Cat's Quill (41 page)

"We will survive this." Tomas bent his head and softly kissed Cathal, ignoring the smirk Christian was giving both of them. Cathal licked Tomas's lips, tasting him properly, shifting his head slightly, for which Tomas was grateful after breaking the kiss. He needed to be able to think clearly; they both did, although the thought of the distraction was tempting. Besides, there was no way he was giving Christian that kind of a show, whatever the situation.

"Will's condition is deteriorating," Christian interrupted them, still stroking his friend's brow. Will whimpered, whispering his wife's name again before settling back into an uneasy sleep. "This place brings too many bad memories for him. He calls for Amelia, and they feed on his nightmares and the strength he needs to recover. As soon as there is enough light to see, we will need to ride and risk whatever lays in wait. Staying here is too dangerous for all of us."

"There's no one we can call on for help?" Tomas asked. "What about these dragons everyone says they believe in? Are they used by your resistance movement or something?

Cathal sat up and stared at him, the side of his mouth twitching. "Dragons?" He glanced at Christian, whose expression was no better.

"Yes, dragons," Tomas said calmly. Everyone else had said they believed in the bloody things and not got this reaction. He felt his temper flare. "Even Mikey and Wynne were going on about them. So they've got to be here somewhere, right? And we need to use everything we have. Especially with these odds."

"Of course we do." Christian shook his head, smirking. "Especially with these odds."

Cathal leaned over and gave Christian a sharp tap on the arm, glaring at him. "It's an honest mistake, cousin," he chastised.

"Of course it is," Christian agreed, his smirk widening. "Perhaps they hid your knife, Tomas, or even your towel." He winked at Cathal. "I've heard they come in all shapes and sizes. And even lay in your lap if you speak to them nicely."

Tomas opened his mouth to point out that sounded more like unicorns than dragons from the little he knew, then closed it again at the thought of what Christian might do with that tidbit of information. His inexperience in the bedroom was no one's business but his own. And Cathal's.

"Christian!" Cathal was bright red. "That's enough! He was not to know."

"Know what?" Tomas looked from one to the other, deciding that question, at least, was safer than his unspoken one had been. Cathal seemed embarrassed, almost apologetic, while Christian was amused as hell to the extent that wiping that bloody smirk off his face was becoming a certainty rather than an agreeable option.

"There are no dragons in this world, Tomas," Cathal admitted. "Believing in them is the password of our resistance. Believing in them... with my current position amongst them is saying that you believe in...." His voice softened. "That you believe in me."

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Chapter Twenty-Eight

Tomas curled in on himself closer, mumbling to be left alone, trying to ignore the hand persistently shaking him. Why was it so cold? He just wanted to sleep. It was warm while he was asleep. "Just another few minutes," he muttered, "don't want to go to school."

Someone shook him again. He fumbled for the blankets, trying to pull them farther over his head, but he couldn't find them. His mattress was hard, with sharp bits digging into him. He didn't remember the springs being this bad. Slow pain gnawed through his joints whenever he moved. His legs ached; he stretched them out, kicking at whoever was not taking no for an answer. "Go away!"

"Tomas, you need to wake up." The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it. It was warmer like this, safer. The bad things couldn't get him under the blankets. Or better yet, under the bed. He could make a fort under there. Then he'd never have to come out.

"Don't want to." There was no reason to wake up. He could pretend while he was asleep. Imagine having friends who wanted him, who needed him. Most of his friends left him, just as his parents had. It wasn't safe to trust people anymore. Let people in, and they hurt him. It was safer to hide. "Cold."

The darkness was friendly. It would be his friend. It had told him so. It wouldn't leave him. There were animals out in the darkness. They'd play with him. He liked animals. A whimper escaped his lips, a memory. Except cats. Cats were bad. They stole things from him.

No. Not all cats. There was one Cat. No, that wasn't right. Not a cat. "Cat," he murmured. There was a cat. It loved... no, that wasn't right either. This was confusing. It would make more sense in the morning. Later in the morning, when it wasn't so cold.

He rolled over, curling into a ball. Something soft brushed against his lips, freezing yet sending warmth through him, trying to drag him away from the darkness, away from friends that wanted to play with him.

Then the same something or someone wrapped around him, restraining him. It was the same person who'd touched him before, he knew it was. No, he couldn't let that person take him. The darkness wouldn't like it.

He lashed out, fighting, trying to stay with his new friends. Why couldn't this person, this thing, leave him alone? The darkness wanted him. It was warmer than this cold. The light was bad, evil. He had to get free of it. He kicked again, more frantically, trying desperately to be free. A muffled grunt sounded in his ear, but the person restraining him refused to let go. Tomas cried out, yelling to be let go, struggling, lashing out with his arms and legs.

A hiss of pain that was not his own cracked through the air like a gunshot.

"Tomas, please."

Hot breath warmed his ear. He gasped, panting, knowing the voice yet not. He hurt all over and didn't know why. Something brushed against his lips again, wet, sliding, exploring. He opened his mouth, giving access, wanting more. He knew the voice, knew the touch. He wanted to be safe again. This person needed and wanted him. As much he did them.

A groan escaped his lips. In the distance an animal howled, angry, crying. Tomas's eyes snapped open, awareness rushing back, the darkness retreating in the wake of light. Cathal kissed him again and then broke it, still straddling him.

"Welcome back," he whispered, his eyes searching Tomas's face, his voice breaking when Tomas gave him a shaky smile, not sure why but sensing Cathal's need for reassurance. Cathal's voice broke. "I thought I'd lost you."

Tomas blinked, the comment making no sense. He took several deep breaths, his mind playing catch-up, trying to figure out what was going on. He was lying face up on the ground, something hard digging into his back. Cathal was sitting on him, keeping him still, peering down at him anxiously, his face drawn and pale. Thin slivers of light caught here and there through the canopy of trees to either side of them, the sun trying to rise but not quite succeeding.

"What happened?" Tomas asked, his voice croaky; his throat was dry when he swallowed. Cathal managed a shaky smile; his right cheek was red, his hands resting on Tomas's chest, shaking.

"The fire went out. We had no more fuel." Cathal was breathing shallowly. Tomas lifted one hand to caress his cheek, the skin cool under his fingertips, although Cathal winced where he was touched.

"You're hurt." Tomas frowned. He struggled to sit. Cathal slid farther down onto his lap, helping him to change position.

Will was huddled just over from them, his cloak drawn around him tightly. His eyes were bright, almost wild. He looked directly at Tomas but did not appear to register that either he or Cathal were there. "They're still coming," he murmured. "I can't stop them. They're still coming."

"It's nothing." Cathal kept his voice low, glancing over at Will, relaxing a little when Will appeared to refocus enough to give them both a wan smile. "You were asleep. I couldn't wake you." He kissed Tomas again, harder this time. "I didn't know what else to do. Once they claim someone, they don't let go easily."

"You kissed me," Tomas whispered. "I remembered your kiss. I knew I wanted you. More than I wanted...." He shivered, wrapping his arms around Cathal, holding him tightly.

"You chose me over them." Cathal rested his head on Tomas's shoulder. Tomas stroked his hair instinctively, needing to be close. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you. Not even for a moment. I thought.... The horses were spooked. We couldn't risk losing them."

"It's okay, Cat," Tomas reassured him. "No guilt now." His fingers lingered on the angry red mark on Cathal's face. Had he done that when he'd lashed out? God, he hoped not. He brushed his lips against Cathal's very softly, not wanting to risk hurting him further. This was the reality he wanted, not some empty promise of a dream his life had never managed to deliver until now. "We need the horses." He frowned, eyes darting around the clearing, shifting his attention from thoughts he could not afford to pursue. "Where are they? Where's Christian?" Had something else happened that Cathal hadn't told him about yet?

"He went after them. Something cut them loose when we lost the light. I suspect that's what spooked them." Cathal's head came up sharply. "He's coming back. I can feel him." He backed off Tomas, awkwardly getting to his feet. "We need to leave. Once the sun has risen properly, Deryn's soldiers will enter the forest. They can move much faster than we can."

"It's more dangerous here at night, right?" Although Tomas had already traveled through here during daylight, he wanted that confirmed. After the last few days, he didn't trust anything presumed to be accurate. This world had its own rules, and he was painfully aware that he knew next to nothing about them.

"Yes," Cathal confirmed. He frowned, listening carefully, scanning the area around them. "It's too quiet. The sun isn't high enough yet, and the forest is almost silent."

"Maybe they're settling down to rest for the day if they're nocturnal?" Tomas offered hopefully. He'd had enough of these diawl things already, and they were doing a number on Will. His defenses were even lower than theirs against the diawl after the blow he'd taken to his head.

"And give up the chance of a decent meal?" Cathal shook his head. "I doubt it." He grabbed Tomas's hand, pulling him over to Will. "We'll be out of here soon, Will, I promise," he said softly, placing his other hand on Will's shoulder.

Will nodded, his face drawn. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "You should leave me."

"No!" Tomas and Cathal spoke the word together, but it was Cathal who continued. "We're not leaving you. You risked your life to get us out of the keep, not to mention on numerous other occasions." Cathal squeezed Will's shoulder, not quite hiding the wince when he did so. "We've known each other since we were children. You're more than a friend, Will. You're family. Now, no more foolish talk on this matter. You need to save your strength. It will be a rough journey, especially as we have already used the little food we had."

"Someone's coming." Tomas had been keeping one ear on the conversation, not wanting to intrude, and the other scanning their surroundings. A twig snapped, confirming his suspicions. He hadn't been sure whether he'd heard footsteps or not, as they had been very light, almost nonexistent, but he had not wanted to take any chances.

Cathal smiled. "Yes, it's Christian. I felt him earlier, as I said." How far a distance did his ability stretch? Surely five minutes at a brisk walk must have meant Christian had not been that close. "He is definitely out of practice." Cathal shook his head. "Six years ago you would not have been aware of his presence until it was too late."

"Six years ago that horse of yours wouldn't have been slowing me down," Christian interjected, leading Buttercup toward them. She was twitchy, her ears pricked up, her coat glistening with sweat. He stroked her neck, speaking softly to her in a soothing tone. She neighed, still nervous, but seemed to calm somewhat.

"She is no longer my horse." Cathal frowned, looking behind Christian and back at him again. Buttercup's head came up at the sound of his voice. She pulled free of Christian, walking over to Cathal to nuzzle at him. He smiled, running his fingers lightly between her ears. "Sebastian?"

"I was too late." Christian sighed. He ran a hand through his hair; he was shaking. His eyes were red, and he looked exhausted. "Buttercup froze in her usual manner. It saved her life. Sebastian... there was very little left by the time we found him. I should have turned back once I found Buttercup, but I wanted to be sure."

Will shivered. "No one should have to die that way." He crossed his arms, hugging himself. While he was growing more lucid, it was obvious that the concentration required to do so was draining the little energy he possessed. "We should not wait any longer. Deryn has men guarding the borders between her land and yours." He closed his eyes for a moment, swaying. Tomas slipped one arm around his waist to steady him. "She is also aware of the existence of the portal between worlds and will be taking precautions. She will not allow potential leverage to slip through her fingers again."

"I am not potential leverage," Tomas protested indignantly. That bitch was not going to get her hands on Cathal in any shape or form, and definitely not by those means.

"Try telling her that, or better yet, explain the concept to Cat. With you in her hands, he will do anything to keep you safe. We've already seen that, and so has she," Christian pointed out grimly. "If he'll put himself between me and a riding crop, he'd do a lot more to protect you." He frowned, eying Will up and down and ignoring the glare Cathal shot his way.

"A riding crop?" Tomas spluttered, letting go of Will and adding his own glare toward Cathal. Surely not the one he'd seen her with at the keep? If she'd hurt Cathal, he'd bloody kill her. Correction, if she'd hurt him more. He winced, remembering the bruises he'd already seen on Cathal's stomach after being thrown into the cell.

"It was nothing." Cathal shrugged. "Christian got on her wrong side. He's always had a talent for it." His tone changed, his voice becoming very crisp and calm, as it had when he'd taken charge back at the keep. "Will can ride Buttercup, as he is not in a state to walk far. Tomas, could you lead her? Christian and I know these woods, so it would be more advisable for us to follow the trail ahead of you."

"It's not full light yet," Will observed. "Is it safe to bring her further into the forest?"

"No, but we need to risk it to keep some advantage," Cathal decided, avoiding meeting Tomas's eyes. He outlined his plan further. "With your injury, you are susceptible to the diawl, and the rest of us, with lack of sleep and food, are not in a much better position. Once it is full light, she and her soldiers will be upon us." Christian handed the reins to Tomas, not giving him the option to protest, already helping Will to mount.

"So that gets us through the forest, hopefully," Christian agreed. "We still have to get to the border between Riverskeep and Rhopryd. That will not be easy to cross, especially the stretch of open field that is no man's land."

"I'm aware of that, cousin." Cathal frowned, thoughtful. "We also need to reach Rhosynoak itself, to enable safe passage home for Tomas, although once we clear Riverskeep we will be free of her law."

"Rhosynoak? Rhopryd?" Tomas had no idea what either one was talking about, although the idea of being free of Deryn's lands and law was very appealing. However, did that also mean that by reaching Rhosynoak they would be safe?

"Rhopryd are my family's lands," Cathal explained, he and Christian already beginning to walk, leaving Tomas no choice but to follow with Will and Buttercup. "Rhosynoak marks the portal between our worlds." He smiled a little. "It translates into your language as Rose Oak. Generations ago, roses grew there, encircling the oak, but one morning, according to legend, the people awoke to find that the roses had withered and died overnight. No one knows why. It was a long time ago, and such stories are often embellished, if there is any truth left in the telling at all." He paused in his explanation and tilted his head, frowning, but kept walking. "It is still too quiet. I suspect the diawl are merely biding their time, waiting for us to make a mistake. They are watching, and not from afar. We need to keep moving."

"They do not give up a potential food source that easily." Christian gripped the knife in his hand. If these creatures could take down a fully grown, rather large horse easily, two knives would be no match for them. Still, Tomas took some comfort in the weapon in his own hand, even if he had no skill in using it.