Page 23 of The Mage's Rake
Hugh
The more I thought about the admission that I had made to Corrin and Landis, the more I realized the truth of what I had said. Alan was indeed growing on me. Alan was, for all intents and purposes, like mold… or moss. Before, I had hardly given him a moment’s thought beyond the minor twinges of annoyance I felt whenever I realized that he was glaring at me. He was a catkin loyal to Landis and a willing helper who worked for Gareth on occasion. Beyond that, I hadn’t paid him much attention.
Not anymore, however. Now that I was spending more time with Alan, I was starting to see all of the facets that made him unique, setting him apart from the other catkin at the king’s court. After our trip to the outskirts of Rimefrost, I began to realize that Alan was a rebel. He had a hidden adventurous spirit, a heart of valor, and also a soft spot for those in less fortunate circumstances.
Our eventful evening at Lady Saffron’s soiree made me realize how courageous and quick-thinking Alan truly was. And outrageous. For the good of Sumarene, he had tossed precaution and social mores to the wind. The Alan I thought I knew would have looked down on appearing disheveled or debauched, but this Alan emerged from our hiding spot with elan, as though he didn’t care about what people said. It was incredibly intriguing and attractive.
Upon rising, I hurried to his laboratory for our usual morning meeting. Every morning, I now required a spot of healing from Alan’s magical fingers. I had gotten quite used to stripping down to my waist and allowing him to run his hands all over my chest. I wondered whether he felt the same comfort from our lingering touches. I suddenly wanted to ask him. My pace picked up.
When I knocked, however, there was no answer. Frowning, I stopped, looked about, and then poked my head in. Judging by the smells of new potions slowly brewing over the carefully tended embers on the hearth, the new stack of books on the center table, and the open tome on the podium, Alan had already been here. At some point, however, he had left.
As I hesitated in the doorway, a quiet voice startled me out of my musings. I jerked back and blundered into a hard mass of cloaks and coats and robes. Beneath a very thick winter wool cap, two steamed-up panes of glass glittered dully in my direction. Alan.
“Alan,” I said breathlessly. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I called out,” Alan replied, staring at me curiously.
Worry crossed his face. Setting his spectacles aside, Alan jerked off his thick gloves and touched the back of his hand to my cheek. He squinted at me with suspicion blunted by the short-sighted lack of focus behind his violet eyes.
“Are you well, Hugh? Do you feel anything?”
“Just the usual cold numbness in my chest and the faint tingling from before.”
“Hm.”
Alan gently nudged me into his laboratory.
“Strip,” he said tersely. “Let me have a look. It’s not like you to wander about so dazed. Perhaps it is taking hold—“
“That’s not what is taking hold of me,” I said seriously, even as I stripped down to my waist, baring my chest.
While Alan bustled about, pouring a small vial of potion, I laid down on the narrow cot in the corner of the room. It took a second for Alan to truly register what I had said. He drew closer, held out a cup with a draught for me to drink, and then inspected me critically. Within a minute, Alan had a white sigil hovering over my chest as he carefully infused my chest with waves of his white magic.
“You have the ague?” asked Alan. “I wouldn’t be surprised considering the company we’ve been keeping. Perhaps another elixir to stave off any other illness. The last thing I wish to tell King—Landis—is that his favored knight died of the common cold.”
“No.” I chuckled. “That is not what I meant.”
As his spell slowly faded, replacing the numbness within my chest with warmth, my hand rose to cover his. I gazed up at him. The surprise at my sudden movement was slowly replaced with thoughtfulness. Beneath my roughened palm, his long fingers trembled slightly, and Alan blushed a little. He tried to tug his hand away, but I clung onto him, enjoying every last bit of warmth.
“I was just caught up in my thoughts,” I finally said. “Thoughts about a certain someone.”
“About a someone?” Alan’s white ears perked up a little and his tail swished a bit faster.
“About a certain short-sighted, white-haired, violet-eyed High Mage from the White Tower. Don’t know if you’ve heard of him. A tom with many secrets and layers—especially layers of clothing, which always get in the damn way—and intricacies… It might take me a lifetime to figure him out. Have you heard of him?”
My flirtatious tone brought another deep flush to his high cheekbones. His mouth dropped open a little as he reacted instinctively to the tone of my voice. His pink tongue flicked out nervously across his bottom lip, and he turned his head away, dropping his gaze.
“You are behaving rather strangely, Hugh.” Alan’s voice sounded oddly tight and also amused in a tender kind of way. “Even for you.”
I twined my fingers with his and tugged him closer. I didn’t want him to run off.Maybe it’s because of more recent events, I thought.Or perhaps it is seeing Corrin and Landis together. Or perhaps because I have only a month left. Everything now that seems important is set in sharp relief, and I now realize what I truly want.
It was an odd realization, even now. After all these years, I was finally facing the truth: I was alone. There was no other Starr beyond some distant relatives. I was on my own, and I was facing yet another Wintermas alone. Yet, it needn’t be that way. There were those I cared about around me—Corrin, Landis, and Gareth. Other friends. And there was Alan.
“Dying tends to get you thinking,” I admitted.
“You weren’t thinking before?” asked Alan, tilting his head. He rolled his eyes, answering his own question, “Right. You weren’t before.”
“I wasn’t, but I am now. More than usual.”
