Twenty-Six
CLAYTON
Going through Mal’s portal was much easier the second time around. Instead of feeling like he was being torn apart and remade, Clayton spent the endless time during the transition freaking right the fuck out.
What in the name of the gods had Clayton been thinking when he’d attacked Marshall? If he ever returned home, he’d be lucky if the only thing that happened to him was getting the creamed corn kicked out of him. The Guard wasn’t big on allowing members to get away with any form of disrespect toward its guardians.
They were the right arm of their god Vis, the creator of all dreamwalkers. One of the very few rules of the Guard was to never get in the way of a guardian doing their job, and Clayton had just done that in spades.
Clayton spent so much time fretting over it that he’d completely forgotten to worry about how he was going to helprescue his family. He got his chance as he stepped out of the portal, dizzy but able to stay on his feet, into a massive cavern.
It was dimly lit by thousands of tiny multi-colored lights clinging to walls that seemed to shift and melt into fathomless shadows. The more he tried to focus on his surroundings, the less it made sense, so he kept his eyes on the ground as much as possible so he wouldn’t be sick.
What the hell was Clayton supposed to do in this situation?
“Astraea?” Clayton whispered, hoping that his new best friend would tell him what to do, but there was no response. Either she couldn’t hear him or had decided to bugger off and leave him to his own devices.
Mal gave a soft laugh when he realized what Clayton had been trying to achieve. Then he put a hand on the back of Clayton’s neck and squeezed. It was grounding in some indefinable way, so Clayton allowed it without complaint.
After far too little time, Mal removed his hand and turned back to their situation, scanning their surroundings. Clayton swallowed his protest. He wasn’t a pampered princess, after all. Just a bit useless.
Mal would be fine against whatever they were up against, and while he didn’t know them, Elena and Naerith seemed like an amazingly cool power couple who could probably fuck up some kidnappers if they felt like it. But Clayton? What was he going to do? Fall on top of the bad guys? Deliver a scathingly proper dressing down regarding their etiquette?
If only Clayton could find a way to turn his massively bad luck into something weaponizable. He’d done it once, but he’d never managed it again after helping to rescue Tommy and Merry.
He could do what he usually did, which was ignore his uselessness until it was so painfully obvious that he had to deal with it.
Yes. That’s exactly what he’d do.
But, because he wasn’t stupid, Clayton stayed behind Mal as they made their way deeper into the cavern, all but clinging to his back. Instead of being grumpy about it, Mal gave a happy sort of rumble and reached back to hold Clayton’s hand.
It was good to have a pet monster. If life was going to fuck him over, at least Clayton got a sexy monster out of the deal.
Yes, Clayton had decided to own it. If he’d screwed the pooch so badly as to alienate Marshall, Clayton might as well go all in and allow himself to do what he wanted. Mal was awful and wonderful, mean and kind, violent and gentle. Oh, fuck it. Mal was just fucking cool.
Clayton had just finally decided to get with the program.
“What’s our plan?” Clayton whispered to Mal when he stopped moving and turned around to face their group.
Mal raised an eyebrow and glanced over his shoulder as if to check and make sure Clayton hadn’t been talking to someone else. “You’re asking me?”
“Of course I am. You’re the fighter in the couple. I’m hero support. It’s only natural for me to follow your lead here. Stop looking at me like that, and close your mouth. You’ll catch flies.”
Mal’s mouth snapped shut, but he still looked at Clayton like he’d transformed into an alien right in front of him.
“We’ll follow your lead too, Mal,” Naerith’s quiet voice inserted itself from beside them.
He and Elena had their backs pressed to a stalagmite, blending into their surroundings with an ease Clayton could only dream of. Elena held her bow ready by her side, and Naerith was empty-handed.
Clayton didn’t think for a second that it meant Naerith was defenseless. His eyes held a lethal gleam that told anyone who could see it that he was there for two things: rescue and revenge. Naerith’s kid was lucky to have such a dedicated father.
Clayton silently vowed to help them find him. He’d probably resent the little fuck behind his back for the rest of his life, but sue Clayton for being petty. He’d earned it.
“I’ll scout,” Mal said. “You two will protect Clayton while I’m gone.” On Naerith’s nod, Mal scattered into a million motes of darkness.
Clayton had to cover his mouth to muffle his gasp of horror. He’d nearly died from having his fear essence sucked out of him just to keep Mal from dissipating, so excuse him if seeing said asshole go and do it for funsies was somewhat traumatizing.
“Is that normal for him?” Elena whispered as she crept over to Clayton’s side.
