“Under a willow tree. By a lake.” Another kiss, this one shorter, almost like punctuation. “Learning to swim. Curling up on your blanket. Talking all night. Keeping you naked for days on end.”
“I promised, my love. We’ll see it again.” Dagan leaned forward and kissed the bite mark at Hen’s shoulder. It felt like he’d left it there a moon ago, though it had barely been two days. It still smelled of rosemary and thyme from the oil he’d put on it to ward off infection.
“I know.” Hen sighed. “Say that again.”
“What?”
“My love.”
Dagan huffed out a laugh. “Did I say that?”
“Yeah. Say it again.”
“My love.” It felt perfectly natural, though Dagan supposed that was no surprise, all things considered. He’d never said it aloud before this moment, but he’d been thinking it for weeks now. “For all the pet names I’ve called people over the years, that one’s yours alone.”
Hendrik smiled and brushed the tip of his nose against Dagan’s. “Damn right, it is.”
Eventually, they pulled their shirts back on and laced their pants, then headed back downstairs. On the second floor landing, Dagan suddenly remembered, “What did you ask Jak for?”
Hen cocked an eyebrow. “Jealous?”
“Well he is extremely good-looking. Better than me, even.” Which of course Dagan only said so that he could have the pleasure of hearing Hendrik say:
“He is not, and you know it.”
Dagan did not know it, but he had known Hendrik would think so. Because he was Hendrik. Of course, Dagan could’ve mentioned Jak’s obvious crush on Hendrik, but he settled for smiling smugly in reply. “Do you want me to be jealous?”
“Not about anything in this shit-hole.” Hen’s smile slipped a little. “Jak and everything else in this City is the past. You’re all that matters to me now.”
Dagan felt as if he’d had the wind knocked out of him. He reached up, grabbed Hen by the hair at his nape, and pulled him down into another kiss, though both of their mouths were dry and tender, now. “Have I mentioned before how good you are with words, when it suits you?”
“Not so bad yourself,” Hen whispered. “Drove me out of my mind, up there.”
“But really,” Dagan couldn’t help but ask again. Hen was never evasive, and it was a little bit maddening, as it turned out. “What did you ask him for?”
“A surprise for you. It’ll be worth it. I promise.”
“What kind of surprise?”
Hen snorted. “Just trust me. You’ll love it, if he can find it.”
Well, that did sound promising, even if it didn't make the evasiveness less maddening.
Chapter 2: Ag District, Stone City, New Harvest Moon
Dagan woke to the sensation of someone stroking his hair gently. “Mmm, Hen?” he muttered before he even opened his eyes.
“Right here,” came the expected low, sweet voice. “We have company.”
Dagan sighed and opened his eyes, surprised to find the downstairs common room busy with activity and awash with midday light. The room looked larger during the day, though the light was filtered through heavy woolen curtains, and the smoke from the hearth fire didn’t all make it up the chimney. The wooden beams provided an organic touch to the cold, blocky, stone-and-mortar construction of the long room, and the woolen tablecloths and curtains softened things a little. The building hadn’t been used in an age, clearly, but someone was taking care of it at least.
Dagan pushed himself up with both hands, gaze fixing on two strangers deep in conversation with Bartolo and Piret on the other side of the room. “Who—?”
“Sister Eva and her assistant. I don’t know him. But she’s the one who—”
“Told you the truth,” Dagan finished, eying her. She was small, unassuming, and older than Bartolo, he suspected, though he wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in the Stone City looked a few decades older than their Heart Wood counterparts, considering what he’d seen here so far. “We’d better see what they want.”
Hen nodded but dug in his pack and produced a small wooden box of charcoal powder first. “Teeth,” was all the explanation needed, and they both headed for a washbasin someone had set up near the stairs.
By the time their faces and mouths were acceptably clean, Sister Eva was halfway across the room to them already. She held out a hand to Hendrik, and then pulled him into a hug. For a moment, Hendrik froze, eyes wide. Then he patted her on the back and seemed to relax into it. “You’re alive, dear boy,” Sister Eva said with a laugh. “You’re alive.”
Hen pulled back after a moment and held her at arm’s length, looking at her intently. She seemed so small next to him, so frail under her dark, voluminous robes. And yet she held her head high, her shoulders back, and met his piercing gaze with one of her own.
“I owe you an apology,” Sister Eva said. “I underestimated—your attachment. And your tenacity. I should have prepared you better.”
“You said it yourself: I wouldn’t have believed you.” But Hen shook his head and let her go, taking a few steps back to Dagan’s side. “Anyhow, as you say, I’m alive. And I’m here to finish what we started.”
She nodded, mouth pressing into a grim line. “You didn’t bring the earthsinger, I hear.”
“They’re outside the walls.” Hen’s brow furrowed. “They’re not a fighter; it’s safer there.”
“We need them, nevertheless,” Sister Eva said. “I’m sending Jak and Maya to retrieve them as soon as possible.”
“I don’t understand,” Dagan said, unable to help himself. “Innan’s not trained for combat or stealth, and they certainly don’t know how to…exist here.”
“The darkness at the heart of the See is underground,” Eva replied, turning her attention to him. “And we can’t be sure where. Kajja says you found no maps in the books from the Archives, so we’ll have to fix up our own. And an earthsinger is the fastest way to do that.”
“What is it, though?” Hen asked. “What is the darkness? What’s feeding on the Children of the Blood, and the river, and the forest, and everything?”
