Page 54 of Dead Wrong

My muscles ached, though I wasn’t sure if the cause lay in my near re-death experience or from sleeping on the dilapidated wooden surface all night.

“Does something trouble you?”

I groaned, running a hand through my greasy hair before looking up to find Cirian standing over me. He’d somehow secured another tunic during the night, and I couldn’t decide whether or not I was thankful for the fact that his body was covered once more.

“It’s nothing,” I said, standing quickly and taking a moment to refamiliarize myself with my surroundings. Dim light shined through the cracks of the walls and ceiling, casting patches of warm-hued light across the space. Cirian stood in one such spot, his hair mimicking blazing flames against the shadowy backdrop. It made it difficult to look away.

“I’ll take you at your word,” Cirian replied, fighting a smile. “How are you fairing this fine morning?”

“Like someone who slept on a plank,” I muttered, rubbing at the small of my back.

This coaxed a laugh from Cirian, causing the emblazoned hair on display to bounce. “Are you feeling any lightheadedness? Lack of sensation in your appendages? Abnormal desires?”

The only desire I had was to relieve myself and take a scalding hot bath. And if I were being honest, for Cirian to discard his tunic once more.

I kept all of them to myself.

“I’m not becoming a Distortion,” I replied, reining in the intrusive thoughts. I flexed my back till a series of popping noises relieved a bit of the pressure. “Is there a powder room in this hovel by chance?”

Cirian’s smile didn’t fade. “I’m afraid not. But nature provides a wonderful service just outside the doors. Our ride should be ready once you return.”

“Ride?” I questioned, suddenly suspicious. “Where exactly are we going?”

“Back to Cradle for the time being,” Cirian explained, stepping close enough I could smell the familiar scent of clove coming from him. “Adoranda’s forces are likely still active in the area, so we need to be cautious about our next moves. Once we’re safely under the Church’s protection, I’ll make contact with the Rebellion, and we’ll get you back to your lovely necromancer.”

“Bastien,” I corrected him with a scowl, my annoyance seeping through more easily due to my exhaustion. “I know you’re intelligent enough to remember his name, so stop pretending otherwise.”

“You assume I wish to commit anything about the man to memory. The fact of the matter is that I address him by the only quality in which I find interest. Besides his penchant for forbidden magic, he’s otherwise dreadfully unexceptional.”

“You speak as though you know him,” I countered, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Why is that?”

Cirian’s obsidian eyes rolled back as he chuckled. “I assure you, Toto, yesterday afternoon was the first time I had the pleasure of speaking with the necromancer. I’m certain he’s spent the majority of his life avoiding Hallowed like me for all the reasons you’ve already been made aware.”

“Ah, that’s right. So, your biases are the source of your contempt. Good to know that you are not as nuanced as I gave you credit for.”

Cirian’s knowing grin didn’t falter at the ribbing. “Make all the assumptions you wish, Tobias. It’s always been your forte.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked through gritted teeth.

The cheery demeanor spackled across Cirian’s visage faltered. “You’ll remember one day. If the Source sees fit.” He reached into his pocket, producing a small receiver with a coiled antenna. It crackled to life in his hand, a voice speaking low in a language that I couldn’t understand. He looked up at me after the message was relayed. “Transportation will be arriving shortly. I’ve already lowered the wards around the entrance, but be cautious of your surroundings while you relieve yourself, yes? I wouldn’t want to have to come to your aid while you’re holding your cock.”

I huffed a sigh in his direction. What had he meant earlier about my making assumptions? Was there even more from our past relationship than the trysts I actively had to fight from resurfacing in my mind? I had enough distractions going on already.

Cirian moved toward the altar, then halted, turning to face me once more. “Do you still have the Anima stone?”

I patted the protrusion in my pocket, the gem’s warm surface pressing against the side of my thigh.

This seemed to satisfy him, and he gave a curt nod. “Good. Keep it close.”

As he retreated to the dais at the front of the sanctuary, I could ignore the discomfort no longer and I turned to make my way outside in search of seclusion enough to release my basest of needs. Outside of the sanctuary, the morning was cool against my skin. Sunlight filtered down through the thick cover of trees overhead, washing the dirt road in equal parts shadow and brilliance. Without the wards surrounding me, the sounds of the woods swirled around—insects buzzing through the air, the skittering of leaves under rodent’s feet, an incessant bird song that repeated itself like a record jumping the track—and as I walked around the back of the dilapidated building, my thoughts drifted nearly as aimlessly.

Lynette was alive. I hardly had the opportunity to relish in the fact before all hell had broken loose back at the camp. Not to mention the bombshell that was Bastien. Just the thought of him was enough to start the tempest of muddled memories again, springing up from the recesses of my mind—A lazy afternoon, sipping coffee on my apartment balcony, books discarded on the table as Bastien’s fingers tangled in the curls of my hair. An evening spent whispering sweet nothings back and forth in a dark booth, purple smoke hanging thick in the air. A bright morning spent walking through a crowded marketplace, rows of bright flowers in dazzling arrays across every direction—at that moment, they felt like memories from another life. Like I was spying on someone else’s romance.

Would I still feel that way after the ritual? Or would the affection I was supposed to feel for him return like the pieces of a puzzle falling into place?

I wish I could say.

Around the trunk of a thick oak tree, I stopped, unfastening my pants and allowing myself the momentary pleasure of an emptied bladder.

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