Magic's Muse Page 13

  He retrieved Ethan’s bags, swinging the backpack over his shoulder and setting the suitcase back on its wheels. He’d wait for them back at the car, and give them their privacy for a bit. What did Ethan have in this bag of his, anyway? It weighed a ton, but then he’d never been one for travelling light. Everything but the kitchen sink, as Kathleen was fond of saying.

  “Tomas, wait up.” Ethan’s hand on Tomas’s shoulder made him freeze. He turned, feeling himself tense, then chastised himself for the action, remembering this was his friend. God, he was still more than a little touchy after recent events. More than he’d let on to anyone, even Cathal.

  “Ethan.” Tomas put the bags down. He and Ethan looked at each other for an uncomfortable moment’s silence. “How have you been?”

  It was a stupid thing to ask, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “Idiot.” Ethan pulled him into a loose hug before holding him back out at arm’s length and looking him up and down. “I should be asking how you’ve been.” He bit his lip. “I was worried about you, Tomas. Don’t you bloody dare go off for weeks on end like that again. I kept thinking we were going to find your body in some shallow grave somewhere.”

  Behind Ethan, Donovan mouthed the word “worried,” picked up the bags, and disappeared in the direction of the car. It wasn’t a subtle way of leaving them some time to talk, but then Donovan didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word.

  “I’m fine, Ethan. Really.” Tomas’s hand went to the pendant around his neck. “Better than fine.” An image of Cathal entered his mind, as it always did when he touched the pendant, and he couldn’t help but smile.

  Ethan was peering at the pendant. “That guy Cathal gave you that, didn’t he.” It was a statement, not a question, but Tomas felt a whisper of irritation run through him. Ethan didn’t know Cathal, at least not yet. They’d have to do something about that and build some degree of trust between them. Such things didn’t happen just by magic, even if it was responsible for much more than he’d ever given it credit for.

  “Yeah, he did.” Tomas swallowed. “It’s… it’s a sign on his world that we’re betrothed.” The old-fashioned term came to him naturally now when he spoke of their relationship, and was the one Cathal used.

  “Interesting.” Ethan smiled suddenly. “I’m looking forward to meeting him. He really must be something, with the effect he’s had on you. Kind of a mix of old-fashioned and otherworldly, from what I’ve heard.” He frowned. “You really do believe the whole thing about other worlds and magic he’s told you, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do!” Tomas scowled. “I’ve been there, Ethan. It’s not just a story, and Cat’s most definitely real.” He felt himself blush, remembering what they’d done the night before and just how real that had felt.

  “I kind of gathered that by looking at you.” Ethan’s mouth twitched. “You do realize you’ve got a very interesting looking hickey on your neck, don’t you?”

  “I do not!” Tomas’s hand went to his neck, the mark warm under his fingers. Cathal’s mouth on him had felt so good. He’d nearly lost it the first time Cathal had bitten him, which of course had only encouraged Cathal to do it again. “Oh,” he amended sheepishly. “I’d forgotten about that.”

  “Uh huh.” Ethan seemed amused by his reaction. “Don’t worry, Tomas, I won’t tease you too much.”

  “Did you bring what I asked?” For the briefest of moments, Tomas had a clear visual of Christian standing there encouraging Ethan’s dry sense of humor, and the two of them bonding over it. He shuddered.

  “Of course. You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” Ethan frowned, but it wasn’t clear whether it was because of the situation or Tomas’s reaction. “You’ve totally fallen for this guy.”

  “I wouldn’t be doing it otherwise, would I?” Tomas heard footsteps approaching. “And you’re serious about Donovan, yeah?” He lowered his voice. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were gay?” That was what had hurt, knowing that Ethan had kept something that big from him.

  “You didn’t ask.” Ethan shrugged. “Besides, you were so full of your own crap at the time I didn’t want to throw that at you as well. I had hoped you’d figure it out, but you never did.”

  “Figure it out?” Tomas stared at him. “You mean?” The penny dropped, and hard. “Duncan wasn’t just your roomie, was he?” Fuck, why hadn’t he seen it?

  “Do we have to talk about that asshole?” Donovan wrapped his arms around Ethan from behind. “I’d much prefer to talk about something else.”

  “Of course he wasn’t.” Ethan shook his head. “Any more than Cathal is just yours.”

  “Touché.” Tomas wasn’t in the mood for an argument, and pointing out that was different would only serve to start one. Donovan nuzzled the side of Ethan’s neck and grinned.

  “It’s all settled, then.” Donovan twirled his car keys around one finger. “I’m driving, so you two can trade secrets and tall tales on the way home.” His grin grew wider. “One condition though, no revealing couple stuff. Some things are private,” he slipped his hand into Ethan’s and began leading him to the car, “even if you and Cat still haven’t learned how to keep your noise down.” He tapped the side of his nose. “Noise travels, and our bedroom is directly below yours.”

  “TRY this.” Will slid a plate over the kitchen table toward Cathal. On it appeared to be a cake of some kind, but there were orange flecks in it. The icing was also of an unusual texture, which Cathal had not seen before.

  He raised an enquiring eyebrow. “What is it?” Once Tomas and Donovan had left for the railway station, Heidi had gone into the village to buy some kitten food, leaving Cathal and Will some privacy in which to talk. To Cathal’s amusement, Merlin had taken to Christian and was following him around the inn, demanding attention. The two cats had last been seen running across the grass toward the stable.

  “The carrot cake Donovan said was ‘to die for’. The topping is something called cream cheese.” Will poured them both some coffee. He too was acquiring a taste and somewhat of an addiction for it. “Personally, I think that might be an exaggeration, but it does taste rather good.”

  Cathal helped himself to a cautious forkful, ensuring he had a good mix of both the cake and its topping. It was very sweet, more so than he was used to. “Hmm,” he murmured his appreciation. “This does taste very good.” There was a distinct difference in the range of food and beverages available in this world. “I wouldn’t know that was carrot unless I’d been told.”

  “They eat very well here,” Will commented, taking a swig of coffee. He looked around the kitchen, his gaze lingering on the very apparent differences between this world and their own. “This technology they use also seems to make their life a lot easier, but from what I gather magic is either unheard of or known by another name.”

  “If we cannot find a way back, would it be so bad?” Cathal asked softly. “I know this isn’t home, Will, but I think it has the potential to be.”

  “You have a connection here, Cat, and the chance of a future with Tomas.” Will wrapped his fingers around his cup, his knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip. “I’m torn between wanting the portal to close so we are out of Deryn’s reach, and it remaining open so I can go home.”

  “The enchantment binding Christian and me won’t be broken unless it closes,” Cathal reminded him. The enchantment had been cast in such a way that the portal needed to be open for it to remain in place. Doing so meant, if they did find a way to close the portal, it would free them from their magical chains, but at the cost of trapping them forever in one world or the other.

  “I’m aware of that.” Will sighed. He looked at Cathal intently. Cathal returned it without flinching. “You have others relying on you, Cathal, and responsibilities that are not easily forsaken.”

  “I’m aware of that.” Cathal repeated the words Will had just used. “I also have a responsibility to Tomas, and I will not forsake that either.” He chewed on his lower lip. “If we do find another way to return, we will not be going alone. Tomas will be accompanying us. It is his fight now too, and he has promised to stand by my side, if needs be.”

  “I would expect nothing less.” Will’s expression softened. “He is a good man, Cathal. You have chosen wisely. He risked much to come after you and did not allow his fear of the unknown to prevent him from doing what needed to be done.”

  “He loves me, Will.” Cathal smiled. “Sometimes I wonder what I’ve done to deserve this chance of happiness and to have found him.”

  “You’re a good man too, Cat. There’s a reason why you lead the resistance so well. The people trust you and know you have their best interests at heart, rather than your own.” Will took a sip of coffee, quiet for a moment. “I would not say this in front of Christian, but there is a quality about you that he does not possess. You inspire confidence and put people at ease. There are some who say you would make a good king.”

  Cathal shook his head. “I do not want to be king, Will. I have already made my views clear on the matter. If my uncle were to lose his throne, my cousin Morgan would rule in his place.” Morgan was a very different man from his father and did not condone the choices his father had made. Needless to say, he and King Diarmuid did not get on well, which made the present king all the more determined to have a very long rule. “My life is with Tomas. I will fight for the resistance, but once we have achieved our goals I will live my life in the world of his choosing.”

  “There is no need to wear that stubborn expression with me, Master Cathal.” Will shook his head. “I am your friend, and it is not my intention to force you into a role you do not desire.”

  “Thank you.” Although they were not necessary, the words still needed to be
said. The slice of cake finished, Cathal pushed his plate away. “Now, I believe you wished to speak to me of something, and I doubt it is what we have just discussed.”

  “Yes, I did.” Will reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. Cathal recognized it as part of a sketchbook. He was certain that it was the same size and shape as the one Mikey often carried. There appeared to be something drawn on one side of it, but Will folded it before placing it on the table between them so the drawing could not be seen.

  “You wish to speak about one of Mikey’s sketches?” Will and Mikey had bonded somewhat. The boy was fascinated by stories of Rhosynoak and the lands that lay beyond, and Will was more than happy to speak of them. Cathal suspected it was a way in which his friend could keep his connection to home, and work through his feelings concerning their present situation.

  “In time.” Will refilled his coffee but did not partake of it. “This… coffee helps me to stay awake. There are nights when I do not want to sleep.”

  Cathal reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand on Will’s arm. “I wondered. I knew you had not been sleeping well of late.”

  “I dream, Cat.” Will looked down. “I’m torn between wanting the dreams and yet not, because I know they are not real. Waking up from them is difficult.” It was impossible to miss the pain in his voice. Regret, longing, and sadness washed over Cathal like a wave, flowing unchecked for a long moment before ebbing again as Will fought to control his emotions.

  “You’re dreaming of Amelia,” Cathal said softly. Although Will’s wife had died four years ago, she would never be forgotten. She and Will had been good for each other. They’d married young, as soon as they had become of age, having chosen each other as mates not long after they’d met. Amelia was gentle, kind, and beautiful, but also a woman who would not hesitate to do whatever it took to protect those she cared about. Will had lost much of his cynicism once he’d found love in her arms, for the first time in his life acting like the young man he was instead of one much older. After her death, he’d retreated into himself for several months before committing himself to the resistance. He blamed the mages for the death of his wife and their four-year-old son, but had never admitted the reason for that belief, not even to his closest friends.

  “No.” Will’s breath hitched, a sharp sob escaping his lips. “She is gone, Cat. I’d know if she wasn’t. My dreams are not of her, but of my son, Gerrant.”

  “I’m so sorry, Will.” Cathal could only imagine what it must be like to lose a child, but he’d had his share of nightmares about losing Tomas. “I wish I could have done more at the time.”

  “You gave your support, my friend. There was nothing more that could have been done.” Will’s eyes glazed over, his mind drifting toward the past. “I wish I could have had at least something to bury, but the fire destroyed everything.” His voice shook. “I heard her scream my name, Cathal. I saw her die, saw her burn, but I could not reach her in time.”

  Cathal flinched at the thought of it. At times such as this he did not envy Will his ability. A vision had woken him, alerting him to the danger, but by the time he’d arrived home it was too late. He’d ridden like a man possessed, urging his horse to the very edge of its endurance, but knowing it would not be possible to prevent something that had already happened.

  “She will never be forgotten, Will. Amelia was a good friend to all of us.” Cathal frowned. Why had he not noticed this before? He hesitated before putting his thoughts into words, not wishing to cause Will any further pain. “You said you were dreaming of Gerrant,” he said slowly. Will had spoken before of seeing Amelia’s death, but never Gerrant’s.

  “Yes.” Will glanced at the piece of paper between them, his eyes lingering on it. “Wishful thinking, I presumed, as it does not happen often, but they have both been on my mind of late, with being so far from home.”

  “A dream or a vision?” Cathal had to ask, although it was something that might not be easily answered. It was not always easy to tell the difference between the two.

  “A dream, I thought.” Will smiled a little, his mind wandering once again. “That is the strange part of it. I do not dream of him as he was but as he would be now. My little boy is growing quickly. He would be eight now, had he lived, eager to learn his lessons at my knee. I see him running through a field, his hair longer, darkening with age. He turns to look at me and smiles, asking when I’m coming for him.” His fingers caressed the paper. “Why can’t I find him, Cat? I’ve searched, and there is nothing. Even Faolan cannot sense him.” Cathal’s brother, Faolan, had the ability to track someone if given an item that had belonged to that person.

  “I don’t know, Will. I wish I did.” Abilities could be interfered with, even one such as Faolan’s. Cathal sighed. “Perhaps your dreams are just that, Will, as much as you’d wish them otherwise.”

  “I had convinced myself of that. But….” Will shook his head. When he spoke again, his words were unemotional, detached. “This boy, Mikey, his talent is quite extraordinary. I’ve seen his work. He sees what others do not. When the horse threw you, he drew the scene exactly, right down to the angle at which you were lying. He also saw the enchantment that bound you.”

  “He sketched Gerrant.” It was the only conclusion that made sense, given Will’s sudden diversion of their conversation toward Mikey and the way in which he kept the paper close.

  “Yes.” Will unfolded the paper, placing it on the table so the drawing could be seen clearly. Cathal’s breath caught. The sketch was exactly as Will had described his dream. “I didn’t speak to him of my son, Cat. Not until after he gave me this. He said he saw Gerrant, so he drew him. I asked him how or where, but he couldn’t answer me. He just did, he said, and refused to speak of it further.”

  “This is remarkable.” Cathal traced the outline of Gerrant’s face with one finger. Mikey had captured not just Gerrant’s appearance but something of his very essence. This sketch was of Gerrant as Cathal remembered the boy, but with the added growth of four years. He looked older, but the progression felt natural. “He reminds me of you at that age, Will, but with Amelia’s eyes and hair.” Her hair was much darker than Will’s and had a curl to it which Will did not possess at all.

  “How could Mikey have sketched this?” Will took the sketch back from Cathal, holding it almost reverently. He had no likeness of his son, everything having burnt in the fire. This was something tangible, something to prove Gerrant existed in more than just the shadows of his father’s memories.

  “This is the second time he has seen one of your visions, Will,” Cathal said slowly.

  “Is it a vision, Cat?” Will shrugged, the hope within him struggling to be realized. “Perhaps he can merely see dreams? As much as I want this to be real, I do not want to lose Gerrant again. Not like this.”

  “You were not dreaming when I fell from the horse.” Cathal wanted to be able to tell Will what he wanted to hear, but too many questions remained unanswered. “If that was a vision, this could be too. Or perhaps there is another explanation we haven’t thought of yet.”

  “What if Gerrant is still alive?” Will made a frustrated noise. “I should be making plans to find him, and yet I sit here wasting time in this place.” He tapped his fingers on the table, a jagged, uneven noise.

  “You asked Faolan to find him, yes?”

  “Yes, but I already told you it was unsuccessful.” Will’s fingers stilled, his eyes following the lines of the sketch. One hand came up to brush hair from his face. “If someone has Gerrant and is using magic to hide him, perhaps he isn’t dead.” He picked up the sketch, then let it drop again to the table. “I’m his father, Cathal. I should not have given up so easily. What kind of father does that?”

  “You are a very good father to your son, Will.” Cathal’s eyes narrowed, not liking where Will’s thoughts were going. “I do not want to hear about such doubts. You love him, and he adores you. Just because you are in this world does not mean that Gerrant is forgotten in our own. I know my brother. If he is asked to do something, he does not give up until the task is completed, one way or another.” Either Faolan would find Gerrant or find his body, but the latter was not an option of which he wanted to remind Will.