Chapter 31
Six Years Later
The door closes just in time.
Ethram turns as Ky comes into the hall. He brings the scent of the garden, sap-sharp and soil-rich.
“Visitors?” He’s damp from the rain, a basket on his arm full of bright rhubarb. He bends his head to kiss Ethram’s temple, and a tenseness runs right through him. “Ah. Casca.”
“Mm, the son,” says Ethram. He tips his face up to press a swift kiss to Ky’s mouth before he can straighten. “And an Ilyston from the university. A very unexpected visit.”
“But you made tea. They must have had something of worth to say.”
Ethram makes a so-so gesture as he follows Ky back to the kitchen. “Zanthi Ilyston is following in my footsteps, it seems. I’m curious to see what she uncovers.”
Visits from university colleagues are not uncommon, but he’s never had a student seek him out.
His reputation as a disagreeable recluse keeps them well away.
Still, Casca has grown into a charming, sharp-eyed man who is quick to smile, and Ilyston is a true curiosity, retiring but fierce and a far cry from that strange, haunted child lost in the archives.
The two of them make a strange pairing…but Ethram has seen stranger.
“You didn’t tell her anything?” Ky sets out the rhubarb beside the knife and block and gets to work.
“I don’t think I’d be able to, even if I wanted to. Even your name is hard to summon to mind some days, my love.”
“I have no fear you could ever forget me.” Ky looks up. His eyes shiver silver and then back. “We are bound, you and I.”
“Perhaps I am more concerned that people might remember you. What will you do if the Gardens resurrect their old rituals?”
“The forgotten ones? Is there a risk of that?”
“Casca told me he means to try. It seems they have found something.”
“He will be consecrated, or he will be dead.” He slices the ends of the rhubarb stalks. They bleed red against the wooden board. “Things might change, my heart, but that does not mean you will lose me. I am yours for all of time. Did I not make that clear enough?”
Ethram smiles. “You cannot blame me for fretting. I didn’t think I’d have to deal with another scholar hunting you out.”
“If she is searching for me, then she already knows me. She only needs to remember. And enough with the fretting. No matter what happens, you and I are here, where we are meant to be.”
“As long as you stay here,” Ethram mutters, picking up Ky’s discarded hat to hang it back on the peg.
The years since Ky’s battle with the strange beast have been quiet, soft ones.
Ethram has added gold to his robe with each autumn, and Ky has added to the garden with each spring.
His reclaimed power has bled into the earth and stone of the cottage, and Ethram has grown so used to the ever-present aether that he almost feels unmoored when he is about in Esk and away from it.
Sometimes, when he is close to the House, he senses the aether of the Well, and it feels like Ky, too. All that power waiting there for Ky to reclaim it, only Ethram knows Ky never will.
He may still be linked to the underworld, to the pathways of the dead, but he has entrenched himself here, in amongst the bookshelves and brambles. Exactly where he should be.
Ethram gathers the tea-things from the table.
He’d used the set that Ada had given him as a wedding present, but not out of any desire to be a gracious host. Mostly it was because he doesn’t like the idea of anyone else setting lips to Ky’s cup, and so he uses the fine teaware for visitors.
Honestly, Ada’s set gets more use than he’d like.
“A fully consecrated worshipper in the Gardens, though.” He runs the water, watching it catch the sunlight. “No matter what, that will mean changes for you.”
Ky makes a sound under his breath. “We shall see.”
“You do not wish to be at the heart of the revelry once more? Crowned in blossoms and followed by attendants and lovers and devoted believers?” He chances a smile and Ky sends him a suffering look.
“I have all the devotion I need right here,” Ky says. He tugs Ethram in close. “And if no one but you ever knew I existed, it would be enough.”
“That wouldn’t work,” Ethram says. “Mara still needs her fruit trees trimmed, and the Parl’s woodpile won’t chop itself. And what would Ada do without you to move her furniture every spring?”
“They would all manage, I suspect. You, however, would fade right away without me.”
“A fortune for me that you are here to keep me, then.”
“No,” Ky says, picking Ethram up to set him on the edge of the table. “It is a fortune for me.” And he kisses him until Ethram’s mouth is aching.
It’s a lovely sort of day, even if there have been visitors.
Thank you for reading!