Page 93 of Sharpen Your Claws

“Look at his eyes,” Henry declared. The group gawked, William most of all, somewhat hopeful, somewhat fearful. He caught Nicholas by the chin to force their eyes to meet.

“Is…” he coughed, his throat bitterly dry.

“Water,” William demanded.

Henry retrieved a canteen from his pack. He tried taking it, but his hand fell limp. William tipped his head back and poured the water over his parched lips. He gulped down more and more until William retreated.

“Is something wrong with my eyes?” he finally croaked.

“I don’t know about wrong.” Henry shifted through the pack. He chuckled when retrieving the crystal he used to follow them at the start of their adventure.

“Look.” Henry presented the crystal, angling it until he caught a reflection of himself. His eyes were brilliant fuchsia, save around the iris where violet leached into the hue.

“Fearworn was draining you of your powers, what made you a shade, somehow,” Evera half said, half asked.

“Then his powers are gone?” asked Arden.

“No.” He was weak, but knew he wouldn’t be forever. Those dying embers were still embers, struggling to light themselves, growing. He sensed it, like another heartbeat picking up pace. “It’s still there, just… quieter.”

“Forever or for a short time,” Evera muttered.

William fell against his chest, his arm wrapped tightly around the shade’s torso. He returned the gesture, savoring the sensation of them being together. He didn’t want to upset William but couldn’t deny how good it felt to know he worried, that he clung to Nicholas with a lovely vice grip.

“You’re safe. Fearworn’s gone. We saved who we could. That’s what matters,” William said, but there was a strangled hope in his voice.

“Are you…” His throat ached when he swallowed. He held William’s neck, scrutinizing the shreds falling over his scarred shoulder. Where the silver once bled into his skin were dark lines, like thick veins. “Does it hurt?”

“It’s sore and… stranger, but bearable,” he answered and didn’t sound that dejected at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Arden clapped and kicked at the ground. “While the lovebirds chat, I suggest we find any blood from Fearworn and burn it, or something. I don’t want anything from him to remain. He may crawl his way out of whatever the portal led to.”

Evera and Arden wandered off, bickering over what should be done. Charmaine surprised Nicholas by kissing his cheek. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

He pondered, briefly, if the warm feeling he had was why William and so many other mortals sought friendships. If so, the feeling was rather nice, and he wasn’t entirely opposed to seeking friendships in the future. Then Henry patted his leg, smiling with all his teeth. “You did good, Nicholas.”

Henry went to the patients, who huddled together beneath a tree. He gave them food from his pack that they inhaled and thanked him profusely for. They looked worse for wear, but they were alive and he had full confidence that William would see to their health.

“Is it really over?” William whispered.

“I don’t know. I don’t remember what you did,” he answered.

William took his hand. He peered at the spot the others circled, searching for any of Fearworn’s remains. Where the portal had been, the grass withered, leaving a pale darkness. Blood stained the ground too, no doubt a little of all of theirs.

“He opened a portal, Nicholas. Call me mad, but I don’t think it led to Faerie or Terra. It felt colder, distant, and I remembered what you said.” William gave him a stern look. “Don’t stray from the path, so I ensured Fearworn didn’t have enough time to walk it at all.”

“Let us agree that if the bastard dares to defy death again, we let another deal with him,” he said.

“Yes, let’s.” William laughed. “But what shall we do instead?”

“I want to dance at a ball where all can see. I want us to share a meal under the stars. I want us to build a home. I want all my experiences, new and old, to be with you.”

William’s head fell on his shoulder. He breathed deep like he tasted air for the first time. “You are the greediest and most troublesome man I have ever met.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It isn’t a no.” He kissed Nicholas’ shoulder. “I love the sound of that.”

“Even if I change again?” he dared to ask, fearful of an answer when he shouldn’t have been because William gave a kiss so full of love that his heart couldn’t bring itself to rest.

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