Chapter 20
With so much on his mind and a lone skeleton left in the castle to complete chores, Drexley had little time to examine his thoughts.
Except the ones about Ducarius. Those he dwelled on constantly.
Too often, Drexley found himself with a book on his lap, but the words blurred because he was far too interested in reliving sweet kisses or conversations with his mate.
Even now, Drexley was seated in the library with Adney nearby and ignoring the tome on his lap.
Adney was also supposed to be reading, but the necromancer was doing more muttering and hastily flipping pages than absorbing information.
As for Ducarius, he was on what now served as the roof of the castle training because most of the ground had disappeared.
There were no loud crashes to signal the land breaking away.
From what Drexley understood of magic, Adney’s shrinking well was now causing things to poof out of existence too.
If that were not enough to terrify Drexley, the necromancer had taken his first ever nap that morning after breakfast. Adney no longer had the energy to stay awake all day.
Despite Drexley’s best efforts to wish Adney’s death away, it was marching ever closer.
Drexley hated to think about the future, but it was growing harder to ignore.
What would he do without Adney? With his poor memory, would Drexley someday forget the man who had molded him into an educated scholar?
Terror plagued Drexley, and he swore his heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the thought of lighting Adney’s funeral pyre.
Drexley bit his lip, and a tear slid down his cheek.
The past few centuries had been idyllic thanks to Adney’s tutelage.
Although Drexley could not recall the early days of their relationship, he was reminded often of how he had left behind the remnants of the primitive spell that had created him.
Adney had somehow looked at him and seen his potential.
They had become more than expert and pupil—they were a family.
Drexley wiped the moisture from his face and realized the room had quieted.
A quick glance at Adney told him the necromancer had drifted off in his chair.
Two naps in a single day and they had not even had their supper meal yet.
How long had Adney been fighting against his growing exhaustion?
The library door opened, and Drexley’s damp gaze met Ducarius’s. Compassion was immediately stamped on Ducarius’s face, and he held out his arms. Setting aside the book he wasn’t reading, Drexley rose, but instead of accepting Ducarius’s hug, he took his hand and led him out of the library.
“Adney is resting,” Drexley explained as he pulled the door closed to avoid waking Adney.
“Come here,” Ducarius ordered as he tugged Drexley close.
Grateful for the comfort, Drexley pressed as close as he could manage to his mate.
“Are you weeping because he is exhausted again?” Ducarius asked softly.
Drexley clutched Ducarius’s shirt and shrugged. “That is part of it, I suppose. Death is creeping closer. I hate the thought of living without him.”
“I know. I am sorry.”
“More than that, I dislike his pain and wonder how long he has fought against the exhaustion overwhelming him today. Why does he insist on pushing himself so hard? There is no need for him to suffer unduly. If he must endure this, then I want it to be as easy as possible. Though I suppose there is no simple road to dying slowly.”
“Since it stresses you, I will avoid pointing out that the path he has chosen is adding a layer of unnecessary difficulty, and I worry that he will suffer injuries due to his stubbornness. We cannot heal him, Drexley. There are thousands of books in that library, but none of them will give us mending magic.”
“Necromancers use dark magic; healing is of a light or neutral nature. It would pain him if we had those skills.”
“Not entirely true any longer. There is a tiny population of two who are dark menders, but such knowledge is useless to us right now.”
“Dark menders?” Drexley asked, his eyes meeting Ducarius’s as once again the other sentinel defied everything he had studied in Adney’s library. “The more I learn, the less I realize I know. What use is my education if everything I have learned is no longer relevant?”
Ducarius rubbed his chin and kissed him gently. “You enjoy reading, and I have given you the perfect excuse to spend the next several decades burying yourself in books to update your knowledge. When you are finished and caught up to the modern day, you may thank me.”
“Do not make me smile, I am in no mood for it.”
“Yet your lips are already curved upward,” Ducarius responded with a grin of his own.
“That is because you are annoyingly irresistible.”
“I apologize; I will work on being loathsome so you can frown and find no moments of joy as you face the hardest days of your life.”
“What if I lack the strength to handle everything I must face?”
“That is as likely as me marching you up to the top of this crumbling castle and pushing you off of it.”
“Why does that immediately spring to mind?” Drexley asked with a chuckle. “Have you already imagined doing that to me in the past?”
“I cannot lie, so I must answer yes.”
“To think I have thanked Fate for you.”
“Yes, well, you are stubborn, and it is irritating.”
“According to what I have read, Fate looked into your soul and mine. Something inside of us told her we were a perfect pair. So, I am stubborn because that fits you. Maybe it is because you are also tenacious.”
“Thank you for describing me as tenacious; it is a better word than stubborn, which is what you remain.”
“What did you call me last night? Ah, yes. Hateful man. That fits you right now. Also, stop distracting me. I want to wallow.”
“Fine. I was about to kiss you senseless, but instead I will push you away and go find something to entertain myself. I have another damn romance novel to finish today.”
Threading his fingers through Ducarius’s untidy hair, Drexley smiled. “I have decided wallowing can wait.”
“Good, I like the way you taste.”
Drexley had no hope of replying as his mouth was suddenly far too busy for conversation.
∞∞∞
Ducarius ate methodically and said nothing as his two dinner companions conversed. With a frown, Ducarius decided it was not, in fact, a conversation. Adney was grouchily and tirelessly rattling out an exhaustive list of complaints while Drexley did his best to soothe the crotchety necromancer.
It pissed Ducarius off to listen to anyone treat his mate so callously, but if he intervened, he was likely to get flak from both men.
Drexley was quick to champion Adney’s right to act however he wanted in his realm, and the necromancer made it clear he had no use for Ducarius. The feeling was mutual.
Drexley was blissfully unaware that his memory was being stripped, and Ducarius had grave concerns about how the sentinel had been molded into a devoted scholar.
Although Chander had freed the sentinels, centuries had passed where Drexley would have been at the mercy of whatever order Adney threw out.
And now Drexley had no recollection of those days.
There was no driving need to reveal to Drexley how Adney was manipulating him.
The atmosphere at the castle was grim, and Drexley was coping as best he could with the imminent demise of his lone family member.
But the truth would not stay hidden forever.
Once Ducarius was finally able to whisk his other half to safety and help heal his heart with the aid of the Darays, Drexley would regain those years.
It would not be easy for Drexley, and Ducarius resented everything awaiting the other sentinel in the future.
Drexley would have to pick up the pieces without ever having the chance to confront Adney unless he shadow walked and tracked the man down.
The necromancer would not be explaining his motivation while alive, and Ducarius had his doubts his death would change shit.
So, they would probably never know what had driven Adney to trap Drexley in a realm and control him.
Ducarius opted not to waste any brainpower delving into Adney’s state of mind.
Too many necromancers were assholes, and that was just as likely an excuse as any other.
At least Drexley would never again be in a similar situation.
Ducarius almost hoped someone would try so they could taste the cold bite of his dagger against their throat as his poisoned blade painfully killed them.
Drexley glanced over, and his gaze widened at whatever expression Ducarius wore. To reassure his other half, Ducarius offered him a toothy grin. It did not work. Suspicion filled his lovely brown eyes, but he offered no comment. Of course, that may have been because Adney continued to bitch.
If Chander had not taught Ducarius some of the finer points of etiquette, the sentinel would have told Adney to shut up.
Or at least recommend he conserve his energy by kindly suggesting he zip his lip.
The truth was Ducarius probably would have said something because he was so sick of listening to it, but he already knew it would be a wasted effort.
In the weeks since Ducarius had arrived, the necromancer had never made it through an entire meal without voicing some complaint. Ducarius hoped to hell the poor hapless skeletons he resurrected were deaf as well as mute because they did not deserve to be berated daily.
“Drexley, help me to the library,” Adney ordered.
Despite not having finished even half of what was on his platter, Drexley rose swiftly and handed Adney his cane.
It was not adequate to get Adney around any longer, but he insisted on holding it as he leaned heavily against Drexley.
Of course, he would not be Adney if he did not order Drexley to move slower, than demand he walk faster in the next breath as they shuffled out.
The silence of the room was beautiful in Adney’s absence.
But Ducarius had lost his appetite, so he rose.
As swiftly as he could, Ducarius gathered the platters and goblets and brought them into the kitchen for the skeleton to wash.
It was one of the few things Ducarius could do to help Drexley and the overworked skeleton, so the chore was one he looked forward to at the end of every meal.
Drexley hustled into the dining room and frowned severely at him.
“Stop cleaning,” Drexley ordered.
“No.”
“But it is not your responsibility.”
“Drexley, the Fate-chosen Arch Lich picks up his damn plate and brings it to the kitchen by himself.”
“I assumed you had a large staff with two Council leaders in your home.”
“There are three Council leaders in our condo, but all we have is Victor, and while he runs the household, he is also family. We are happy to help him. Chand does not like strangers in the house. Neither does any other Daray. That would not be safe.”
“How dangerous is the world now?”
“Even if it were as safe as this realm, we would take no chances with any Daray.”
“I suppose I thought that with so many weapons in your home you would not fear danger from any corner.”
Ducarius shrugged. “There are only seven sentinels.”
“But you mentioned fallen knights. I am sure of it. They are protectors too.”
“Yes, but they are not sentinels. No one has our unique set of talents.”
“Our skills are hard to forget. Which is strange given how much of my memory has faded away.”
“Do not fuss,” Ducarius reminded Drexley as he moved across the room to plant a kiss on his soft mouth.
“It makes you no less a scholar to know that you have invisibility, tracking skills, a deadly way with daggers, and imperviousness to temperature extremes. Those came along with your creation. They were imprinted on your soul as you were resurrected.”
Drexley grinned. “My matebond is also part of my soul. If I am lucky, every single memory of you will stay with me too.”
Deciding it was no good to reveal that the spell that had once stripped away memory had robbed Albrecht of everything, including Arvandus’s existence, Ducarius offered him a smile.
“Just spend all day thinking about me.”
“Do you know what was on my mind earlier?”
“I hope it was anticipation of how I plan to strip you later.”
To Ducarius’s disappointment, Drexley pulled away. “That reminds me, I still have a task to complete before I meet you in your bedchamber. Go to the library and read. I have picked out two books for you to choose between. I will join you there shortly.”
Giving his mate a token eyeroll since Drexley was ordering him around, Ducarius stalked out. Drexley's laughter followed him out of the dining hall, and it was the most joyous music in any realm.