“Precisely.” The sorcerer leaned forward with the breathless excitement of a buzzard on a carcass. “Which means . . . ?”
I swallowed another mouthful to get out of answering. Frustrated, Merulo continued, “Whichmeansthat the colonies on Mars, and the moon—that moon, right there.” He pointed accusingly into the sky. “They could be active, cut off from Larnia by whatever barrier has been erected. And all our knowledge, our cultures and languages, everything presumably lost on the Day of Descent—the religions you can scarcely imagine after this forced, homogenous worship of a monster—the moon could be their ark.”
“Or they could be dead,” I said, the drink making me bold. “It could be a tomb, like the resort. Eat some liver, you need it.”
“Ahh.” Merulo followed the meat with a cleansing draught of wine. “It’s possible. But I’d like to think they’re alive.” He motioned the goblet at me, sloshing out half its contents. “And if so, I’ll be returning their home to them.”
“They will sing the praises of the mad sorcerer,” I agreed, discreetly shuffling toward his rock perch.
“Why do they call me that?” The mad sorcerer noticed his diminished wine with a gloomy lowering of his brows. “I’ve always been quite coherent. Kill God, restore the world. Where’s the madness?”
“They’re haters.” With a carefully calculated scoot, I shoved my way onto the rock beside him. “Ignore them.”
The sorcerer was too deep in his thoughts to protest my arm snaking about his shoulders. “Even if these stars are fake,” he said. “They may be the only ones I ever see.”
My resolve snapped. “Don’t do it.” I fought to keep my voice steady. “Honestly, why should you have to carry all this? If it’s a problem—and I’m not saying it’s not—someone else will step up to fix it.”
“When?” Merulo leaned into me, and having braced for his fury, I fell silent. “It’s been a thousand years. I know how you feel, but let’s not fight about this. Not tonight.”
After a long silence, I managed to say, “Okay,” and brought my mouth to his.
Abruptly, he pulled away. I tried not to audibly sigh as his face hardened, some internal wall sliding back into place. We hadfinallybeen getting to the good stuff!
“I lied,” he said.
Surprise brought me to a standstill. My mind swam, bleary under the alcohol. “About the moon?”
“No. Why would I—? No, about that horrible little elf.” Merulo scowled, and my face contorted in an echo of his. As former friends went, I didn’t rank Glenda highly.
And then it connected. “You mean, she told you, that . . .” I paused to swallow and compose myself. “So she did tell you, then? You received my, uh, last words?”
The sorcerer left our perch and stood, silhouetted by the full moon. “That you loathe me. Yes.”
“Loathe?That’s what she—? Oh fucking fuck, Glenda.” I pushed myself off the rock to join him. “Well, actually, that might be my fault, I didn’t get the word fully out before, you know . . .” I drew a finger across my neck, in case he did not, in fact, know.
This, at least, got Merulo to look away from his damn moon. “Then you don’t loathe me?”
I wanted to cry from exasperation, or perhaps slap his gaunt cheek. “You can’t think of any other word it might have been? Come on, Merulo, you’re the intellectual here.”
His thin lips moved as he sounded out possibilities. I gave him time, shifting my weight from one foot to the other with accompanying crunches from the sand.
“Loathe is the only word that makes sense.” The night did his face no favours, shadows collecting in the lines that gave his mouth its perpetual scowl. “I am not entirely without self-awareness. And I do want to, ah”—he choked on the word—“apologize. For the needle. I have no qualms in using violence against those who would destroy me, but against someone sopitiful, who was under my control?” The sorcerer pursed his lips. “It was tasteless. I regret it.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “It was a completely undeserved punishment.”
The sorcerer’s frown deepened, and his mouth twisted, but heroically, he managed to refrain from comment.
Despite my prodding, I found that I also couldn’t bring myself to say the word. “It really wasn’t loathe.”
“I have done nothing to inspire any other feelings.” A thought seemed to strike him. “Unless . . .lust?”
“LOVE,” I shouted. “For fuck’s sake, it was love! You think my final message would have been a come on? Really and truly not a situation where any movement could occur down there.”
“Well,” said the sorcerer. “One never knows, with you.”
A tense quiet followed, both of us staring at the round white moon. It was that or risk accidental eye contact.
“Hydna will be opening the portal soon,” Merulo said, after a time.
