Page 12 of The Lost Art of Woodworking and Taking Risks
Chamis managed a nod because it didn’t feel like his vocal cords worked anymore.
With gentle fingers, Bennan picked one of the carvings up, a kitten that Chamis had seen in the quadrangle. It was on its back, legs kicking up into the air, just waiting for someone to try to rub that soft-looking tummy before it would squirm and probably claw you up—and then do it all over again, just waiting for the next person to be lured in.
Bennan reached out a finger and actually rubbed at the tummy, and Chamis’s own stomach lurched, like he’d suddenly leaped out of a tall tree.
“The detail is amazing. I feel like I’m going to pet actual fur. And it’s so smooth. You polish it?”
“Beeswax,” Chamis managed to croak out.
“They’re amazing,” Bennan repeated, gaze roving over the shelves. “Truly, the detail is exquisite.”
“It’s just something I do to pass the time,” Chamis said, uncomfortable.
Bennan’s eyes flashed to his. “Chamis,” he said, voice firm, “they’re so beautiful. I don’t know anyone else who can do something like this. They’re gorgeous.”
Chamis’s breath was caught somewhere in his throat, and he just nodded, which he recognized after a moment was not at all the correct response to a declaration like that, but Bennan had sounded soearnest, and Chamis was certain that no words would come out of his lips right now, and he felt kind of naked, standing there, watching the other man look at all his carvings. Also, he felt kind ofseen, and that was at once utterly terrifying and… kind of liberating?
Bennan was carefully looking at the carvings one by one, not picking all of them up, but doing it often enough that it was clear he was taking them each in. He was careful when he touched one, strong fingers gentle as he examined them from every angle, and he often had a comment or two on what he admired: the fur, the tree’s bark, the way Chamis had carved the water so deftly that it looked like it was actually flowing.
Chamis liked to carve anything that caught his fancy. He’d carve flowers and trees he saw in the garden, animals, elements. And people. He usually made small carvings, not more than six inches tall or so, but sometimes he was a little more ambitious.
“Chamis,” Bennan breathed, lifting the carving reverently.
Summus had come to do a demonstration for the Warriors, and he’d created a stormy chaos of elements: fire, water, air, and earth all whirling together. Chamis had shown the man standing there, feet grounded intothe earth (a wooden base), arms stretched wide, that look of concentration on his face as he’d summoned the elements.
It had been over three years ago now, not long after Chamis had first arrived as a naive but hopeful twenty-one-year-old, but he’d never forgotten. Summus had talked about the importance of control and working together. Summus might be able to manifest all these elements, and he might be able to fashion them into a shield—and he’d done so, the elements fusing together and flattening out into this glittering shield that Chamis had learned was impenetrable—but he couldn’t keep it there indefinitely. He couldn’t be everywhere at once. They needed people guarding the gates, patrolling the castle, observing from the watch stations around the country, and much more.
Chamis had never forgotten that speech, and he’d seen the way it had inspired many of his fellow Warriors as well. It was easy to believe that Mage Warriors were superior, and Chamis had occasionally come across one who acted that way. But more seemed to believe like Summus did that they were all part of a great whole, working together to keep everyone safe.
Chamis had made several failed attempts before he’d finally succeeded in carving that piece. It was almost twelve inches high, one of the most ambitious carvings he’d ever made, but he’d felt he needed the size to really capture the details as best he’d been able to recall them. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but he was pleased with the results.
Bennan looked awestruck.
“I can’t believe you were able to carve this out of wood! It looks exactly like him, and you can see all the elements even though they’re all wood. It’s amazing!”
All the praisemade Chamis more than a little uncomfortable, but it also filled him with warmth.
He blamed the fact that he was trying to figure out how to respond to the compliments that he didn’t realize what was going to happen next. He should have seen it coming because he knew, heknewwhat carving was behind Summus, carefully tucked away so no one would immediately see it, wouldn’t see it unless they moved the carving of Summus and actually pulled it out, and—
“What—?” Bennan was already reaching even as Chamis was saying, “Don’t—!”
But it was too late. Of course it was too late. Chamis’s entire face was on fire, and if he would onlyactuallycombust, or if the ground would open up and swallow him or a deluge would sweep him away or maybe a gale would rip by and take one or the other of them with it, or maybe just remove the evidence—
Bennan had put down the carving of Summus and was now cradling the second carving in his hands, cupping it so carefully as he stared at it. He looked up at Chamis.
“This isme.”
It was, without question. Chamis was never going to admit just how many times he’d tried to get that carving right, just how many times he’d consigned another attempt to the fire and then started anew.
It was still far from perfect, but he’d been somewhat proud of the effort, and he might have worked on it… sort of feverishly after the first time Bennan had tugged off his tunic during practice and Chamis had been confronted with the glory of the other man.
It was from his waist up, Bennan caught forever in that moment where his arms were raised and he’d tugged the tunic up and over his head. Chamis had worked so hard to capture the perfect flex of those arms, muscles bulging with tension, the sculpted shoulders and torso, the cocky smile on his face as he raised his head proudly…
They were all lovingly carved because Chamis had loved every inch that had been revealed. He’d carefully carved the man’snipples, and now Bennan wasseeingthis, and why hadn’t Chamis thrown this one in the fire too? Why had he even tried to carve them to begin with?
He knew why, of course—because only a few people had come to his room, and he’d tucked it to the back of the shelf, and he hadn’tthought, and now Bennanknew, and—
“Can I kiss you?”
