Chapter 16
sixteen
L ynck tightened the bow, readying to play. Rox had come in every night he was closing and sat at the piano. Sometimes, he’d start a song and then stop as if continuing was too much. After, they’d go for a walk by the lake and eat the leftovers that couldn’t be sold the next day. While he wanted to run and swim and do other kelpie things with his human boyfriend, what they had worked for them.
But he was nervous about playing for Rox.
He definitely hadn’t been constructing their mating song, creating new measures with each passing day. And he was not playing that song today.
Because it didn’t exist.
The more times he said it, the faster the lie was going to wear through.
Today Rox had done his usual thing of playing a few scales and then thumbing through a music book, selecting a song and then stopping before repeating.
“Have you considered buying some new music?” Lynck asked as he pulled over a chair and sat near Rox.
Rox nodded. “I have…I’ve even looked at a few online. I’m not quite there yet.” He smiled and glanced at the violin. “I’m excited to hear you play.”
“I re-tuned it to kelpie style, so the notes will sound a little odd, but I thought you’d like something more traditional.” And he was not going to play the tune forming in his heart, growing every time he saw Rox, even though he was sure Rox would join in and add to the melody.
He wasn’t ready to share. Before he did that, he needed the damn bridle removed.
It had to be possible. Since telling Rox about it, he’d tried again, pulling at the chain and then trying to cut through it with scissors. He’d thought about asking Thursten to use his ax, but that meant explaining what the chain was, and that meant revealing too many secrets. It had been hard enough to tell Rox.
Rox leaned forward, eyes bright. “I’d love to hear some kelpie music.”
Lynck smiled. He’d practiced at home because he hadn’t played some of them for so long. He hadn’t been sure what to play at first. A jaunty party tune? A funeral lament? While both were pretty, they weren’t what he wanted to share. “It’s a work song, something that was sung while farming or weaving or making a meal.”
“So shared with others?”
“Yes, while there are some lyrics, new verses are made up on the spot, poking fun at the job or recounting recent gossip.”
“Music was a big part of your life.”
It wasn’t only the music he missed; it was the community, the way others joined the song. “It is a big part of herd life.” He drew in a breath, understanding how hard it was to play the songs that held so much meaning beyond their notes. But if he didn’t share them, he’d never hear them again. “I won’t be singing.”
He lifted the violin and ran the bow over the strings to make sure he was happy with the sound. Then he launched into the song. It wasn’t complex and could go on forever, but every player added their own embellishments. It was the first song a child learned as they sat at the hooves of their parents.
Rox tilted his head, no doubt because the notes sounded off to him, the same way human music had to him at first. Not out of tune, but enough that his ears had tried to find the real notes. He saw the same puzzlement on Rox’s face.
In his mind, he heard the voice of his family singing as they worked, laughing and encouraging as people tried to make a verse—not everyone excelled at coming up with something in the moment.
He played the chorus a final time and added a flourish to signify the end.
Rox clapped. “That did sound weird at first, but once I stopped trying to figure out why, I got it. It’s kind of fun.”
“It is meant to take the tedium out of some tasks.”
“I’ll be humming that while I do laundry.”
Lynck laughed. “Yes. Though you aren’t hand scrubbing by the river.”
“Your herd sounds lovely, and then you say something like that, and I feel blessed to have access to washing machines.”
“And grocery stores.” Because farming and fishing, while he missed the freshness and the activity, were also tiresome. And if no fish were caught, then dinner was a little slimmer.
“True. I wouldn’t know how to find dinner if my life depended on it.”
“When you grow up hunting your own dinner, you don’t think anything of it. It is just a part of life, and you don’t know any different.” He’d only been beyond his village a few times—to visit other herds and also to a town for trade once—before being captured. But those glimpses had revealed a much bigger world that he’d wanted to explore.
At first, he’d thought that wanderlust was to blame for his capture, that somehow it had marked him out.
“What is your world like?” Rox asked.
“Parts of it are beautiful, and others are stark. Much like your world. But unlike your world, where there are only humans, there were many kinds of monsters. Some lived with only their kind, the way kelpies tend to, and others lived in towns teeming with all kinds.”
“Monster towns.”
“And castles, and aquatic monsters, and those who live in forests away from everyone, and some who lived high in the mountains.”
“It sounds amazing.”
“If I could take you, I would. I’d bring you home to meet my family.”
Rox’s eyebrows drew together, and Lynck saw the words forming on his tongue. He was going to ask about the bridle.
“Is it dangerous for a human to go through the portal?”
Lynck blinked, not expecting that question, and he didn’t have an answer ready. “It’s my understanding that humans can go through, though I do not advise going alone, as it may be dangerous.”
Rox lifted an eyebrow.
The only thing stopping Lynck from taking Rox home to meet the family was the bridle.
“Would you want to stay there if it was possible?” Rox pressed.
Lynck was silent for a heartbeat. Going home was a dream, not a reality. “No. Even with the bridle removed, he might learn I have returned and hunt me down. He may take his revenge on my tribe. No one defies Bothvar and lives.” He lowered his gaze to Rox’s beat-up runners. “I talk of going home, but it’s never going to happen.”
He shouldn’t make promises that he couldn’t keep.
“It’s okay. I don’t want to go through the portal without you.” He put his hand on Lynck’s knee. “And it’s not like I can take you to meet Mom.”
Lynck snorted and glanced up. “I can only live in monster-approved towns.”
If Rox decided he wanted to travel again, Lynck couldn’t follow.
“I know. I did some reading. I’m not going anywhere. We can be stuck here together.” Rox grinned as though that was the solution.
While there was no one else he wanted to be stuck with, it wasn’t the same as being free to offer his heart. He swallowed as nerves got the better of him. “Can you try to remove the bridle?”
“I’ll do more than try.”