“You, too,” Kinan agreed, voice full of contentment.
Tomorrow, they would find out if there was anything that Perian could do to help again. Cormal was trying not to let himself pin all his hopes on it, but it was hard not to dream.
He loved everything that they did together, and if this was all they could have, he’d be more than grateful for it, but… he wanted more for Kinan.
But for now, the man was naked and sated and lying happily next to Cormal, and that was enough.
Cormal started awake, not sure what had woken him. Kinan had roused at his side with a bleary, “What—?”
There was a crashing sound… from below them?
Was the house under attack?
Cormal scrambled to his feet, Kinan rising as well, and they rushed into the hallway, meeting Brannal and Perian at the top of the stairs.
A moment later, the area was lit with the glow of multiple fireballs.
“Whoever you are, you just made a big mistake!”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Trill
The next day, Arvus’s horse threw a shoe just before lunchtime, and they had to hobble into the next town to get it fixed. Molun fretted like he was just imagining all the ways that Cormal could be dead by now. The lost shoe delayed them for a couple hours, and this time, Molun insisted they press on.
“Cormal had to have arrived sometime today. We might be too late, but we have to try!”
Reluctantly, Arvus agreed. Trill was pushing energy into Molun’s leg at every opportunity. It grew dark, but they passed the town Arvus said was where they sent their letters to Perian and Brannal.
Thankfully, the road was in good repair, and they were able to follow it out to what Trill assumed was the estate. It was too dark to see much.
“It doesn’t sound like anyone’s being tortured,” Trill pointed out.
He’d meant it in jest, but Molun took his words seriously. “Brannal is too smart for there to be witnesses. We need to get inside to find out what’s going on.”
There didn’t seem to be a better idea. It was the middle of the night, it was cold, and they were hours out of town. They were able to stable their horses, but there was no one there. A large dark horse stamped and snorted his annoyance.
“Sorry, sorry,” Molun told him placatingly. “We didn’t mean to interrupt your beauty sleep. I’ll bring you lots of apples later, all right? Please don’t lead a revolt.”
The horse tossed his mane around and snorted some more, but he subsided.
“Thank all the elements,” Molun whispered. “Now, come on.”
Their plan to sneak quietly into the house suffered an immediate check. They made it through the unlocked front door, but Molun promptly walked into what Trill thought was a table. And then as he was reeling back from that, cursing, he knocked into Arvus, who knocked into something that went crashing to the ground and shattered.
Molun was saying, “Ow, ow, ow!” when the front hall was suddenly aglow and a menacing voice said, “Whoever you are, you just made a big mistake!”
There was a moment of stunned silence, and then Molun said, “Cormal, are younaked?”
A moment later, someone came leaping down the stairs and threw themselves into Molun’s arms with a shriek of, “Molun!” which was returned with an equally ear-splitting shriek of, “Perian!”
Cormal was definitely naked. And Trill knew that he was his uncle, but wow, he had nothing to be ashamed of, that was for sure.
Cormal’s fireballs winked out. “I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared with the Prince, presumably to put some trousers on, and the other man, who had to be Brannal, came down the stairs with his fireballs still in his hands—but he was smiling widely, so Trill assumed this was just so that Molun didn’t run into any more furniture.
“Sorry about that,” Arvus said, gesturing at what had clearly been a vase, because there were flowers and water on the floor, too.
