself? Would I know I was a tree and miss my fingers and toes?”
“Are you incapable of taking any situation seriously?” William snapped. “We’re exhausted, cold, and hungry, and here you are skipping.”
“Skipping doesn’t equate to treating the situation flippantly. I went out in search of food. There’s simply nothing here.”
“We’d still have those spion legs if you weren’t insistent on viewing a carcass.”
“That carcass was invaluable. We have information to give our military.” Nicholas walked backward in front of them, smirking. William hated how he found the expression charming. “You are exceedingly crabby today.”
“Because we’re fucking hungry,” Charmaine snarled. “William and I must eat. You may survive weeks without food, but we cannot.”
Nicholas shrugged. “It’s not my fault mortals are so frail.”
“I’m consistently reminded of how regretful I am to have prevented you from abandoning us,” William said. A headache formed in his temples.
“You wouldn’t last a day without us.”
“Remind me who saved your ass against that first beast and healed you.” Though neither of them needed to think about how William would have killed him if the others hadn’t arrived.
Nicholas held up a single finger and swung it from side to side. “Keep this up and I won’t share what I found.”
“You said you didn’t find food.”
“I didn’t.”
“If it isn’t food, we do not care.”
“Oh, I think you will.” Nicholas scurried toward the forest, gesturing for them to follow. Arden did so without question. Charmaine and William hesitated. This was backtracking and there was no telling how far Nicholas wanted them to backtrack for whatever he found. Charmaine and William shared a discomforted sigh, then shuffled through the shaded woods.
Nicholas kept a slow pace, for once. They walked for a short time, then William caught sight of steam filtering through the pines. When those trees parted, they stood along the shore of water; a hot spring. The foggy blue water trickled down from layers of rocks into a large pond surrounded by lush plant life, the first any of them had seen. Little ferns sprouted between rocks. Moss curved over their surface and a patch of grass dared to grow at the bottom of the rockface.
“This is quite wonderful,” Charmaine whispered, taking a deep breath. The moment William did, too, a sense of ease washed over him. Walking away from the gorge did wonders, and the hot spring promised much more. Even the rocks beneath their feet warmed him through the soles of his ruined boots.
“We’ll take tu—” Nicholas’ gleeful shout and a splash interrupted William.
The tepid water splattered against them. Charmaine laughed. William stood there, grimacing when Nicholas’ head broke the surface. He slicked back his mane of midnight hair, showing off a toothy grin that would convince many to make questionable decisions, to decide a night of debauchery would be worth whatever happened come morning.
“Come along. We’re all disgusting. At least we won’t stink each other to death,” Nicholas proclaimed, laughing when Arden jumped in, nude.
William’s gaze swept to their left, discovering Nicholas’ clothes lay forgotten, too. When Nicholas stood, the water reached above his narrow hips. William ignored his quick breath of disappointment.
“I’d rather take turns,” he grumbled, forcing disinterest in his voice.
“Aw, are the mortals nervous? Shy?” Arden snickered, then lowered, so the water reached his chin. “Fear not. All mortals are lacking in some form or the other. You will be no different.”
“Your poor attempts at comfort are unnecessary,” Charmaine muttered. She looked down, staring at her feet for a long moment.
Charmaine told William once that every time she undressed, she tried not to look at herself. The body she had didn’t feel right. Military uniforms didn’t help with that. The most William could do to ease her was helping her shave, which both of them needed right about now. William’s facial hair had a mind of its own, sprouting in patches unlike his father, who wore a beard from the age of sixteen—so he claimed.
Taking a long breath, Charmaine flexed her fingers and whispered, “I would love a bath, a hot one, and for all we know, these two will curse the water to freeze while they’re out and we’re in there. Better to share the bath now.”
With that, Charmaine let go to undress. She swiftly fell into the water, releasing a relaxed sigh that William was unbearably envious of. He wanted to bathe. He rarely cared about being naked around strangers. The military made sure of that, but he thought of the many scars along his back. He had plenty more but those; they were different. And Nicholas kept a firm stare on him, taunting without words, mere moments from making a curt remark.
“Come on, get in.” Charmaine tugged at the hem of his pant leg. “You’ll feel better. I already do.”
If William remained out of the water, Nicholas would prod at him with eyes and words. At least in the hot spring, he’d be soothed. Releasing a reluctant sigh, he undressed, not missing Nicholas’ attention, the same kind he gave back in the village, one of an insatiable appetite. He would have liked the attention, the desire in those roseate eyes, the way Nicholas licked his lips, if the fae wasn’t an abhorrent jackass, of course.
Sinking into the water, the hot spring eased the tension from William’s muscles. As if he had been breathing in smoke for years and this is the first time he tasted genuine air. He lounged along the lip, arms outstretched and body submerged to his neck.
Even when the troops passed cities, they didn’t bathe like this. The last hot bath of pure comfort happened before recruitment, at home. He tried to recall the scent of lilac from the petals drifting atop the water, then thought of shampoo in his hair, soap in his hands, stepping out cleaned and refreshed. His clothes waiting by the door, a soft bed in the room beyond, snacks in the pantry, and his family laughing at the dinner table. Those memories felt so far away, another lifetime for another person.
Once he enlisted, the men had to take mostly cold showers among one another, never a moment of privacy, though he didn’t have privacy here either. The hair on the back of his neck stood, sensing Nicholas’ gaze. He caught those greedy eyes seizing him. He hated how the attention made his heart skip and a beat of pleasure plunge to his waist to nestle like a treacherous snake ready to strike.
“This would be perfect if we had a delectable steak and a good brandy,” Charmaine hummed. She leaned out of the hot spring to grab the knife from her belt, apparently thinking the same William had earlier. She gestured for him to step closer, and he held up his chin.
“Brandy?” William chuckled. “Have you ever tried such a thing?”
Charmaine’s tongue stuck out the side of her mouth while she rid William of his worthless stubble as best she could. “No, but I hear it’s fancy, and this feels fancy, which sounds unbearably sad spoken out loud.”
“It does, but what I find sadder is I don’t know if I remember what steak tastes like.”
Charmaine groaned, and based on her pursed lips, she didn’t remember, either.
“Your owners don’t feed you so well, do they?” Arden asked across the spring, where he ran thin fingers through his hair.
Finished, Charmaine ran the knife through the water. “Owners?”
“The kings that own you.”
“They don’t own us.”
“Perhaps not on paper, but you are owned. They ordered you here, did they not?”
“And what of you?” William countered while working on Charmaine. “Did your fae lords not send you?”
The bridge of Arden’s nose wrinkled. “Of course not. I volunteered.”
“Most fae volunteered,” Nicholas explained. “If there is one compliment I can give mortals, it is their destructive and rapacious capacity for war. An invention no fae had thought of. Mortals know cruelty in ways we never fathomed, and most of us wanted a piece.”
Neither Charmaine nor William spoke against Nicholas’ claim, because there was nothing to argue. Humans spoke of war like fairytales with epic heroes and happy endings. Those who knew of war and violence didn’t wish to speak of the matter at all. No one longed for peace more than a war-torn soul, and no one wanted war like one who had never experienced hardship.
“If you did not fight as one before, how did Faerie battle against Fearworn?” Charmaine asked. “He is from Faerie, after all.”
“We fought him on our own,” Arden answered flatly. “We fend for ourselves.”
“But Fearworn got out of control. Many fae pledged an oath to him in exchange for leeching off his power, and with all of them at his back, he nearly ruined Faerie,” said William darkly. “To think, if you fought together, maybe we wouldn’t be here.”
“What a pity that would have been. My first battle here was glorious. The rush.”
“The utter chaos,” Nicholas whispered, as if reliving his fondest memories. Then his eyes swept over William, a taunting grin staining his expression. “There is very little that compares to a perfect slaughter.”
Charmaine gagged before splashing her shaven face with more water. “I shouldn’t have asked anything.”
“That encourages me to share more,” Arden declared, and Charmaine sank when the fae spoke of his battles in order of his least favorite to most adored with extreme detail.
William set the knife aside and stopped listening. Even if he were interested, it was hard to concentrate when one particular pointy-eared dreg kept staring. Nicholas didn’t bother hiding his interest. The hunger didn’t sleep, choosing to howl within his monstrous eyes.
Rather than lounge there under the intensity of his attention, William swam toward the rock face. The hot spring drifted into a cavern lit by peculiar rocks embedded in the ceiling. They released a low green glow. He hovered a hand near one, testing if they were rocks or a variety of bug that, knowing the Deadlands, would come to life and devour him. He pressed a finger to the stone, surprised by their warmth.
The water rippled behind him. He passed a cursory stare over his shoulder. Nicholas stepped into the dim light. William hoped the fae would have remained behind to embellish Arden’s story or relish in Charmaine’s disgusted expressions. Apparently, William was of more interest than even he surmised. A warped thrill echoed through his limbs at the thought.
He refused to let his eyes stay on Nicholas for longer than a moment. The fae would enjoy the attention too much. He would rather not admit to anyone, especially himself, about how much he enjoyed the view. Out here, it was rare to enjoy anything. Blood and festered wounds kept his eyes company more days than not. He grew weak to temptation, to seeing something else, something beautiful and enchanting, albeit vicious and deadly.
“Am I not allowed a moment of peace?” William asked, holding his breath when Nicholas set a long nail against his back.
“These scars.” Nicholas pressed a finger against his skin and followed one scar from his shoulder to mid back. “Who did this to you?”
“Not who, what. Years of war have left me scarred.”
“Fae cannot lie, so we find it most frustrating when others do.”
“I am not lying.”
“You aren’t telling the full truth.”
William caught water in his cupped hands to run over his cooled skin. The steam of the hot spring battled against the winter air, though not enough to prevent his body from breaking out with goosebumps. That was what he would tell Nicholas if he dared to suspect otherwise. Wouldn’t want him knowing that the gentle touch of his finger tracing every mark made William feel anything other than disgust.
“I see no reason to tell you,” William said.
“We’re travel companions,” Nicholas countered with a smidge of humor in his voice.
“Not good or trustworthy ones.”
“We could be better if we got to know each other.” Nicholas’ greedy hand settled on William’s waist, holding tight enough to bruise.
“I doubt talking is the way you want to get to know me. Actually, I imagine you want to get to know the insides of my intestines.”
“That has always been on the list, although I admit it may no longer be at the top.”
“Oh, then what is?”
“You’re observant enough to guess.” Nicholas’ heated breath tickled the nape of his neck.
William almost leaned into him, cursing himself for thinking with the wrong head. As troublesome as the last couple days have been, as rattled as he became over the years, laying with a fae, no matter how ethereal, would solve nothing.
Nicholas had beauty and strength that would likely lead to a more than satisfying encounter, but he also had a sharp tongue, violent and corrosive, destructive and daunting. He promised danger. And yet, Nicholas’ fervor chilled the spring. His fire was unrivaled, seeping into William’s bones that ached for the forbidden. For a rush of something new and treacherous. For a moment of overwhelming bliss where the world faded away and only pleasure remained. To grow numb and forget, to pretend the world outside didn’t exist, that nothing bad had ever happened.
“Your file revealed you were in the infirmary often during your first year, although there was little information on your injuries,” Nicholas continued, thus making William’s teeth grind. “And these scars, in particular, are not new.”
“My recruitment years were not kind to me,” he admitted. The lock welded tight at the back of his mind prevented the horrors from unleashing, but sometimes in the night, one or two slipped through the seams. They tried to do so now.
“I’m shocked you let anyone lay their hands on you.”
“I was a boy then. He hadn’t learned to survive yet.”
“But he knows now. He’s exceedingly good at it, in fact.” Nicholas swept an arm around him, lower on his waist than before. The fae’s fingers spread over his thigh, a thumb caressing the skin. The other hand dipped into the water to run it up William’s arm, slow and careful, continuing to test his quivering boundaries.
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” William declared.
“And where am I trying to get?”
“Between my legs, I imagine.”
Nicholas chuckled. His lips pressed a possessive kiss to William’s shoulder. “What will get me between your legs?”
A curse of stupidity. Curiosity. Boredom. Self-loathing. War eating away every piece of sense William could ever have. A combination of it all.
But when he glanced over his shoulder and glimpsed those pointed fangs, the long-tipped ears, and unnatural eyes, a raging ire swept over him. The one that always came when he least expected it. That forever boiled along the edge of his mind, waiting for that moment to erupt. It did so now, first resentment at Nicholas, then at himself for daring to crave a moment. He loathed fae. Far more than monsters and war and kings and make believe deities. Fae ruined the one light he found among the shadows. Hugh could have been his everything, and they stole that.
Setting his hands on Nicholas’ arms, William shoved him away, needing to escape, to find a rock and beat some sense into himself. Charmaine was right. He needed rest. He needed to get away.
He surged around Nicholas. A hand snatched his bicep, but whatever Nicholas had to say evaporated when William snarled, vicious as a wounded animal, “Do you wish to know where the men who touched me last without my consent are?”
Nicholas’ hold loosened. “Where?”
“Buried.” He saw blood in the water spilling from his hands, fire and ash, buildings crumbling beneath monstrous hands, and terror peering back at him. His heart raced, and he refused to accept why.
“Did you put them there?”
“They died in battle. A terrible tragedy.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” When William said nothing, Nicholas laughed. “What a wicked little thing you are.”
William ripped his arm free and stormed out of the cave. The comfort of the hot spring vanished in the face of Hugh’s memory. His soothing eyes, loud laughter, and his honesty, “I have neither titles nor money, but I will give you my heart, William Vandervult. From this day until my last day, I am yours.”
He seized a strangled breath, struggling to bury those memories in the vault of his mind where they belonged. Wounds like that didn’t heal. They scarred and bled the moment anyone prodded at them. Nicholas hadn’t meant to scratch. How could he have known? But it bothered William, nonetheless.
He fell into the water, hoping submerging himself in true warmth would beat back the cold. It did not. When he resurfaced, he glimpsed Charmaine and Arden near the mouth of the hot spring, speaking animatedly to one another. A strange scene that worried him until Charmaine pivoted, holding an animal carcass.
“Look what we caught in the water,” she exclaimed. “Food! Potentially?”
“You are welcome to try,” said Arden.
“I caught the first one,” Charmaine argued and shoved an eel-like creature in Arden’s hands. “You try it.”
William shuffled over to them, ignoring the slosh of water at his back and the fae who caused it. Four creatures lay along the edge, each as long as his arm. They had a fair amount of meat, based on Arden cutting one open.
After cooking the creature, Arden gave it a bite and determined the eel-things to be edible. Dressed and cleaned, they sat around a fire and filled their stomachs. That should have made William feel better, but then he caught Nicholas’ attention. Those eyes remained on him, a curious light now gleaming. He ensured not to speak to Nicholas for the rest of the evening.