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“I suppose it’s closer to a nightmare,” Charlie mumbled. “What with the end of the world and all that.”
Garion’s smile only widened. “The end of the world can wait, my church mouse.”
The old nickname lit some fire within Charlie, until the air went hot on his skin.
“My fox,” the priest answered without thinking.
The assassin closed the distance with his easy grace, neither slow nor fast. Still, he caught Charlie off guard, even as his gloved hands took his face. And Garion’s lips met his own, far warmer than the air, firm and familiar.
He tasted like summer, like another life. Like the still moment between sleep and waking, when all went quiet. For a split second, Charlie forgot the Spindles. The broken realm. And the Companions dead behind him.
But it could not last. The moment ended, as all things do.
Charlie pulled back slowly, his hands on Garion’s own. They stared at each other, both searching for the proper thing to say.
“Will Mercury hunt you?” Charlie finally asked, his voice shaking.
“Do you want the truth, my love?”
Charlie did not hesitate, even as he wound his fingers with Garion’s. “I am willing to trade a broken heart for a living body.”
“You always were one for pretty words.” Garion smiled him off, though his eyes went cold.
“What do we do now?” Charlie murmured, shaking his head.
To his surprise, Garion laughed.
“You fool,” he chuckled. “Welive.”
“For how long?” Charlie scoffed, dropping his hands. He glanced into the darkness, to the city on fire and the Spindle still torn.
Garion followed his gaze, looking over his shoulder. There was only the blackness of the night, and the bitter cold of the moon.
“You truly believe it, don’t you?” he said softly. “The end of the realm?”
“Of course I do. I’ve seen it. I know it,” Charlie snapped.
Despite his frustration, somehow it felt good to quarrel with Garion. It meant he was real, and imperfect, flawed as Charlie remembered. Not some shining hallucination.
“The city behind us burns, you saw it too.”
“Cities burn all the time,” Garion replied, swishing his rapier through the air.
Charlie put out a hand and the assassin stilled, the light sword hanging at his side.
“Not like this,” Charlie breathed, forceful as he could be. He willed his lover to listen, to hear his own terror. “Garion, the world is ending. And wewillend with it.”
With a long sigh, Garion sheathed his blade.
“You really know how to destroy a moment, don’t you, darling?” He shook a finger at him. “Is this that religious guilt all you priests carry, or just your personality?”
Charlie shrugged. “Probably both. Can’t allow myself a single moment of happiness, can I?”
“Oh, perhaps a single moment.”
This time, Charlie did not flinch when Garion kissed him, and timedid not stop. The wind blew cold, rattling the branches overhead. It stirred Charlie’s collar, kicking up the smell of smoke.
Wincing, Charlie stepped back. He furrowed his brow.
