For what remains, he is my focus, and nothing else.
He’s getting a lock to protect my peace. What can I do to protect his?
I narrow my eyes, katas churning in my mind.
When we get to the mountain, I’ll be ready.
Ourpathupthemountain is pretty silent.
I’m sure we both have a lot of processing to do, but we could do that out loud.
But Zan’s not ready to talk about anything that matters yet.
And I have a lot of knowledge and am pissed off at any number of people, myself included, and so this trail to our cottage is gaining wards as fast as I can cast them.
Let people who try to pass without my blessing feel wrath fall on them and turn away.
They know now that the Sage of Wrath was here. It can be explained away.
And more importantly, it’ll keep anyone but those with magical defenses—Teren, Nomi with Zan’s scales, or the Order—from casually interrupting our lives.
So Zan broods, and I lash out at the world without it giving me the satisfaction of lashing back, and then finally we’re back at the cottage and he’s like, “Let me figure out how to install this—”
And my patience has run out.
“Nomi can do it tomorrow,” I tell him as I rip the bow out of my hair. “No one’s going to interrupt us tonight without a warning. You need to tell me what the shit is going on.”
Zan freezes.
Then he lowers his hand, and the lock, down to the table with a thunk.
His disguise dispels, thankfully.
But he still doesn’t look like himself, because his head droops too, before he squares his shoulders to look at me.
Gods, what could possibly be this bad?
“I know we’ll have to figure out how you can still transform here safely,” I say. “And I know, long-term, we’ll have to figure out some way for me to not leave you—”
Zan lets out a crack of laughter.
I pause.
That wasn’t the joyful sound I’ve worked to earn from him.
That was bitterness given form.
“Do you feel anything,” Zan says tonelessly, “when we touch?”
So many things.
I feel warmth—of multiple kinds.
I feel like there is one person in the world who sees me and is with me.
I feel like where I am meant to be.
“Yes,” I say simply, because I do know what he means.
