Rest In Pieces

30

Airo

They would spend one more day. One more day in the warm house with the beds and the food and the alcohol. Airo made note to bring some along. He had already begun to fill a few flasks. Inessa did not notice or did not mind.

"We'll leave at first light," Inessa decided. Airo let out a groan. Was sleep too much to ask for?

He found himself enjoying Laszicslavi cuisine. He'd had scraps before, at the front, but it was nothing compared to the talent Inessa possessed. He hoped she would bring meals for the rest of their journey.

She set her bowl down and cleared her throat. A bit awkward, Airo thought.

"I suppose you'll all find out eventually—Xadya knows—but I should tell the rest of you." Inessa looked at Xadya, searching her eyes for what to say.

Airo squinted at her. "You're not a witch, are you?"

Inessa pursed her lips.

Airo grew quiet. "Did you spell the food? It is very good."

"Don't go soft on me now, Your Majesty," she chuckled. James and Xadya snorted, to Airo's chagrin. He wondered if his title would ever be used in a non-sarcastic manner, or if he should abandon the notion altogether.

"Have you practiced any other spells we should know about?" Malakhai asked, inching away from her. Venturans, especially the Arcane, were wary of witches. Feared them, actually. The tales depicted them wild and chaotic and uncontrollable. They possessed no belief or faith in anything familiar. Only in themselves and their magic.

Inessa did not seem to hold any of those qualities. It was rare to find a witch with faith.

"There is a protection spell on this house," she said calmly. "Keeping it safe and us too."

"Yzaos talks to me," Xadya blurted.

"What the hell is going on," Finley muttered to herself.

Xadya buried her face in her hands. Airo wrinkled his nose at the state of her hair.

James shook his head violently. "Sorry—hang on—is he talking to you right now?"

"He will not talk to me with you here," she mumbled. "The gods don't like you, Jamie."

Airo squinted at his partner. He had always assumed James had faith, prayed like the rest. Perhaps he was wrong.

James paled. "Fat lot of sense that makes. I've been wondering why all my prayers went unanswered."

Sadness grew in Airo's chest. He tightened his fingers around James, who did not seem the slightest bit upset.

"Do the other gods talk to you?" Finley voiced what they had all been thinking.

Xadya shook her head. "Not yet."

Yet. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"Help me pack?" Inessa raised her eyebrows at Finley. They left the sitting room together, Airo squinting as they went. The girls had grown increasingly close as of late. It made him wonder.

"Come on, love," James beckoned, tugging at his arm. Airo followed wordlessly; he didn't care where James was leading him. Not as long as he was with him.

Airo despaired when James rolled out a map. "We should get planning, don't you think?"

"I thought we were going to do something fun."

James arched eyebrow. He came closer. "Maps aren't fun?"

Airo shrugged. "Not as fun as other things." He barely had the chance to finish his sentence before James was holding his face between his hands, fingers curling into his hair, lips finding his own.

James felt like home.

Airo's insides warmed and James' electric fingers sent his skin aflame. The other boy felt around beneath his shirt, too distracted to pull it off but desired it all the same.

They parted momentarily, for breath, and James said, "Well, the map isn't going to mark itself."

Airo swayed at the loss of contact.

"Fuck," he muttered. James had an awful smirk on his face but said nothing. They knew the power they had over each other. How dangerous it could be.

Airo kept a flask tucked under each layer and a bag of them on his shoulder. James had berated him, of course, but he'd shrugged him off. They had to come prepared, he'd said. The journey up was not short and they still had to find a safe way out of Laszicslav.

Perhaps Inessa had a protection spell tucked away for them.

"Nothing of the sort." The tiny blonde girl had appeared beside him.

"Gods," Airo muttered. "Can you read minds?" Perhaps he shouldn't have cursed, seeing they now had a very godly problem on their hands.

"Only when I listen," Inessa said sheepishly. "I shouldn't have been."

"Oh, it's all right, I doubt my thoughts are all that secretive."

James called down to them from ahead. "It's true. He's an open book." Airo shot him a glare.

"No spell, then?"

"No spell. Just good, old-fashioned weaponry."

Well, Airo was used to that.

They trudged on and braced themselves as they passed through the barrier of Inessa's protection spell. It had stretched far. She was quite powerful.

The war had pushed back on Laszicslav during Airo's years at the front. Much of Ventura was at peace, faced little threat. That was no help to them there. Battle could be around any corner. Airo had a map shoved in his face at every split in their path. They wanted to know the strategies. They wanted to know where the enemy was.

He could not remember.

Airo could not remember anything.

It wasn't the first time he'd panicked about it; the further up they went, he'd found himself with holes in his memory. He wasn't sure he really minded.

Memory loss was a slight improvement to nightmares.

But Airo was a soldier through and through. He skirted them around the edges of the battle successfully, though it seemed a separate fight they would face.

They were back in the between. Back with the creatures. Back with the unknown.

This time, they had more alcohol and more food. A fire was not wise this deep up the mountain, but they huddled together for warmth. The snow had not been kind to them.

Airo rested his head against James shoulder, they passed a flask back and forth.

He eyed Xadya. "I'm worried about her, back here."

Airo sighed. "She'll be all right, Jamie."

"Perhaps there are no more villages for her to slaughter."

She needed to eat. Airo did not understand why, but he would not stand in her way. Especially not when, otherwise, it was his heart she'd come for.