Page 94 of Nemesis Mine
Max mounted Gutgrabber, and they fell into step as they left the mountain behind.
They made camp beneath the stars again, as far away from the complications of other people as they could manage. With the horses settled and the sprite dozing in a nearby pine, Cyrus and Max curled up together at the edge of awoodland with the moon waxing gibbous above them. A chill breeze picked up as night drew in, chasing wispy clouds past the moon’s glow. Cyrus pressed close to Max’s back, watching the clouds move without really seeing them, lost in his thoughts.
Max gave a soft sigh, leaning back into Cyrus. The noise was sleepy, but when Cyrus propped himself up on his elbow, Max’s eyes were open. He was looking at the moon too.
Cyrus brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, then traced the outline of the bruise around his cheekbone. It was still stubbornly purple, mottled at the edges. His finger trailed along Max’s temple to the crescent scar from Cyrus’s embers.
“Admiring your handiwork?” Max murmured.
Cyrus ghosted a kiss over it. Max’s mouth curved into a slight smile. But he was still watching the moon, pensive.
“What are you thinking?” Cyrus asked quietly.
“He was at the gate. Bal.”
Oh no. They hadn’t discussed this. Cyrus had been quite content to let that lie. He slumped back down and mumbled something indecipherable in response, hoping that Max would take the hint.
“Right under that turret.”
Cyrus made a faint snoring noise. It didn’t sound particularly convincing.
“You saved him.” Max’s tone was wondering.
“I’m pretending to be asleep,” Cyrus said into the dark.
He felt Max’s shoulders shake with a huff of laughter. “Yeah, I can tell.” He settled when Cyrus poked him in the back and for a couple of minutes the only sounds were thesoft rustling of nighttime wildlife and the stirring of leaves in the breeze.
Cyrus was beginning to think Max had fallen asleep when he spoke again, quiet. “Do you think Bal planned it? From way out, I mean.”
Cyrus paused to consider, though he instinctively knew the answer. “No,” he said finally. “No, I don’t. At least, not the way it happened.”
“I have to believe he was trying to help, in his own way,” said Max, his voice straining. “In fact, I know he was. All those years we’ve worked together... he wanted me to succeed more than anything. He wouldn’t have done that unless he thought it was the best for me.” He sounded like he was trying to reassure himself, but Cyrus thought he was probably right.
“He probably thought the Federation would reprimand you, not hurt you,” Cyrus said slowly. He could imagine Balthazar convincing himself of that. That Max had done so much for the Federation over the years; his punishment would not be so very harsh. Not when he had surely been lured into this foolish game by the wrongdoer. The Federation would take Cyrus away from Max and deliver a slap on the wrist to their errant champion. Perhaps he would not be allowed Heliarth, not right away, but he could work his way up again.
Whether Balthazar hadtrulybelieved that was the real question. Jealousy was a savage motivator.
“He probably thought he was saving me.” Max sighed, heartfelt. “Idiot.”
“Not about to disagree with that,” muttered Cyrus. He sensed Max’s smile in the dark.
“Thanks for saving him,” said Max sincerely. Maybe even a little proudly. Gross. “I know he hurt us. But for so long, he was the only person I could rely on. I don’t know if I could have lived with myself if he’d...”
“You don’t have to,” Cyrus interrupted firmly. “He’s fine. Free to live his boring little life.” He paused. Perhaps it was the dark; perhaps it was the fact that Max was facing away from him. Perhaps he was just getting better at sharing. In a softer voice, Cyrus admitted, “I’d have saved him a thousand times over for you.”
“Spoken like a champion,” Max noted. It didn’t seem like a tease. He sounded reflective, more than anything.
Cyrus released a breath, letting his body sag against Max’s. “Yeah, well. We wanted to shake things up, didn’t we?”
“Mm. I’d say we succeeded there.” Max leaned back into him, amusement colouring his tone. “Sleeping under the stars with a wrongdoer. I knew I was signing up to try something new, but...”
Something new.That was what it came down to, in the end. That same notion had been lingering at the edge of Cyrus’s thoughts during their journey north from Durov. Accepting that Ranragh wasn’t home anymore meant cracking open a new future. As they travelled, Cyrus had been trying to imagine what that might look like. A quiet life, one where it didn’t matter what anyone thought of them. Maybe Max could try his hand at woodwork again. Maybe they would get a dog. Something small and yappyand evil; he wasn’t anentirelyreformed man. Or a cat; yes, that would suit him better. A little black one. He could start afresh with a vegetable patch. Maybe—maybe he could sell some of it.
The tentative sketch of their future he’d been trying to draw in his mind solidified, colour creeping in. Athaca was large, but it was only one island. There were other places they could go. Unseen places to explore, to forge a different path unbound by the constraints of any Federation or Guild with other people’s rules and regulations. They could be whatever they wanted, together. A little good, a little bad. Something new.
Cyrus raised himself back onto his elbow and looked at Max, stretched out beside him. The moonlight threw a silvery glow over his familiar features, now so beloved to Cyrus. The truth was right there in the way it made him feel, just looking at Max. A tenderness so gentle it ached. Cyrus did not care where they went or what they did, so long as Max was by his side.
“We can leave all this behind,” Cyrus said quietly. “Leave Athaca. Get a boat, go to one of the other islands. We could... have our own little adventure. If you wanted. Start again.”
