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The shaman turned to him. “You must go now.”
“But you haven’t finished! I need to know. I must know what happened! Is it possible to return to the old way of things? To share the power so that it doesn’t nearly kill me every time?”
“You must go,” the shaman repeated.
“But I have to know.” Desperation boiled in his chest, bitter on his tongue. His mug landed on the floor and he leaned across the fire, reaching, grasping, trying to snag hold of the man.
But he slipped away. Náli’s fingers closed on empty air – just as a strong hold clamped around his middle and pushed all the air from his lungs.
The world went white to the sound of Valgrind screeching.
He couldn’t move, couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t–
Air filled his lungs in a rush, and his eyes popped open as he started to choke. Hands lifted him upright, and then thumped him hard on the back as he coughed up water.
As his vision cleared, he became aware that he was sitting on cold, hard granite, and that someone had draped his robe over his naked lap. When he could lift his head, breathing in harsh gasps, he saw that he was seated beside the pool, surrounded by his entire Guard, while Valgrind stood behind them, shaking water off his frills.
Náli lifted the robe to wipe his face, and scowled at each of them in turn. “What the bloody hell are you doing?” His heart still galloped in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his limbs. He had to go back! He had to hear the rest of the story!
Mattias knelt beside him, and had been the one to help him clear the water in his lungs; his hand rested still on Náli’s bare back. His expression was thunderous. “Us?” His voice was low and deadly-smooth; at another time, Náli would have shrunk back at the sound of it. “What the bloody hell were you doing?” Mattias hissed. “Besides coming down here alone to die all by yourself!”
When he first woke up this morning, those words and that tone would have made him flinch. Mattias was the only person whose approval had ever mattered to him.
But what he’d learned today trumped all else.
“I wasn’t alone,” he snapped, and lurched forward to get to his feet.
Mattias, infuriatingly, caught his elbow and assisted him. “Náli–”
“Stop that.” Náli smacked him away and stepped clear, robe balled up in his hands. He fixed his captain with a snarling glare. “I wasn’t alone, I said.”
Mattias, half incredulous and half anguished, flung out an arm in Valgrind’s direction. “You had that animal, you mean? You came down here to cross over in the company of a dumb beast?”
Valgrind echoed the furious huff that left Náli’s nostrils, only much, much louder. Náli was aware of one of the others – Darri, he thought – cursing and edging away from the drake in the background.
He was aware, too, that he was overreacting, just as Mattias was.
There was nothing for it, though.
“That beast,” he said, pointing, “can cross over the veil, same as me. Did you know that? No. Or perhaps you don’t care. Perhaps your tiny mind” – Mattias flinched, an infinitesimal twitch of brows and mouth – “is so closed to the possibility that things might not be–”
Klemens stepped neatly between them, facing Náli. “That’s enough,” he said, calm and firm.
Náli bristled. “What? I will not be–”
“My lord,” he interrupted again, face smooth, hands lifted to a placating angle. “Are you well?”
“What do you think?”
“Are you harmed physically?” Klemens persisted. “Were you harmed in the Nágrindr?”
Náli ground his back teeth and didn’t grace that with an answer. Held out his arms instead and turned for inspection, trampling his now-crushed robe into the granite floor and flaunting his flawless, naked form.
“I see that you were not,” Klemens said, mildly, when they faced one another again. “It’s late, my lord. Perhaps it would be best to all seek our beds and reconvene in the morning.”
“Yes,” Náli said with a sneer. “We’ll reconvene. One of you can wipe my nose and another my ass like a babe in swaddling clothes. One can play mum and one can play daddy and if you’re not all too busy fucking one another someone can lecture me about what I may do in my own home. Mattias tends to take point on that position, but who’s to say another of you isn’t a nursemaid in waiting, hm?”
