“I’ll be back by this time tomorrow, no matter what happens,” Pollux said as he stood in the doorway, ready to leave. Adrissu nodded, his hands lingering on Pollux’s waist.
“You have the parchment, right?”
“Right here,” Pollux said, patting his pocket. “I’ll keep you updated as best I can.”
“Be safe,” Adrissu urged. “You can come back for any reason. If it seems strange at all... I’d rather this take longer than we thought than have you get hurt.”
Pollux managed a smile at him. “I know. I will.”
They kissed, then Pollux left, and Adrissu was truly alone. He stared at the door for a long moment, wondering if he had damned his mate to die yet another painful death—this time all alone. Eventually, though, he tore his gaze away and settled down to wait.
Waiting was absolute agony, Adrissu decided only a few hours into his vigil. There was nothing he coulddo, and he was not at all accustomed to feeling so helpless. While he could keep himself busy, none of it mattered if it couldn’t help Pollux. He could do nothing from here, yet his presence with Pollux would certainly doom them to fail all over again.
He stared uncomprehendingly down at a book for nearly an hour, his mind racing with thoughts entirely unrelated to the paragraph on the page that he couldn’t seem to get past. Then he paced around for a little while, trying to expel some of the pent-up nervous energy vibrating under his skin, but to little avail. Every half-hour or so, he would look at their shared enchanted parchment, but it was always blank. They had agreed Pollux had twenty-four hours to scout out the lair to the best of his ability and return to Adrissu, so he had almost an entire day to wait before he could do anything.
Adrissu couldn’t bring himself to sleep for fear that Pollux would write to him in need of his help, so he ordered a flagon of wine up to his room with his supper, picking at the food and helping himself to the wine. He lit candles and stared at the enchanted parchment on the table before him—sipping from the goblet that he kept full through the night, feeling the seconds crawl by at a maddening pace—and still no word ever came from Pollux. He caught himself nodding off as the sun rose, exhausted from traveling the day before, and started pacing again to stay awake.
One of the tavern workers brought him a plate of breakfast; the innkeeper must have been trying to appeal to them, as the proffered tray carried the light, bland fare elves often began their days with, even though Adrissu had made no special requests. He sipped on a bowl of clear broth with paper-thin slices of mushroom while it was still warm, then picked at the soft flatbread that came with it. It was surprisingly authentic, and Adrissu wondered how the innkeeper, or the chef perhaps, had known this part of elven culture. If he had had any appetite at all, it might have been nice just for the nostalgia of the days that he’d spent in Aefraya with Braern; but as it was, he felt too sick to enjoy anything.
It felt all too much like when Ruan had left. Here he was again, helplessly waiting to find out if his mate somehow survived against a much stronger foe, knowing his interference would likely cause far more problems than it would solve. At least with Ruan, there had been some survivors who returned to confirm that he had died—a conquering army come to tell him what he had lost. This time he would be met only with silence, and a long journey home alone. Why had he ever agreed to this plan? Why had he ever allowed Pollux to put himself in harm’s way? Why was his mate a mortal, condemning him to suffer all over again every time he died? It was stupid and cruel, and Adrissu was a fool to think they could weasel their way out of this fate.
When it had been twenty-three hours and still Pollux had not returned, Adrissu thought he might die of despair. Dragons could not die in such a way, at least not that he had ever heard of, but maybe he would be the first. Cursing himself and his terrible luck and his arrogance and his foolishness, he almost missed the dark smudge of Pollux’s handwriting appearing on their slip of shared parchment—normally neat and small, but the letters now thick and slanted, as he wrote with a short charcoal stick he’d brought along.
On my way.
Adrissu nearly jumped out of his seat, bringing the parchment closer to his face in fear that he was hallucinating its appearance. But the brief message remained under his scrutiny, and he stifled a mad laugh as he fell back into the chair, dizzy with relief. He was alive. He was coming back. Maybe they really could do this after all.
Now that his anxiety had flooded out of him all at once, he was just left with an aching weariness from not having slept at all for nearly three days. While he didn’t need to sleep as often as humans did, this was still far longer than usual for him, and it was catching up to him now. Adrissu laid down and managed to nap until he heard the latch of the door rattling, and he leapt up out of bed in time to see Pollux slipping inside—looking dirty and tired, but entirely self-satisfied.
“You did it,” Adrissu said, nearly breathless with relief at seeing his mate whole and healthy before him. Pollux smiled and kissed him roughly, the smell of earth and sweat and the herbal scent that was uniquely Pollux flooding Adrissu’s senses.
“I did it,” he agreed when he finally broke their kiss, pulling from within his robe a carefully folded piece of parchment. He unfolded it and tossed it down to the table beside Adrissu; it looked like a hastily sketched map or diagram, but he barely spared it a glance. “And I have a plan.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Pollux’smapwasindispensableand his plan was solid, so they agreed they would leave the following morning just before dawn on foot, then fly the rest of the way when they were far enough out that Adrissu could transform without the risk of being seen.
Adrissu helped Pollux bathe, feeling acutely aware that this might be the last time his mate would inhabit this body. He washed the elf’s hair, memorizing the feel of the silky wet strands in his fingers—the way his muscles shifted under his fingers as they rubbed soap up and down his back—the pulse that thrummed with vitality when Adrissu’s touch lingered along the sides of his neck or drifted down to hover over his heart. The elf was exhausted and seemed to relish in Adrissu’s undivided attention, so he said nothing about how his bath went on far longer than usual.
When the day’s travel was washed away, Pollux ate hungrily and prepared his weapons, then together they laid down to rest. Though the night was still young, sleep came quickly to Pollux again—Adrissu couldn’t think of any other instance when he had slept decently two days in a row. Though Adrissu himself was still restless with nerves, seeing how easily Pollux slept seemed strangely reassuring, as if it were a sign that they would succeed. He hoped it meant, at least to Pollux, that this was what they weremeantto do. Eventually, his prior exhaustion caught up with him, and he too found some rest.
Adrissu woke about an hour and a half before dawn. Pollux was still asleep next to him, moonlight making his fair skin almost glow. His brow was smooth, no hint of tension or worry on his face, and his eyelids fluttered every so often as his eyes flickered, dreaming. Adrissu hated the prospect of waking him, having never seen him sleep so deeply and relishing the chance to drink in his mate’s beauty—but they had a job to do, one that wouldn’t wait. So, as gingerly as he could manage, Adrissu reached down to stroke his cheek, trailing along the curve of his jaw. With a sharp intake of breath, Pollux’s eyes opened, instantly awake.
“It’s time,” Adrissu murmured. Pollux’s eyes closed, and he took in a deep breath before nodding and getting up with Adrissu.
They dressed by candlelight; armor would provide little protection against a dragon, but still Pollux donned a chain shirt layered between a linen undershirt and a heavy doublet, along with thick leather gloves and boots that guarded his legs past the knee. Adrissu kept his clothes the same as always. They would make no difference in his true form, and if anyone happened to see them leaving the city, they would look less like two unknown soldiers and more like a wealthy man and his bodyguard—a far more forgettable duo.
With the hour being as early as it was and only the light of the moon half-hidden to guide them, they only trekked a short way into the nearby woods before Adrissu transformed, his dark scales blending into the dark night.
“Careful,” he growled, as Pollux strapped himself securely onto his back.
“I know,” Pollux replied tersely, binding them together with a second set of straps. This would be perhaps their most dangerous flight yet.
Adrissu lifted off, the first few flaps of his wings the noisiest, then the sound melted away as they soared up into the cloud cover. He flew silently, feeling Pollux’s knees digging painfully into his sides as the stress of it all was finally catching up to the elf, making his fingers flex nervously over and over against the thick scales of his spine.
“Higher,” Pollux called behind him, the wind carrying his voice away and making him sound distant and faint. “I’m worried he’ll sense you.”
Adrissu made a deep rumble of acknowledgement in his chest, then brought them higher still. Pollux’s mortal constitution lingered anxiously in the back of his head, but the elf seemed fine so far, despite the air growing cold and thin around them.
