His mind was clearer, not so splintered with pain. Oh, the pain was still there, but it was simmering now, not at boiling point. The smell was still there too. It stuck to the back of his throat, burned his nose. Salem had smelled rotting corpses more pleasant than this...
The humming stopped. “Cern!” Aurin called out. “I think he’s waking up.”
Salem tightened his hold on Aurin’s hand, trying with all his might to cling to consciousness. He needed to see Aurin. He needed to see that he was okay, that he was alive and unharmed, and breathing.
He needed...
Sweet mother of pearl.
“I think he’s trying to say something,” Aurin murmured.
“What is that fucking smell?”
Probably not the best of waking utterances, but then Aurin laughed, and when Salem cracked his eyelids, he was gifted with the most gloriously beautiful vision. Aurin in the sunlight, laughing, his golden hair like a halo, his amber eyes shining with tears.
“Oh, Salem,” he said. Then he touched Salem’s face, the softest of caresses, as if Salem were made of glass. “You’re awake. Are you okay? In any pain? Tell me where it hurts. I’ve missed you. I thought I’d lost you. I was so scared.”
“Hop out of the way, little one,” Cern said as he shuffled in. He peered down at Salem’s face. “Good to see you back with us. This world ain’t done with you yet, boy.”
Salem groaned.
“How you feeling?” Cern asked.
“Like death chewed me up and spat me out,” Salem mumbled.
He felt his hand being squeezed, which drew his gaze back to Aurin. Sweet Aurin, sitting there, clasping Salem’s hand in both of his, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
“Hey,” Salem whispered.
“Hey,” Aurin said, his chin wobbling, and a tear rolled down his cheek.
Cern stepped back and put his hands on Aurin’s shoulders. “This one hasn’t left your side for a minute. Needs to get in the water but refused. As stubborn as he is pretty.” He gave Salem a warm smile. “I’ll give you two a few minutes.”
He walked out, but Salem couldn’t take his eyes from Aurin. “He is stubborn,” he murmured. “And pretty.”
Aurin wiped away another tear. “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry, my love.” He squeezed Aurin’s hand again and threaded their fingers together. “I’m here.” Then he looked around the room. The walls were rustic wood and old stone, like they were in a cabin or they’d gone back in time. The furniture was made from branches and logs, the curtains looked to be hemp or something similar, same as the bedding. He could see trees through the window. “Where am I?”
“In the mountains,” Aurin said. “This is Cern’s place. The one he stays in when he comes up here, anyway. There are afew houses, if that’s what you’d call them. I’ve met some of the people here. They seem nice, if not a bit wary. Of me, anyhow. They seemed to know who you are, though. They are worried about you also.”
Salem’s blink was slow, already tired again. Or still. “How long have I been here?”
“Four days.”
Four days. Wow.
“I thought she had killed you,” Aurin mumbled.
Salem’s memories poured open; Lusca grabbing him, him trying to morph to loosen her grip. He remembered the feel of her arm, the grotesqueness, the cold. He remembered her squeezing him, shaking him. He remembered seeing the glimmer of Aurin as he followed. He remembered the pressure of the ocean at that depth and the cold that seemed to come from hell itself.
Then it all faded into darkness.
“You defeated her,” Salem said, an easy assumption given he was still alive.
Aurin wiped away another tear. “Not me, exactly. Tobin and Fray, with the Norwegians. They held her off and did a great deal of damage. But then Ciaran and the Maoris arrived and finished her off. Well,” he said as he shrugged. “She didn’t die. They had her in a cage. Cern said someone was coming to take care of her.”
Salem was almost too scared to ask. “Did... did everyone make it home?”
