“Bed,” Darien said after a few breaths, as his shaking eased. “Right fucking now.”
Sadly, no fucking now. Silas allowed one eye to droop in a wink, to let Darien imagine the pun he wasn’t saying, and Darien nudged Silas’s hip with his own. Grim snorted but said nothing.
Conservator Kell gestured, and the red circle came down just long enough for them to step past, before rising behind them. A crowd of the locals stood in the doorway, and more in the hall, but they parted to let the three of them and their familiars through. Silas could hear a dozen low-voiced conversations but hadn’t the focus to catch a word of it. Jojo trotted ahead of them. “This way. I’ll show you to your rooms.”
Silas managed to put one foot ahead of the other, keeping a hand under Darien’s elbow and an arm around Jasper. Grim got underfoot and Silas tripped, dragging them all to a halt. “What the hell, cat?”
“Look up.” Grim’s tone held only a shade of his usual acid.
Silas realized they had reached one of the archways he and Jasper needed to duck under.
“I thought you might not choose to whack your head, on top of the backlash effect.” Grim licked a paw.
“Oh. Yes. Thank you.”
“Familiars take care of our sorcerers,” Pip said solemnly. “I would’ve warned Darien, except he’s not so tall.”
“You and me,” Darien mumbled, swaying in place. “Short but mighty.”
Silas bent lower, tugged Jasper with him, and grinned at Darien. “Come along, Short-but-mighty. Our beds await.”
But when they reached their room, Silas decided he had no intention of making that beds— plural. He had just enough focus left to drag all the fabric into one giant pile before lowering Darien onto it. As Darien curled into the softness with murmurs of “Bed. Yes. So good,” Silas unlaced Darien’s boots and tugged them off, shed his own footwear, and finally let himself get horizontal.
Pulling Darien’s already-snoring body close against his chest, he said, “Grim, please watch the door. Curtain. Thing.” And then his magic told him firmly he’d done enough for one day and sucked him down into darkness.
***
Darien had become addicted to waking with his nose close to Silas’s skin. Although he preferred it when his head wasn’t throbbing like an army of dwarves were hammering on his skull and when his stomach wasn’t trying to gnaw its way out through his backbone. He took a long breath against Silas’s shoulder and sat up. The slide of fabrics under him was a sharp reminder of where they were.
Pip raised his head from where he’d curled up on the makeshift bed and sat up too. “Are you awake? Are you hungry? We fetched some of the food. I didn’t eat it.” He dug his nose under one of the foil packs strewn nearby and flipped it into Darien’s lap.
Darien didn’t care what it was, just tore it open with shaking hands and stuffed the— poundcake, sure, why not— wonderful calories in his mouth.
Silas sat up with a shout and a swing of his arm that nearly knocked Darien over.
“Hey,” Darien mumbled through the cake, as he dodged. “Don’ waste the food.”
“Sorry.” Silas rubbed his face with both hands. “Disoriented for a moment. Is there more?”
Grim came across the room, picked up a packet with his teeth, and dropped it at Silas’s side. “Eat cake. Lots of eggs and butter in it.”
Between them, Darien and Silas munched their way through cake, walnuts, bread, and cheese, and all the water left in their thermoses. Slowly, the percussion in Darien’s head eased. He hefted the last package. “Did you leave some for Jasper? Is he okay?”
“Yes. And Magda.” Grim tapped at the foil with his paw. “There’s a couple of days’ worth left in your packs. You might as well get up to fighting strength.” He cocked his head at Silas. “Or demon-banishing and world-gating strength.”
Darien handed his last package to Silas. “Sounds like you’re going to need it most. I’m getting another drink.”
The water in the washroom alcove tasted flat and ran lukewarm, and it was wonderful. Darien refilled the cup of his thermos over and over, until his bladder sloshed and he couldn’t hold more. He made use of the hole in the floor and returned to the bedroom. Silas met him at the doorway, ducking to go past but then turning. Silas hugged him hard, murmuring hoarsely against Darien’s hair, “I’m ready to be done with adventures for a bit. You?”
“Hell, yeah.” He gave Silas a hard squeeze, then stepped back. “You get a drink and freshen up. I’ll check on Jasper and meet you at the demon.”
Silas choked a laugh. “He says casually… Yeah, meet you at the demon.”
Grim stayed behind to guide Silas, while Pip led Darien to Jasper’s room. The pile of fabric on his floor was empty, though.
“Oh, good,” Pip said. “I guess he’s better. Come on.”
The hallway they followed led to a crowd of local beings having a series of loud discussions, a multitude of colorful arms waving in front of a tall, now-curtained doorway. As they got close, several of the nearest turned to them. “One of the humans!” a short and wide person shouted. “I have numerous questions of the utmost importance—”
“Mine have priority,” a taller person said. “As a matter of thaumaturgical security.”
Pip jumped up and down in front of Darien. “We need to go in there. Not answer questions.”
The taller person stretched his body and neck to peer down on Pip. “You have no authority—”
“But I do.” Conservator Kell appeared in the doorway, pulling the curtain aside, his voice loud enough to quell the others. “Darien, Pip, come inside immediately. Where’s Silas?”
“Coming along with Grim.” Darien hurried to wind through the reluctantly parting crowd. “Is there a problem? Do you need him?”
“Not immediately.” Kell held back the door curtain wider for them, then let it fall closed behind.
Darien checked quickly. Demon, safe behind a new bright-red power circle, though it doesn’t look calm. The demon bounced around the circle, throwing itself at the walls here and there with no obvious effect. Darien wondered if it’d been doing that all night. At least someone had taken over from Magda, but the local sorcerer holding that circle must be exhausted. He glanced at Kell, but if it was his magic, he showed no sign of the strain.
Now, where’s everyone? He scanned the room. There! Magda and Lyyll and Kii and Xsing and— yes!— Jasper. Jasper’s hair was a mess, the frost of gray showing more than ever, and his shoulders looked bowed, but his hand gestures as he talked with Magda, Lyyll, Xsing, and another local, were as sharp and enthusiastic as ever.
Darien strode over to them. “Jasper. Good to see you on your feet.” He shook Jasper’s hand, relieved at the strength of his grip, and clapped him on the arm. Does he look older? I think so. Still, there was a lot to be said for alive and thinking clearly. Darien resolved not to hunt for a mirror, not to worry or care, if he’d aged too. He couldn’t resist a look at his own hands, though. As far as he could tell, his skin was no thinner or more wrinkled than before. If we lost a few years, it’s for a hell of a good cause.