Chapter III. Splintering
III
SPLINTERING
“IT TOOK A few nights for the cracks to really start showing among us. But we discovered the worst of them right away.
“I went to look for Argent after our run-in with the wretched, and soon found him in the shelter of a fungus-riddled oak, hooves stained black with blood. I gave him a hug of gratitude and he snuffled at my cheek, warm and welcoming; one more brother I could count on along this frozen road. Returning to my tower, I found my other brethren, hard at work in the rubble it’d been reduced to.
“Lachie’s collar was laced over his face, tricorn pulled low, and he’d fetched a pair of leather gloves to work with.
But the glow of his faith still burned in the roses at his temples, lighting the ruins an eerie silver.
Baptiste worked beside him despite his broken arm—the strength of the Dyvok blood he’d been thralled with yet lingering in his veins.
The pair worked swiftly clearing the wreckage, but it was Aaron who did the lion’s share, hefting broken chunks of masonry as large as a man and hurling them like pebbles.
“He was a sight to behold—golden locks and burning blue eyes, snow scattered like diamonds on alabaster skin. Aaron’s look had always been princely, but his Becoming had gifted him a bleaker beauty, flawless save for the scar down his bearded cheek, the Blackheart’s brand atop his left hand.
He’d cast aside his greatcoat, and I could see where the Dyvok had carved his aegis from his flesh, replacing silver with ash.
Beautiful designs of Naél, Angel of Bliss, and Sarai, Angel of Plagues, rippled down his arms. He’d the seeming of a god of old, carved in marble by masters’ hands.
But it was heartbreaking to see this brother of mine reborn of darkness.
And understanding what I did of the master he’d served, I couldn’t help but wonder.
“What darkness had been awakened in my old friend?
“The trio worked silently, clearing away the tower’s stones with barely a word between them.
Aaron’s eyes were narrowed in the glow of Lachie’s aegis, his back turned to the worst of it.
But he was still clearly pained in the presence of that silver light; a burning reminder of the thing he’d become. The things he’d done.
“‘Are you aright, love?’ Baptiste asked.
“‘Right enough,’ Aaron replied, tossing another chunk of masonry aside.
“‘Lachlan and I can clear the rest of this, there’s no need for you to hurt y—’
“‘I told you I’m fine,’ Aaron snapped. ‘Stop bleating like a damned maid, Baptiste.’
“The blackthumb fell silent, sullen, hefting a shattered wooden spar and dragging it away. I trudged up the rise, Argent beside me, my steed shying a little as Aaron lifted another slab of broken brickwork and sent it crashing into the deadwood below.
“‘Any luck?’
“‘Less than none.’ Aaron straightened, dragging a golden lock of hair from the corner of his mouth. ‘Are you certain it’s in here?’
“‘She,’ I corrected, setting to work. ‘And oui, I dropped her as I brawled those foulbloods. Ashdrinker’s under here somewhere.’
“Aaron surveyed our tiny mountain of broken stone and timber, shook his head. ‘Well, we might be here a while. I pray she’s worth it.’
“‘She’s the only blade of her kind under heaven, coldblood,’ Lachlan replied. ‘If we’ve a mind to slay the Forever King, damn right she’s worth it.’ Cold green eyes looked Aaron up and down. ‘A hell of a lot more than others I might mention.’
“‘Might mention. But don’t.’ Aaron’s cold gaze met Lachlan’s. ‘I wonder why that is?’
“‘My ma taught me if I’ve naught polite to say about someone, say nothin’ a’tall. So I’ve one-eighth of two-fifths of fuck all to say about ye, de Coste.’
“‘And I put so much stock in your opinion of me, á Craeg.’ Aaron studied his fingernails, scratching at an imaginary fleck. ‘Imagine my disappointment.’
“The pair stared each other down—vampire slayer and vampire—the air crackling with threat. I was about to step into the breach when Baptiste cleared his throat.
“‘You know, you never told us how you found her, Gabe. The Ashdrinker, I mean. We’ve heard the pub songs, of course. The barrowkings and riddle contests in the Everdark.’
“‘Fucking minstrels,’ I growled, hurling a stone aside.
“‘The one about Ainerión is my favorite, I think.’ The smith chuckled, turning to Aaron. ‘Remember that one, love? A Lion Among the Leaves? That soothsinger up from Beaufort sang it at the Wheelsday feast a few years back.’
“‘How could I forget? He was so out of tune I wanted to choke him on his lute strings.’
“‘Stealing the faequeen’s blade from beneath her pillow after you rumped her to exhaustion.’ Baptiste grinned. ‘You’ll have to give me some pointers, brother.’
“‘Ye honestly believe that twaddling gobshite?’ Lachie chuckled. ‘They’re all lies, ye dozy stooge. Yer ma drop ye once too often as a babe or—’
“‘Don’t speak to him that way, boy.’
“Lachlan glanced up as Aaron spoke, soft but deadly.
“‘Not ever.’
“‘Aaron,’ Baptiste began. ‘Lachlan was only jesting, there’s no h—’
“‘Don’t call me boy, leech,’ Lachlan growled, drawing himself taller. ‘Or I’ll kick yer arse harder than I did atop the walls of Maergenn. You remember that, aye? After ye slew half a dozen silversaints in cold blood at the beck of yer cunt master?’
“‘Squalling brat, you think I’d a choice?’
“‘Peace, messieurs…’ I warned.
“But Lachlan was having none of it, fangs glinting now as he snarled. ‘Ye’d free will enough to cast the Blackheart’s blade aside when he told ye to murder yer sweetie, here. But nae enough to stay yer hand from the throats of yer old brethren?’
“Aaron hurled the rock he’d been lifting aside with a crash. Lachie loosed his collar, his aegis flaring brighter. Baptiste put a hand on his love’s arm, but Aaron snatched it free, stepping closer to Lachlan despite the silvered ink now burning between them.
“‘Brethren? The so-called saints of San Michon cast me into the wilderness for who I loved! And you name them my brothers?’
“‘Ye were cast out for breaking yer holy oath, nae for who ye chose to break it with! They treated Gabe likesame, ye’ll nae hear him pissing and moaning about it! Ye slaughtered us by the dozen on those walls, de Coste. Good men died because y—’
“‘Aright, enough!’ I roared, stepping between them. ‘We’ve not traveled a fucking yard and I’m already regretting bringing you along! If you’ve a mind to snipe at each other this whole ride you can fuck off back to Maergenn, the pair of you!’
“Lachlan and Aaron glowered a moment longer, but in the glow of that silvered ink, the vampire was finally forced to look aside, eyes glazed with blood.
Snarling, he turned and stalked down the rubble, snatching up his greatcoat and slinging it over his shoulder.
With a heavy sigh, I made to follow him, but Baptiste took my arm.
“‘Let him go. He needs a breath to cool off.’
“‘Breath.’ Lachlan spat into the snow. ‘Like that stuck-up wanker even breathes.’
“‘I’m a gentle man by nature, Lachlan á Craeg,’ Baptiste said softly. ‘But speak ill of my love again, you’ll learn just how fierce a gentle flame can burn.’
“The pair looked at each other in the falling snow, the light on Lachlan’s skin slowly dimming as Aaron drifted into the dark. My old ’prentice slowly inclined his head.
“‘I bore witness to it aready, monsieur. When ye slew the Blackheart. And nae prouder could I be to have helped ye send my bastard brother to the hell he deserved.’ Lachlan dragged a hand through his hair, sighing.
‘I mean no disrespect. I give nae a drop of shite who a man beds. But I was raised to kill vampires, and yer man—’
“‘I understand,’ the blackthumb nodded. ‘But if I’ve the right of it, you were also raised among the Dyvok, Lachlan á Craeg. You must know something of the tortures Aaron suffered beneath Nikita’s boot. So I ask for your understanding in kind.’
“Baptiste offered his hand. A long, quiet moment passed, the wind whistling through the gulf between them. But with a grunt, Lachie finally shook it. ‘Fair enou’.’
“‘Right,’ I scowled. ‘Now we’ve kissed and made up, can we get back to digging? I’d like to find my sword before the fucking rivers thaw.’
“Lachie smirked at Baptiste. ‘Was he this surly back when ye knew him?’
“‘Think he’s actually mellowing in his dotage.’
“‘Fuck off, the pair of you,’ I growled.
“We set back to it, tossing broken stone and timber aside. I was grateful for the aid—it’d have taken hours to dig through that mess by myself. But working with Lachie and Baptiste, I was reminded of the chief reason I’d aimed to hunt the Forever King alone.
“I could smell it on the night wind now, beneath the sweat rising on our skin, the dressing on Baptiste’s broken arm. Working its way down my throat, stabbing like a rusted knife into my belly. The scent, the ache, the need of it.
“Blood.
“I couldn’t forget the last time I’d drunk it.
Standing before the walls of Maergenn, my fangs puncturing the wrist Phoebe had offered.
Feeling that heat, that blessed bloody life flowing through me.
The memory had me aching; soft sorrow for the moments Phoebe and I had shared, at what had grown between us before it was torn out by the root.
“I wondered if I should’ve told her good-bye. There’d been something between us, that much I knew from the bleed in my chest when I pictured her fighting at my side through the hell of Maergenn. Thorn and bramble. Blood and scars.”
“You were afraid.”
Gabriel glanced up, sharp eyes fixing the historian opposite.
“Of falling for another,” Jean-Francois said, dipping his quill. “Difficult to blame you, I suppose. You put your Astrid on such a pedestal, what breathing woman could compare?”
“Know me so well, do you?”
A smile tugged at the corner of ruby lips. “Not as well as I’d like.”