Chapter 7 #2
“I can’t believe you’re still wrecked,” Dylan said. “Though from what Tobin showed us of Salem’s memory, I’m not surprised. You were drunk dancing, my friend.”
“With a fairy tree woman who was both green and translucent,” Hendrix added. “I still can’t believe that.”
“Me either,” Aurin said. “But if you’re ever offered honey mead at a solstice campfire, say no. Trust me, it’s not a game you will win.” He made a face before pushing the cup of tea away too.
“I wonder what was in it,” Kellan said. “If it was something we cephamorphs metabolise differently. Salem, you are fine?”
“I feel fine, yes,” he said.
“Old gods are built different,” Aurin said. “Cern was fine also. Must be some cosmic thing.”
Then, as Aurin leaned back against him, Salem put his hand to Aurin’s forehead and met Kellan’s eyes. “He is a little warm.”
Before Kellan could slip into full doctor mode, Aurin stood up.
“I’m okay, honestly. Another day or two, and I’ll be back to normal.
I don’t drink often, clearly. And it’d been a very stressful week of no sleep and not eating enough.
I felt so much better in freeform, so this is clearly a human flaw.
” Then before anyone could say anything else about it, he pulled Dylan to his feet.
“Come on, you said we’d go meet the new guys and see their vegetable patch,” he said.
Then he linked his arm with Dylan’s and murmured, “And we have details to discuss.”
Dylan grinned as he snatched up his piece of toast. “Oh yes, indeed we do,” he said, and they headed for the door.
Hendrix’s smile was warm, his eyes filled with fondness, as he watched them, and then he gave Kellan a nod toward the door. Kellan understood what that meant, apparently.
They stood, and Kellan put a hand on Salem’s shoulder. “We should follow.”
“Oh yes,” Salem replied, walking out with them. “Is your bond still bound by the need for proximity?”
Hendrix held the door for them. “I dunno if ‘bound by’ is the right way to say it,” he said. “Can we be apart? In the beginning, no. But it has eased up a bit. It’s a physical thing, needing to be close. Kinda hard to explain.”
They followed Dylan and Aurin, who were still walking with arms linked, whispering and laughing. Salem loved to see it. Aurin and Dylan were always close, along with Hendrix. They were the three youngest in the consortium and were as close as brothers.
Well, Dylan and Hendrix were much more than that now.
“I must say,” Kellan mused. “I’m very intrigued by your accent and vernacular, Salem.”
Salem chuckled. “Aurin loves it,” he admitted. “He says it’s romantic, or something to that effect. I’m trying to not sound so—what did he call it?—Tudor princelike. It’s a vain attempt to fit in more, I guess.”
Kellan laughed at that. “Well, don’t change a thing or try to modernise anything. Your accent tells a story. A story I’d love to hear all about one day. Your life story is so unique, so mysterious, I can’t help but be fascinated by it. And I love history, so...”
“Kellan loves to learn new things,” Hendrix said, taking Kellan’s hand and threading their fingers together. He looked at him with such love, it felt like an intensely private moment, and Salem felt the need to look away.
He watched Aurin instead, feeling that burst of warmth, of love, that stole his heart whenever he looked at him. “What do you suppose they’re whispering about?”
“They are,” Hendrix said, “one hundred percent talking about our sex lives.”
Kellan nodded. “Without doubt.”
“Oh,” Salem said. He felt his cheeks warm and was glad they were both too busy smiling at Dylan to notice his embarrassment.
“Assuming you guys have something for him to talk about,” Hendrix said.
Salem’s face flamed, and his silence made both their heads turn. “Uh, yes,” Salem said quickly. “Though it’s private. Or so I thought.”
Kellan took pity on him and clapped his shoulder. “You’ll get used to it.”
“God, I bet you’ve seen some shit you’d rather forget,” Hendrix said. “You know, when you were in cat form, when Ciaran and Sawyer first bonded. And then Fray and Tobin.”
“I was very adept at making myself scarce,” Salem said, and they both chuckled.
Dylan and Aurin had stopped walking at the large vacant block at the end of the row of houses that fronted the water. Only now it wasn’t vacant. There were rows of tilled soil, wooden planter stakes, and two men working with gardening tools.
The newest consortium members, apparently.
Salem had only met them very briefly the night before.
They’d arrived when Salem and Aurin were up the mountain, and everyone seemed to like them.
Tobin had done a quick mental scope to see if they were hiding any ill intent, and he’d said they were genuine.
Their old consortium in the Bass Strait had split after differences couldn’t be reconciled.
Differences over helping the Tenebrae consortium defeat Lusca.
All that aside, Beau and Hudson were now residents of Tenebrae Cove. Beau appeared to be older, Salem thought, closer to Kellan’s human age. Hudson was closer to Fray, Tobin, and Ciaran’s age.
They both stopped working and brought their gardening tools over to meet Dylan and Aurin with a smile. “Hello,” Beau said.
“Have you changed your mind about helping?” Hudson asked Dylan, offering him the shovel.
“Uh, that’s still a no from me,” Dylan said with a smile. “Not today, anyway. I told Aurin I’d bring him down to see the hard work you two have been putting in.” Then he gestured to Salem. “And Salem. You met before, but this is way less formal.”
“Hello,” Salem said.
They both looked at him as if he were some fascinating thing.
“You’ve done a great job with the house too,” Aurin said, nodding to the old house beside the lot.
“It’s a great house,” Beau said. “If retro ’50s is your thing. Wooden floorboards came up great, though.”
“Nothing a good clean couldn’t fix,” Hudson added.
Which Salem knew wasn’t exactly true. It was an old house. The weatherboard exterior had seen many years and far too much wind and rain, and the roof was rusted in places. But Hudson looked at it as if it were something worth saving.
Like it was more than he’d had before.
“Once we get the porch fixed and the roof sealed,” Beau said, clearly the more practical of the two. “Along with the plumbing and the wiring, and there’s rot in the laundry....”
“Full of character,” Hudson said with a laugh. “But seriously, it’s a great place. We’re very grateful. We’ve got our own rooms here, in our own house. Free to work and rest as we please.”
“Didn’t have that liberty in your old consortium, huh?” Kellan noted, as if it were something they’d discussed before.
“Makes us appreciate it more,” Beau said.
“And your garden,” Dylan said. “I spy some seedlings coming up. That was quick.”
“We planted specifically for high rainfall, and we do have the greenhouse,” Hudson said, and then they discussed vegetables and proper drainage solutions prior to planting, all topics Salem didn’t really care for. In that moment, he couldn’t help but watch Aurin.
He was smiling, engaged in conversation, but his eyes weren’t right. He’d squint, for just a moment, or furrow his brow. And every so often, he’d rub his side, his back.
He wasn’t well.
“Aurin,” he said gently. “Shall we head back?”
He nodded, scrunching his nose a little. He clearly didn’t want to leave, but he knew it was a good idea.
“Please don’t think us rude,” Salem said to Beau and Hudson. “But Aurin is still under the weather, and we have a few things to collect from his old room. I’d welcome a chat, and perhaps a meal, at another time.”
“Of course, anytime,” Beau said, his concerned gaze on Aurin. “I hope you’re feeling better soon.”
“I’ll be fine,” Aurin said. “Thank you.”
He was not fine, Salem noted. He was pale. He put an arm around Aurin’s shoulder and turned for home. “Can you walk?”
This, of course, made Aurin mad. “I’m not that sick,” he said. “I’ll be fine, and yes, I can walk. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”
Salem gave Kellan a glance over his shoulder, a silent request to please come by later, to which Kellan nodded.
“We’ll bring your stuff over later,” Dylan called out after them. “Get some rest.”
They walked back to their little house in silence, mostly because Aurin was pouting. But he was also pale, and he was still wincing every so often. “I don’t know why I feel so awful. I thought I was improving.”
“You need to rest, my love,” Salem said, pulling back the bed covers and helping Aurin to lie down. “I know you are very stubborn when you aren’t feeling well, but you’re going to be good and let me help you.”
He was even too listless to argue. He simply snuggled into the blankets and closed his eyes. “Don’t go far.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Salem whispered.
And he didn’t move. He sat on the side of the bed, watching Aurin sleep. Watching his breathing. Watching as his face flickered with pain every so often.
Rain tapped against the windows while Aurin lay tangled in his massive blankets, pale and miserable, one arm flung over his eyes.
“You’re burning up again,” Salem murmured.
“I’m not,” Aurin croaked.
“You absolutely are.”