Poison and Obedience (3/3)

Rowan began singing. He poured all his concentration into the melody, attempting to collect the death as it spread out around them. Snake-like strands of energy rose toward his hands, but they resisted his efforts to draw them inside of himself. They clung to his fingers and stretched toward his face, aiming for his open mouth.

He turned his face and sang with more urgency, willing the energy into his hands so he could neutralize it with the magic that lived in his body. It retreated slightly, and his knees almost buckled when his body swallowed some of the death. He could hear it screaming in his head, and his vision swam.

They were linked together now, Rowan and the death that wasn't just death.

The cloud of energy yanked on him and dragged him forward on a black leash. The part that roiled on the ground seemed to hesitate, then pressed in on itself. It rushed around Rowan, choosing a different target instead.

Rowan threw himself in front of the writhing tide of blackness and blocked it from his ward with his arms. "Go away from here. Hurry."

He stole a glance at Wren to see him pressing his hands to either side of his head, his fine features twisted in torment. Rowan sung again and yanked back on the leash, absorbing another large swath of energy against its will. Through the ringing in his ears he heard a low droning sound, and it took him a few heartbeats to realize he was moaning as the death merged with his spirit.

At the sound of Rowan's pain, Wren's face stilled, the brief struggle erased by a hardened mask that promised suffering to anyone or anything unlucky enough to have convinced Wren to put it on.

Rowan had heard of this face before. Every member of the Order had been trained to do battle against it should it ever appear tamper with this reality.

The cold beauty of it thrilled him. This was definitely becoming a problem.

Wren lowered his hands in a slicing motion, and unleashed two blood-red streams of magic from his long fingers. His aura crackled with a garnet static that made the hair on the back of Rowan's neck stand on end. The death energy flattened itself to the ground like a terrified animal.

Rowan took advantage of its moment of weakness, drawing most of the remaining death into his body. His bones and muscles felt like they were going to burst as the energy struggled inside him.

Wren turned his mask toward the corpse. As he strode forward, his boot falls momentarily scattered the lingering death at his feet like dust. His magic pulsed at the ready.

"No," Rowan shouted.

He couldn't allow Wren to destroy the body before he'd absorbed every bit of the poison. He wasn't sure if there was a soul left under the mess that the man had become, but if Wren obliterated the corpse, he would take the soul with it.

Wren didn't seem to hear Rowan. His eyes were locked with murderous intent on the body, his movements as unstoppable as an arrow in flight.

Once again, Rowan leapt in front of him. Wren released the energy in a flow almost too swift to see. At the same time, Rowan summoned the reserves of his spirit as a shield and prepared to block Wren's magic, but not before a whisper of red brushed against his shoulder.

He gritted his teeth. He felt as if he'd been set on fire from the inside out. Rowan's shield sputtered, and he used the last of his strength to brace himself as the garnet-red pulse clashed against the pure white of his own spirit.

"Wren! Stop!" Rowan fell to his knees, unable to stand under the ferocity of Wren's attack. The arm that had been touched by Wren's magic hung at his side, useless.

As Rowan hit the ground, Wren came to his senses. His mask crumbled to reveal a look of pure horror. He dropped to his knees in front of Rowan, and his hands fluttered toward Rowan's shoulder like two startled birds.

Rowan slumped to the side. His vision flickered between his shadow sight and a sea of stars in the orderly plane. His breath puffed out of his lungs as he crashed down. The shoulder that was touched by Wren's magic took the brunt of his fall, and tears welled in his eyes as fire surged down his arm and across his chest.

"What did you do? What have I done. I told you not to get in my way." Wren slid forward on his knees in the dirt. His fingers brushed the tears from Rowan's cheek before finding his good shoulder, where they prodded in an effort to roll him to the side.

Rowan pushed his hand away. "I almost have it. Don't touch me." His voice cracked like a whip, warning Wren not to get in the way of him finishing his task.

He stretched his arm out toward the remaining death energy, which had settled to the ground after being kicked up by Wren's boots. He sung it into himself with a shaky melody. As the last last bit of energy merged with the fabric of his being, he shuddered. His body buckled in on itself as a muscle spasm gripped him from his core outward. Rowan closed his eyes against the pain, drifting on the edge of unconsciousness.

"Rowan…my Caretaker. I told you it was poison. Why did you put yourself in the path of my magic?" Wren's fingertips danced over Rowan's forehead, smoothed the hair from his face where it was plastered with sweat to the skin.

Rowan swatted at his hand without opening his eyes. "Don't."

"You don't." Wren captured Rowan's wrist with his fingers and pressed his arm to his side. He hauled Rowan into his lap, and his other hand found its way beneath the collar of Rowan's shirt.

Rowan's eyes snapped open. He began to struggle.

Panic flared in his chest and blocked his throat at the sudden physical contact. The sensation of Wren's skin against his own frightened him more than the poison that was drowning his spirit. "Let me go. I don't want you to touch me."

Wren's arm tightened around Rowan's chest as he flattened his palm against the skin singed by his magic. "What was it you said to me earlier in the garden? Oh yes…hush."

"This is wrong. I have to take care of you. You'll be tainted."

"And who will take care of you?" Wren's hand grew warm, reminding Rowan of the liquid kiss of the garnet-soul as it tended to his injuries that day by the river.

Rowan's teeth began to chatter as the frigid death energy in his body melted into Wren's touch. He knew he must be delirious, because all he wanted at that moment was a word of praise from the Prince of Illusions. "I did it? I got it all?"

"Yes, Master Caretaker. You did a splendid job even though I told you not to. Now let me see what I can do." Wren closed his eyes. His free hand slid under Rowan's collar to press against his sternum. The other still cradled his shoulder. Wren made a soothing sound. "Your heart…I think it's trying to fly out of your chest. You really needn't be afraid of me. How can I make you see that you can't taint anyone?"

Rowan sucked in a breath as the death energy inside him began to unwind. He could feel Wren drawing it out, and he shivered as his own spirit pushed to expel it. Wren's hands were like a hot balm against his skin, thawing him out from those two points of contact.

Unable to bear the conflicting sensations, he arched his back and turned his cheek against Wren's chest.

"Try to hold still." Wren's voice rumbled against Rowan's cheek, huskier than it had been only a moment before. It slid against Rowan's face like frayed silk. "I don't want to take something I shouldn't."

Finally, the pulling on his insides stopped. He felt utterly drained, but mostly like himself.

"How…" Rowan mumbled when he could speak again.

"You absorb death, I absorb life. That energy became one with yours…I simply removed the parts that didn't belong." Wren's fingers kneaded Rowan's shoulder. "How is your arm?"

Death and life. It was as if Rowan was looking into a mirror.

He would have to ask more about it later, when he knew for certain his brain could keep up.

Rowan hissed a breath between his teeth when he tried to rotate his shoulder and was rewarded with a flash of pain and a prickling numbness in his fingertips. "It hasn't been burned to ash, so I'm sure it'll be fine."

"You're lucky. I barely touched you. I think I removed most of the poison, but I can't completely heal the damage inflicted by my own magic. You will need to rest so your body can heal itself. Maybe I will sing to you for a change."

"Can you sing?"

"Not at all." Wren's lips curved gently at the edges.

Rowan blinked up at his ward, only then realizing he was still laying in the young man's lap. And Wren was still rubbing his shoulder, no less. Rowan abruptly sat, ignoring the dizziness in his head and the heat in his face. Humiliation rushed through him as he thought about the way he'd writhed in his ward's arms and crushed his cheek to his chest. Wren's scent still lingered in his nostrils, warm and spicy, like cinnamon cake.

Rowan cleared his throat. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You probably should take a ritual bath when we get home. To be safe."

"Don't be ridiculous. Didn't you hear a word I said?" Wren stood up and held out his hand to Rowan.

Rowan ignored it and pushed himself to his feet. "I'm not being ridiculous. You saw what my magic is about. There is a difference between death and life. I'm not clean. And now, neither are you. You need to stop touching me."

"Now who's the irritating one? Is that any way to say thank you? Death and life are but two sides of the same coin. You must know that in your heart. The Order is wrong on that account, as it is on so many others." Wren sighed and straightened his jacket. "Alas, I helped you, and you still haven't admitted I was right. Let me get rid of this body for you. Then you can express your gratitude double."

"Wait. I need to see if there's a soul." Rowan peered at the broken remains of the corpse with his liminal vision.

He swayed slightly on his feet as he exerted himself too soon. Wren steadied him with a light touch on his elbow. Rowan was too tired to argue about it, so he pretended it wasn't happening.

"Well?" Wren said.

"Nothing."

Wren flicked his finger, and the body disintegrated in a hiss of black and red vapor. "Indeed. Shall I carry you back to the garden? I think you are overestimating your ability to walk considering you can barely stand."

"What? You can't carry me." Rowan took a step back in case Wren was serious.

"Why not…you look light enough. That's why your clothes are so small."

"Now you're being ridiculous. And irritating." Rowan's legs wobbled as he walked, but he held his back straight. "What would give you the impression that I'd ever allow you to carry me?"

"Allow?" Wren said as if he was unfamiliar with the concept, his face a picture of innocence.

Rowan rolled his eyes. "Don't forget you are supposed to be invisible."

"Naturally."

"And stop speaking against the Order."

"That I can't promise."

Rowan shook his head. "At least do as I say until we get home."

"Or?"

"Or…"

"You'd better think of something." Wren grinned. "I love that my obedience pleases you so. It makes me want to continue to give it. Would you show me a real smile then?"

"Obedience. As if you know the meaning of the word." Rowan mumbled under his breath just loud enough for Wren to hear. "And it doesn't please me. I just don't want to have to explain your presence."

"Whatever you say, Master Caretaker." Wren motioned to the road. "Lead the way, and I shall follow."

Rowan eyed the man who'd helped him not once, but twice. He'd follow now…but for how long?