“What?” Finnvid asked. “You don’t want a bath?”
“I want you,” Theos said. He still sounded confused, or even angry, but he seemed to be trying to talk through it. “You know that, right? You’re . . . special. I want you like I don’t want the others. I want to—to protect you? Sometimes. And sometimes I want to strangle you, but less of that, lately. I like talking to you, and sometimes I even like listening to you. You make me think about things I don’t really want to think about, but I know that I should. I’m . . .” He frowned, clearly consulting something fairly deep inside himself. “I’m better. Because of you. You’re good for me.”
“Like medicine.”
“Like broth,” Theos said, and he grinned, wide and true and beautiful. “But better. Like a big meal, and itstartswith broth, and I get impatient because that’s a waste of everyone’s time, but then the good stuff comes. And it’sreallygood, and it makes me strong,and even though I don’t know all the flavors yet, I like it. Ilikethat I don’t know all the flavors.”
Finnvid nodded. It was more, much more, than he’d expected. Theos didn’t have a word that meant what Finnvid wanted; he didn’t even seem to have the concept. But he had something of his own, and he’d gone out of his way to share it. He’d struggled to express an unfamiliar emotion because he somehow knew Finnvid needed to hear about it. So Finnvid smiled, and leaned back, and kissed Theos, then tugged on his hand again. “Good. Thank you. Now, a bath. You stink.”
Theos moved this time, and they walked through the streets together, both of them quiet. Finnvid repeated Theos’s words over in his mind, committing them to memory. And he repeated them in his heart, and committed them to Theos.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Xeno looked as if he hadn’t slept in days, but he was eager and alert as Theos explained their plan, such as it was. “The Sacrati don’t need to hear what I say, do they?” Theos asked from his seat inside the temple’s soaker tub. “The warlord killed the captain without a trial, so the Sacrati are ready to fight. Right?”
“We are,” Xeno said, and Theos could see that it was true. He had some questions about why they hadn’t already taken action; he supposed they’d been trying to find a way to avoid a civil war, just as he was.
“So you won’t come to the city tomorrow, but don’t be obvious about it. Then . . . Do you know where they’re holding Andros?”
“We have some ideas.”
“Figure it out. But don’t break in, don’t attack. Let’s give them the chance to solve this peacefully, if we can.”
Xeno nodded grimly. “Lastchance,” he said.
“Aye. I’ll do what I can with the soldiers. Hopefully they’ll listen, and we’ll arrest the warlord and his inner circle—if you have names for that list, let me know—and we’ll let Andros go. But if things don’t go well in the city, it’ll be time to fight. Bust in, get Andros free, and then . . . you know what happens then.”
“We fight other Torians,” Xeno said. He sounded like he was still having trouble believing it.
“Or don’t. Maybe you just head for the mountains and try to find another way. But you’ll be leaving your children behind, and the women who bore you those children. Your mothers and sisters.” Theos shrugged. “I’ll probably be dead by the time you realize things have gone wrong, but if I’m not? I’ll be fighting.”
Xeno nodded grimly. “Aye,” he said. Then he turned to Finnvid, who’d been sitting quietly in the bath, soaking, while Theos and Xeno talked. “And you?” Xeno asked. “Is there a plan to get you back to your people if this goes wrong?”
“I’m with my people,” Finnvid said. “As much as I have any. I’ll be beside Theos, fighting as well as I can.”
Xeno nodded. “That’s all any of us can do, I suppose. We’ll pick our side, and we’ll fight as well as we can.”
Theos slipped along the submerged bench and ducked his head under the stream of clean water coming into their tub. Xeno was ready to fight. The rest of the Sacrati were ready.Finnvidwas ready. Ready to fight and die, for revenge? Or to defend some stupid ideal and maintain a way of life that Theos was already starting to question himself?
Theos had to stop the warlord without starting a war. He wasn’t suited for giving speeches; better to persuade someone with a fist and a sword than with words. But once blood started to flow, even a trickle, he feared it would turn into a river. The whole valley was tense and ready, and if he gave them an excuse . . . if things got started, they’d take a long time to finish.
The water was too hot on his face, but he stayed under as long as he could, and when he finally emerged, he saw Xeno rising from the stool he’d pulled over to the side of their tub.
“We’ll be ready,” he said to Theos. “Whatever happens. Your brothers are with you.”
Theos stood, and they gripped each other’s forearms. The two of them had never been especially close, drawn together more by their shared affection for Andros than anything else, but in that moment Theos’s gut tightened at the thought of never seeing Xeno again, a churning anxiety about getting him killed, along with all the other Sacrati. All Theos’s other brothers.
Xeno left, and Theos sank back onto the bench. He needed to scrub himself, needed to shave and find clean clothes, needed to figure out what possible words he could use to persuade disciplined, well-trained soldiers that they needed to defy their commander. It was too much; it was impossible. He was a warrior, not a politician. He was going to fail, and so many men,Torianmen, would die because he wasn’t who they needed him to be.
Then Finnvid moved, shifting over so he was straddling Theos and staring right at him. “Stop worrying,” Finnvid commanded.
Theos just groaned. As if it was possible for him to forget about it all, to just turn his brain off—
“I want us to fuck,” Finnvid said, and suddenly Theos’s mind was empty.
“What?” he managed. The words had seemed clear, but this wasn’t something Theos wanted to have misunderstood.
“I said the word,” Finnvid said with the beginnings of a sly grin. “Do I need to say it again? Theos, I want to fuck. I want to use my hand and my mouth, and then I want us to fuck.”
