Wed to the Wild God (Aspect and Anchor)

Seth's expression is pure ice. "You are a fool. We were here to seek power, and we have grasped it in our hands. Take your victory lap. Watch as I strip the power from your most hated enemy and revel in her despair. This is what we have worked so hard for. This is what we have strived to attain!"

But Kassam ignores Seth's rantings. It's like he tunes him out completely. Instead, he turns to me and gently cups my chin, studying my tear-stained face. "Are you tired, little light? Shall we go?" His voice is incredibly gentle. "Say the word."

Oh. "I'm ready if you are," I promise him. "I'm not too tired to leave." The thought of getting back onto the griffin again makes my sore butt want to scream, but if the alternative means we stay in this madness, I'll gladly climb onto the back of anything that will fly me out of here. I want nothing more than to leave this horrible, slaughtered city behind.

And if I do, I can only imagine how badly Kassam wants to get away.

He nods, then gently kisses me on the lips. "Then we will go."

"Fool," Seth calls again, furious, even as more screams arise from the treehouse. "Weak fool!"

Kassam ignores him, leading me over to the waiting griffin. He climbs onto its back with ease, then holds a hand down to help me up. As I wrap my arms around him, I see the conmac melt into the shadows, slinking away, and it seems to me that for the first time, there is approval in their yellow eyes. Then the griffin takes off and we are into the air once more.

I hold tightly onto my husband, and I'm glad this day is over.

48

We don't fly for long. I'm weary, and I can only imagine Kassam is, too. The griffin lands again a short time later, back into the forest. He settles us into a clearing near water, then begins to preen his feathers. Kassam glances around, turning, and then nods. "We will head north in the morning," he tells me. "Tonight, we will stay here and rest."

I glance around. It seems peaceful enough, but there's an angry stain of smoke in the distance that tells me we're not all that far from the burning corpse of Hrit Svala. I watch the griffin as it smooths its feathers with a sharp beak, as if it's just another day. I'm glad he can recover so quickly, at least. I think I'm going to be dreaming about the bodies dangling off the platforms at Hrit Svala for years to come.

Or not…since I can't dream.

I eye Kassam. He's covered in soot and his tangled hair looks wilder than ever. He's still naked—always is—but there's something hollow in those silver eyes, something tired and weary. It calls to me, and I move toward him, taking his hand. "Are you all right?"

He shrugs, his shoulders slumped. "I do not know, little light. Today, I did not feel like myself."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Do you feel like you should, though?"

"Probably." He gives me a ghost of a smile. "Is this a mortal thing? Talking about when you are troubled?"

I shake my head, taking his hand and pulling him toward the stream. "It's a husband and wife thing. You tell me your concerns and I'll tell you mine. Sometimes sharing them helps ease the burden a little." As I move to sit by the stream, a small songbird flutters toward us, heading straight for Kassam's horns. It pauses at the missing one, as if surprised to find it gone, and then settles in atop the other. For some reason, the bird seems to cheer Kassam up a bit, some of the tension in his shoulders easing. "What happened to your horn?" I ask. "Did someone attack you?"

"Many did," he admits. "I defended myself. After a while…I no longer saw faces. It is one of many things that bother me about this day." His thoughtful gaze turns to me. "And you."

"Me what?"

"I felt your pain. When I was in the city, I felt the agony tearing through you. You smiled so bravely for me and said nothing, even as I wrenched and wrenched from you, taking more than I ever should have." He settles down onto the grass next to me, and I notice his hooves are scarred and one is split. "I hurt you for my vengeance. I did not stop to think about how wrong this was, until much later. And now I cannot stop thinking about it."

"I'm okay," I say automatically.

"Are you?" The look he gives me is knowing.

I shrug. "I mean, I'm already dead, so it's not like things were worse. It hurt, but it hurts less now. And I didn't want you to come this far just to have everything fail. I wanted to help you see it through." I pull off my shirt and swirl it in the water so I can wash him off. "I wanted to finish something, you know?"