Wind and Stone

Chapter 2: Akton

Chapter 2: Akton

There were times when Akton wished he could give Talfryn some of his healing abilities, just wrap his arms around him tight enough and pass it on to him. At the moment all he could offer was the embrace, holding to Talfryn in their makeshift bed on the floor. It had been hours and Akton had asked him to shift before sleep, but Talfryn had refused, and Akton couldn’t really blame him. He’d never shifted to his weasel form at home, even while alone, and he understood Talfryn not wanting to become a vulnerable salamander here.

Talfryn had been exhausted when they laid down not more than ten minutes ago. Akton had watched him drift off to sleep, amber eyes closing, rich brown face relaxing, body giving up its tenseness under Akton’s arm. He closed his eyes as well, waking to find he’d rolled over and Talfryn was curled up against his back.

“There you are,” said a voice Akton placed after a few moments as the midwife’s.

She’d eventually arrived, a middle-aged white woman who looked more awake than Akton had expected, considering she’d been at another birthing when his father had found her. Talfryn had been relieved to let her take over so he could wash up, fall exhausted into bed.

“He’s asleep,” he said, but Talfryn yawned and sat up.

“I’m awake enough to know if Lily made it,” he said, and Akton swallowed. He didn’t want to think about what his sister would be like without her wife by her side. The midwife sighed.

“Yes, though as you know, it was a close one. She might yet die. Only had one person come back for me after losing that much blood. Not sure when it stopped. What’s that spell you used?”

Talfryn indicated his pack and Akton rose to retrieve a packet to give the woman. He knew that was not what had saved Lily—Talfryn had mentioned using his flame powers, and Akton didn’t like to think about it—but he wasn’t about to tell the midwife he was a shifter, either. She took the packet, opened it, smelled it. Talfryn listed off the ingredients and offered what he had to her.

“Do you want me to have a look at the baby again?” he asked. Akton stood and peered out the window to late morning light.

“No, no,” said the midwife, shaking her head. “She’s fine. Just wanted to know what you did. I’d better get back to Lily now.”

They stayed longer than usual, several weeks, Talfryn and the midwife taking turns watching over Lily for several days before the midwife left. Akton was itching to get going again—he and Talfryn were still figuring out their style of doing things, and he hated remaining in one place for too long. This didn’t seem to distress Talfryn much, who was probably used to staying put from when he assisted his mother at the apothecary back in Teorg. But Akton had been on the move since he was very young, trapping and trading, making supply runs and generally never staying too long in one place.

When Talfryn told Lily and Myrna what he’d done, they cried. Talfryn had spent the entire day out of the house and Akton hadn’t bothered looking for him.

“They have two children already,” he said when Talfryn returned for bed.

“I wouldn’t remind them of that,” said Talfryn. “Not now, at least.” He paused. “Tomorrow?”

“What about it?” asked Akton, unsure whether he should wrap his arm around Talfryn or not. Another thing that made him so itchy about being here was the lack of s*x. They could probably manage something, either in a back room or out in the woods, but he wouldn’t have been very interested in it and he suspected Talfryn knew it. Consequently, snuggling made him hard every time now.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Akton wasn’t about to argue with that. They packed up the next day and left, heading down the path back toward Teorg. Mostly in the two months since they’d been back they traveled between his home and Talfryn’s, bringing news and medicine, trading for people. Everyone seemed to want something, seemed to need Talfryn’s talents or potions. It occurred to Akton that if they weren’t doing it all for free they could make a decent profit. But neither of them cared to accept any p*****t beyond food and place to stay.

He knew it still wore on Talfryn as much as on him what they’d done. They had killed a lot of people. True, it had been to save Emylnor, and he didn’t think it had been the wrong decision—he simply wished he hadn’t been in the place where he had to make it.

“Stop for Eizyn?” asked Talfryn as they came upon the ruins of a town. This had been the closest real village to Akton’s home, though it had still been smaller than Teorg. Akton silently pulled up his horse and dismounted.

After the winter, it was more difficult to see where the buildings had been. The ashes were mush or dried mush, bits of green poking through as spring insisted on reclaiming the land. Akton walked through the place, remembering the people he knew, refusing to think of watching Eizyn burn. It had been what had gotten him mixed up in everything.

But that had meant it had brought him and Talfryn together, too. He returned to his horse and got back on.

“Thanks,” he said to Talfryn, who merely nodded. Akton leaned over, grabbed Talfryn’s shoulder, and brought them together for a kiss. Overhead, birds sang.