27. Fire Fox
Fire Fox
“Where were you?” a quiet voice asked.
Caelum froze where he’d been walking across the stone floor.
They hadn’t chained him to the wall this time, or even walked inside the long holding cell with him, but merely left him at the door.
He supposed that was a reward for finally losing his self-control enough to go to her.
He turned towards the young-sounding voice, and struggled with a painful twinge of guilt. He should have asked her. He hated the idea of it, hated doing that to either of them, but he should have asked her anyway, if she’d want him to pass on a message.
He dumped his coat on the dungeon floor, grateful they’d left it with him, as it got cold down there a lot of nights, and sat down on the floor by the wall.
The kid was sitting like he usually sat, cross-legged on their one and only rug, a thick, forest-green luxury that covered about ten square feet of the cell.
Several pillows were strewn across the rug, including the dark blue one where Arcturus sat.
A book lay open in front of him, and a few dozen more were stacked around him in a shallow arc, making him look a bit like a hoarder, or a scholar huddled in an ancient archive.
A candle burned in a brass holder a few inches from the top of the book. A plate of biscuits sat next to his leg on the left side, along with a mug of something hot, probably coffee, since the kid drank even more of it than his sister.
All were privileges Bones managed to wheedle out of his father for the kid, now that he was doing as he was told and his father was in a marginally more magnanimous mood towards both of them.
Caelum supposed his visit tonight with Leda after the raid on Marlborough, which Malefic had been prodding him to do for weeks, might win him a few more asks.
Maybe he’d try to get them a couch.
Really, he should ask for a real mattress they could sleep on, something a lot thicker and softer than the rug he’d won them a few weeks earlier.
The rug was significantly better than stone, of course.
The thought of a couch down there in the dark and damp and rats was almost laughable, given everything else.
He looked around at the mossy stone walls, their wooden bucket providing the only water they got, even now, the hole on the other side of the iron bars that made up their toilet, and he wondered how Arcturus was really doing with all of this.
Inevitably, his mind turned towards Leda.
Should he have told her about this? Shouldn’t he have told her something at least, about how her brother was really doing? Arcturus and his rug and books and biscuits either would have infuriated Leda, bewildered her, or possible even given her some relief.
He hadn’t known, so he’d opted to say nothing.
He did wonder if his father would actually move them to a real room soon, somewhere upstairs, inside the main body of the castle.
Maybe his childhood bedroom, where his father still hung the uniforms and workout clothes he expected Caelum to wear when he was let out of his cage. Would he just house Arcturus with him?
Caelum suspected he would.
He wasn’t sure what he thought of that idea himself, honestly.
Being in the house might just remind everyone Arcturus was there, and give ideas to some of the more twisted among the Dark Cathedrals.
Sirena, in particular, already made too many cracks about Arcturus.
She talked about him and to him in ways that reminded Caelum of how she used to talk to him when he was the kid’s age.
It made him uneasy.
He didn’t want Sirena going anywhere near Leda’s brother.
He wouldn’t give his father any reason to let that happen.
“You’re late,” Arcturus said, apparently giving up on him answering. He exhaled, looking up at Bones. “He’s been waiting for you.”
Arcturus motioned with the hand holding a quill pen, and Caelum followed the kid’s eyes to the translucent, primal-like fire fox, which was sitting on the floor, its tail curled lightly around its hind legs.
It squatted down as Caelum watched, laying its head down on its front paws and wrapping its flaming tail higher around its haunches.
It looked mostly white today.
He frowned a bit as he stared at it.
He and Arcturus still hadn’t exactly decided what it was.
Caelum knew he should be wary of it. He should tell the kid to be wary of it, too, and do what he could to keep it away from him and his magic, and away from the kid’s strange Obeah magic. He never seemed able to do that effectively, though.
Even now, when he pulled himself up off the stone to walk over and sit on the rug closer to Arcturus, the fox crept along with him, and when he stopped, sitting cross-legged a few feet away from the kid, the fox crawled into his lap.
It wound in a quick circle and then plopped itself down in the opening between his legs, curling into a tighter ball before it sighed and lowered its head back to its paws.
Exactly like Wraith might’ve done.
Bones didn’t try to push it away.
He leaned back on his palms, only wincing a little when it pulled at the wound in his chest. He reached a hand up then, and pressed it over the hole left by the crossbow.
“You got hurt again?” Arcturus observed.
Bones nodded. “It’s not serious. It was stupid. My fault.”
Arcturus didn’t comment, but picked up the plate of biscuits to set it exactly between them. “Is that where you were?” he asked after Caelum plucked up one of the chocolate ones. “Getting patched up?”
Bones didn’t answer, taking a bite of cookie.
“Took a really long time, if so,” Arcturus commented.
Caelum basically inhaled the biscuit, and brushed off his hands while still chewing. He leaned over to grab another one, giving the kid a sideways smile.
“You worried about me, runt?” he asked.
“Don’t call me that.” Arcturus looked at him with a serious, warning stare. “That’s what that horrible woman calls you.”
“Witch,” Caelum corrected.
“I can see Leda in your magic,” Arcturus said, before Caelum could shove the second biscuit in his mouth.
Caelum didn’t manage to stop the motion of cramming a second chocolate biscuit into his mouth, so he choked on it instead.
Arcturus frowned at him while he coughed, trying to force it down.
“I don’t know why you lie to me,” the younger mage complained. “You know what I am. You must know I would recognize her magic. You’re positively swimming in it right now. I can feel her all over you, like you two were…”
He paused, blushing.
“Anyway, the point is, you should know by now I can actually see her there. Why do you lie to me when I can actually see the lie, just by looking at you?” He paused, as if waiting for Caelum to explain himself, or maybe just to apologize.
When he did neither, Arcturus let out another exasperated sound.
“You’re really stupid sometimes, you know. ”
Caelum coughed out a half-laugh.
He couldn’t help it.
Even so, he was shaking his head, holding up a hand.
“I never lied,” he protested.
“You lied by omission,” Arcturus said, unimpressed.
“I’ve only just got back. Maybe I would have told you?” he suggested.
Arcturus gave him a flat-eyed, uncompromising stare.
“Don’t insult my intelligence,” the younger mage said haughtily. “Even suggesting you might’ve told me, when you clearly weren’t going to tell me, is just another dumb lie.” He pointed above Caelum’s head. “I can see that, too.”
He went back to staring down at his book, his arms resting in his lap, the quill pen still clutched in one hand.
“Is she okay?” Arcturus asked next. “Leda?”
Caelum felt his humor evaporate.
He didn’t want to lie to the kid, so he forced himself to stop before answering glibly, to actually think about his answer.
He struggled with a wave of desire when he remembered looking down at her, his hands pinning her wrists to the bed, her black hair splayed on his bedspread.
Gods, it had been difficult to leave her.
And what the hell had he said to her?
He glanced over at the kid, saw him staring at him curiously, and flushed.
“Are you blushing?” Arcturus asked, incredulous.
“She’s fine,” he said, answering glibly, in spite of what he’d told himself. He took a breath, leaning his hands on his knees and exhaled.
He fought to think, to give him a real answer.
“She looked tired,” he said finally. “Exhausted, really,” he admitted, a beat later.
“She looked like she’d lost weight… but her magic looked strong,” he added, when Arcturus’s brow furrowed.
“I could see more…” He motioned vaguely above his head.
“More structure there, I guess. She was really strongly connected to her primal.”
Remembering who he was talking too, he snorted.
“You would have seen a lot more, I’m sure,” he added wryly. “But she looked like she’d been training. Magically. A lot, probably.”
Thinking about that, he tried not to let his worry show on his face.
“Why would that be weird?” Arcturus asked. “She’s in university, right? Isn’t she supposed to be learning how to use her magic?”
“I guess it’s not weird,” Caelum said, shrugging.
“Then why do you look so worried?” Arcturus asked, his voice openly skeptical. When Caelum didn’t answer immediately, he sharpened his voice. “Cal? Do you think it’s more than that? Like she’s getting ready to attack your father or something?”
Bones glanced at him, a little unnerved at the scrutiny in younger mage’s wide eyes.
The kid noticed absolutely everything. What he didn’t notice on Caelum’s face, he saw in his magic, and he only seemed to be getting more observant, and more frustratingly accurate, the longer they knew one another.
Caelum increasingly had his doubts at how much he was able to successfully hide from the kid, especially when it came to anything he was even the slightest bit emotional about. He tried not to let any of those thoughts show on his face either.
He forced another exhale, and leaned back on his palms.
“No one’s attacking Malefic,” he said. He glanced at Arcturus, and hoped he sounded reassuring. “You’re sister’s too smart for that. She probably just wants to be ready.”
“Ready for what?” the kid immediately probed.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying,” Arcturus said accusingly.
Closing his eyes briefly, Caelum opened them, staring up at the low ceiling.
“You’re too much like her,” he muttered.
Running a hand through his hair, which was still damp from the shower, he met the younger boy’s gaze.
“I don’t want you to worry, okay?” he said.
“She wouldn’t want you to worry, either.
She’s not going to do anything stupid. I told her to be careful.
I told her not to come here again, like she did before.
I told her Malefic would want that, and that he’d trap her here, like he’s done with us. ”
Arcturus stared back at him for a few seconds, silent.
The anger and fear slowly leached out of his eyes as he seemed to turn over Caelum’s words. In the end, he nodded, and set down the quill pen, which he’d bent slightly while he’d been listening to Caelum talk.
“Are you going to see her again?” he asked next. “Cal?”
Caelum didn’t really want to think about that. Definitely not in front of the kid. Even so, he winced internally as he turned the question over in his head.
“I don’t think she’s very happy with me,” he said only.
He said it without thinking, staring into the darkness of the dungeon walls. When Arcturus didn’t say anything, he turned his head, only to find the kid staring at him again. Once they were looking at one another, Arcturus let out a low scoff.
Caelum stiffened, but forced himself to smile, to make his voice light.
“What?” he asked. “I’m trying not to lie.” He nudged the young man’s leg with his foot. “Not even by omission. We didn’t have a lot of time to talk.”
He cleared his throat, partly to push the images that wanted to rise again.
He felt his face grow hot and looked away, not really wanting the kid to see him thinking about sex twice in the same conversation about his sister, particularly given everything else the kid had seen since he’d gotten here.
“Why do you think she’s not happy with you?” Arcturus asked, his voice neutral.
Caelum could feel the young, untrained Obeah trying to hide his opinions, too. He didn’t try to probe what was there, but forced a shrug.
“Why would she be?” he asked bitterly.