"He's a homo, you mean," said big man. He spat. "So much for Suneater."
Kieran was tired of their weirdness. "I think you need to leave now," he said. "I think if you don't get the fuck out of here now I'm going to shoot you."
The biggest bum met Kieran's stare for one moment, then went gray-faced. He grabbed his still mumbling and singing child by the arm and shoved it down the beach, away. The other two caught on quickly. With many glances back, they made their way slowly off along the riverbank, and eventually disappeared into some cut or side channel. When they were out of sight, he put the gun away. He gave Ash all his attention, trying to will some color back into that waxy face.
Most people, he thought again, wouldn't describe Ash as handsome. Because they associated rusty curls and freckles with some image of awkward childhood, or because he was so frail-looking. It had taken Kieran a while to see. But now -- the delicate lines of him, the colors, the shape of his lips, the sound of his breath -- he was a pearl, a thread of gold, a ruby. To expect for one moment to be allowed to keep this treasure, Kieran was certain, would be insane.
"Those were some pretty strange people, huh?" He made his voice soft. He supposed it didn't matter what he said, as long as he said it quietly. "You know, it's weird to think there are all these places in the world, all with their own different stories. You'd think that would kinda prove that they're all wrong. But I know some of ours are true. So maybe theirs are true too, and things are just different all over. Like if there actually were all these different gods, before the Dalanists chased 'em out. Where do you figure a god goes when it gets evicted?" He used his kerchief to wipe Ash's face again, though the cloth had dried out and wasn't doing much good. It would have been awkward to get up and go wet it. Besides, he didn't feel like letting go, just now.
"I really need you to wake up, Ashes. We can't stay here. We shoulda been gone already. This fainting shit has to stop, too. If you don't wake up pretty quick here..." Kieran didn't finish the threat. The hell you're gonna leave him, Trevarde. You can't even take your hands off him.
Well, if trouble came, he'd deal with it then. He wrapped his arms more tightly around Ash's narrow shoulders and rocked him slowly. Hummed in the back of his throat, songs with no purpose, starting in the middle and not finishing. Little by little, his posture bent so his face was pressed into Ash's hair. He put his lips to Ash's clammy forehead. Tasted his eyelids, feeling the eyeballs twitch and jerk beneath. Picked up Ash's hand, ran his thumb across the palm. Doing this hurt a little, somewhere under his ribs.
"Ashes, please. We have to get moving. Wake up. Please. For me. I'm asking as a favor, all right?" Kieran took Ash's chin in his hand. He looked older than eighteen, now, with his eyes closed. It was his eyes that made him look so young. "Open up those pretty blue eyes of yours, now. Look, the sky's the same color. Don't you want to see?"
When this had no effect, Kieran began to think it didn't matter what he did or said. Nothing would work. He kissed Ash's slack lips. It was like kissing a corpse. He gave a groan of frustration.
"Damn it, boy, what are you doing in there that's so much more interesting than being in the world with me? You still scared? Didn't I tell you I'd keep you safe?"
Ash's adam's-apple bobbed. His brows drew in and his lips pressed thin.
Kieran nearly choked on hope. "That's right. Wake up now."
With a small, helpless sound in the back of his throat, Ash opened his eyes a sliver, frowning. He swallowed a few times. "No," he whispered.
"Yeah," Kieran contradicted. "You have to wake up."
"No, you --" More swallowing. "You never said you'd keep me safe."
Suddenly embarrassed, Kieran shifted his grip to help Ash sit up. "Well." Kieran cleared his throat. "I guess I said it while you were out cold. Come on, get up now, my leg's gone to sleep."
"Oh." Ash shifted awkwardly, climbing off Kieran's lap. He was wobbly, as if he'd been down with a fever for weeks. Still frowning, he looked around, then turned back to Kieran questioningly.
"You collapsed during the shootout. You've been out maybe an hour."
"I'm sorry."
"Uh. Yeah. It's okay." Kieran busied himself with his hair, getting it all behind his shoulders and retying the kerchief to keep it back.
"I'm... I'm glad you weren't hurt."
"What?"
"In the fight. I'm glad you won."
"You sure about that? Thought you'd be mad I let 'em keep hold of you."
Ash shook his head. He sniffled, scrubbed at his eyes and nose, then lifted his chin with new calm. "They meant to kill us both. You did the right thing."
"Wasn't sure you'd see it that way."
"You didn't care how I saw it. I'm not sure why you bothered bringing me along. Did you carry me? You must have. Why didn't you just leave me?"
Kieran shrugged, looking away. He stood up and dusted off his coat. "Guess I got used to having you around." He offered a hand.
Ash stared at Kieran's hand for a moment before he grabbed it and let himself be pulled to his feet. He stumbled forward -- no, it was deliberate, he flung himself at Kieran's chest, throwing his arms around, buried his face in the dusty leather of Kieran's coat. His voice was muffled:
"Thank you."
"Huh. All right." Kieran returned the embrace reluctantly, afraid that if he didn't pull himself out of his maudlin mood quickly, he'd get stupid and nail Ash right here on the riverbank, and they'd be arrested naked.
After a minute, Ash drew back and let go, giving a wry little laugh. "I scared you. Just now."
"Nah, you surprised me is all. We should get moving."
"No, I scared you. But I could hear, a little bit, when I was coming to -- you were being so sweet to me, and now you get scared if I hug you. I don't get you. I'm going to figure you out, though."
"This empath shit is getting to be a real pain in the ass. Look, this is me leaving. You coming or not?"
"Okay, hold your horses, I'm coming." Ash grinned.
"And quit grinning at me. You look like a monkey."
"Sure I do."
"You do. Big red grinning monkey."
"You've never seen a monkey, I bet."
"Have too. Saw a circus once. In Trestre. They had monkeys looked just like you."
"You win. I'm secretly really a monkey."
Kieran gave in and laughed. He felt like his chest was full of birds, all rustling and battering to get out. He didn't know what to call the feeling, but he was pretty certain it was one of the ones that turns horrible when thwarted.
Chapter Sixteen
A sense of weary well-being carried Ash along as he followed Kieran down the beach. He could barely remember what had happened after the men with the guns had grabbed him. Later, he'd think about it.
For now, he'd think about how Kieran seemed to like him better today. That was a little odd, not at all what he would have expected. He would have thought going catatonic would be the worst thing he could do. It was exactly the kind of thing Kieran had been afraid of when he'd tried to make Ash head east. He should have awakened in the clutches of the mob or the police or worse, or never woken up at all. Instead, he'd been drawn up by Kieran's heartbeat in his ear, the smell of gunsmoke and leather, and the kind of soft, sweet words he'd never imagined hearing from Kieran's lips, even in his most self-indulgent fantasies.
They still echoed in his head: those pretty blue eyes of yours... didn't I tell you I'd keep you safe?
And then for all his grumpiness and bantering, Kieran had treated him gently. His reaction to Ash's sudden embrace had contained no anger, no disgust. Just a mild alarm, and perhaps a flicker of desire.
Ash felt light, floating, as if nothing were quite real. A little bit head-blind on his left side; the effect of the river? Kieran was leading him along the riverbank, picking a path through tumbled slabs of building stone and fragments of rusted oil barrel. It wasn't at all clear where they were going, except that it was upriver. Ash remembered reading t
hat the town of Burn River was the point where the river became navigable, that upstream of the town the water was shallow and fraught with hazards. Maybe it would be cleaner there too, maybe that was why Kieran was taking him this way -- no, what was he thinking, the river was full of chaotic charge even before the factories dumped their phosphors and coal by-products into it. That was why it was called Burn River.
In fact, now that he was looking, he could see that the vegetation along the bank was a little strange. He didn't recognize most of it, so he couldn't be sure whether it was right, but there were a few plants he knew were wrong. He stepped carefully around a clump of daisies that were bowed over by the too-long petals of their flowers, avoided a cottonwood sapling with white growths on its trunk.
"How can anyone live here?" he murmured.
"Hm?" Kieran turned back to look at him. "Quit dawdling. Look -- here." He stopped to let Ash catch up, and while he waited he dug in the pockets of his coat. "Got a present for you."
"You're kidding."
"Nope. This is for you." He tugged something free of the pocket and held it out.
Ash froze. It was a gun. A fat-bodied revolver. It looked big, even in Kieran's hand. "I -- ah --"
"Take it, you baby. And put your coat on, it's about to get cold."
Glancing at the sky, Ash saw that it was later than he'd thought. The yellowing of the light had just seemed part of his mood, but it was nearly evening. Shrugging into his sheepskin jacket, he gingerly reached out and took the revolver. It was heavy, the metal warm from being in Kieran's pocket. He began to put it in his own pocket, but Kieran stopped him.
"Hang on, it's not loaded."
"I don't want it loaded."
"Tough. I want you to be able to defend yourself. This takes forty standard, same as mine, it's a pretty common caliber. Here's where you break it, see? Just pop 'em in like this -- hold it steady, idiot!"
"Kieran, the only firearm I've ever touched was a bird gun, years ago. I don't know how to use one of these."
"Neither do half the homicidal dumbshits running around out here. Pay attention. Pop it back in like that and it locks. You wanna fire it, you have to cock it first. It's single-action. That means you gotta cock it each time. Just pull it -- no, you do it." He used both his hands to wrap Ash's fingers around the grip, put Ash's thumb on the hammer. "Pull back. Yeah, it's hard."
"It's going to go off."
"Not by itself. What, you think it's an animal, it's gonna bite you? It's a machine, Ashes. Be the boss."
Wincing, ready for the noise of a shot, Ash pulled back the hammer. It hurt his thumb. When it clicked into place, he prayed he was done. Kieran wouldn't risk alerting people that they were down here, would he?
No such luck. Shifting behind Ash, he reached his long arms around and moved Ash's hand, making him aim the gun at the middle of the river. "Get your finger on that trigger, now. You need to feel what it's like, or you'll drop it when there's a fight on. Just squeeze down on it."
Breathless both from fear of the gun and from Kieran's voice in his ear, Ash tried to pull away.
"Someone's going to hear it and come --"
"No they ain't. People are always shooting off their guns for the hell of it, around here. You're not getting out of this."
Ash took a deep breath. "What am I aiming at?"
"Nothing. Just the water. I just want you to feel it kick, once."
"It's going to hurt, isn't it?"
"Not if you don't tighten up your wrist. Keep it loose. Not limp, dumbass, just loose." His hands wrapped Ash's wrist, giving it a shake. "That's better. Now don't jerk the trigger. Just haul down on it real slow."
Ash felt the weight of the gun, the heat of Kieran's body at his back, his own anxiety and arousal, the chemical reek of the river, the last rays of sun on his cheek; it all melded into one thing.
Frighteningly real and beautiful. I always pick the strangest times to be happy, he thought, and tightened his finger.
The gun roared, sending a shock up his arm, more like a sound than a sensation. He realized he'd closed his eyes, and opened them. He couldn't see where his shot had gone, and Kieran was letting go of him. He wanted to start over and do it again, wanted to ask Kieran to show him again, to whisper in his ear the finer points of marksmanship -- is this why people become so irrational when they get hold of guns? Or am I sick, that it turns me on? Frightened of his reaction, Ash held still and didn't try to stop Kieran from moving away.
"Still scared?" said Kieran.
"Yeah." It came out a whisper. Ash gulped and tried again. "More scared than I was before. I'm afraid I'm going to fire it again."
Kieran gave a satisfied nod. "Good. You respect it. Put it away now. It won't go off if you don't cock it. Later on I'll show you how to clean it, maybe have you shoot some targets."
"Okay."
"You still think it's gonna bite you, don't you?"
"I think it already did."
Kieran laughed, slapping Ash's shoulder. "You're an outlaw, kid. Did you forget that? We're outlaws. Now let's get the hell out of town before somebody finds us."
"This came off a dead man, didn't it?"
"Yeah."
"Someone you shot."
"You have a problem with that?" Kieran watched his face, as if his answer mattered.
Ash gave it some thought, for that reason. At last he said, "No." He took one last look at the gun, then set it carefully in his pocket. "It seems appropriate, somehow. I'm just wondering how long I can travel with you before I end up killing someone. Or getting shot because I won't kill someone. You saw what it did to me, just having people die near me."
"Guess we'll cross that one when we come to it."
"It was just -- they were so scared of you. I wanted to tell you that, when they had me --" He pantomimed the gun to his throat.
"Wouldn't have changed anything." Kieran set off down the beach again.
"I suppose you're right," he said, trying to match Kieran's pace. "And it's not as if I'd never felt anyone die before. I lived in Ladygate. People dying and being born all the time. I just didn't know what it was I was feeling. It's worse, knowing. There's this, this blinding fog of fear, and then it just pops, and there's nothing."
"You figure it was you being scared, or them getting mixed up with you?"
"I'm not sure I can tell the difference. Just like now, I feel full of butterflies, like something good's about to happen, and I don't know if it's me or you."
Kieran turned his head, but his smile was apparent in his voice. "That's me, I guess. Sorry 'bout that."
"Why --?"
"You know damn well. Quit trying to make me say pretty things to you."
Ash smiled to himself, and managed not to answer.
Gradually, the riverbank became less cluttered and less steep. There began to be shacks perched on the shore, sad little things made of sheet metal and scrap wood. Thin, hard-eyed Iavaians in dull-colored clothes watched them pass. Even the children looked wary. Smells of cooking mixed with smells of rot, smoke, and human waste. Ash tried not to stare. Kieran didn't even bother looking.
"It's sad," Ash whispered. "I knew, intellectually, that people lived like this. But I never understood. I wish there was something I could do."
"Pick one."
Ash frowned in puzzlement. "What?"
"Pick one. One family." Kieran swung his coat back to get at his trouser pocket.
"But -- I get it. You can't pick one."
"I'm not being a wiseass. Just point."
"Um. All right." Not certain what Kieran meant to do, Ash peered into the shantytown, intending to choose the nearest house. If you could call them houses. But the nearest one seemed deserted.
Just past it, though, was one in front of which two little girls stared at him, frozen in the act of digging a hole with sticks. Their mother, enormously pregnant, stood half-hidden in the doorway of the shack, glaring. The mother looked younger than Ash was. She couldn't have been more tha
n four and a half feet tall, and there was something wrong with her face; her cheeks and chin looked red. She was far enough away to be a blurred to his imperfect sight, so he couldn't tell what exactly was wrong, but it wasn't nice. "That one," said Ash quietly, feeling sick.
"All right. I'm going to teach you some Iavaian. Say it after me: nahia aberu inamat."
"Na -- nay --"
"Nahia."
"Nahia --"
"Nahia. Aberu. Inamat."