Page 37 of The Sixth Spring

Will pulled back so he could see Itori’s face. There was tiredness there, and Will was surprised that he could recognize it. Will looked him over. There didn’t seem to be any physical wound he could see, and yet his whole presence felt shrunken.

“Did they hurt you?” Will asked.

“They sent something into the water, into me. I have been busy sealing away what I could, but it is not enough.”

“Send something? Like a diver? Or–” He remembered the pipes. “The drainage pipes?”

Itori gestured back at the trailer. “Pipes, yes. They are going to funnel my lifeblood out. Pour it elsewhere.”

Will’s heart sank. “We won’t let them.”

Itori brought his face closer, and for a second Will thought he was going to kiss him. Itori pressed his cheek against Will’s instead. “You have explained to me that you cannot stop these men. How not even your village can stop these men.”

“There has to be a way,” Will said. “They won’t listen, but I can come up with something.” His mind went back to the construction trailer. Was there anything inside there that could help him? Something that could at least slow the process until he could figure out a more permanent solution?

“I must leave this place,” Itori said, pulling back to look at Will again. “Find a new source to get energy from. I must walk on dryland. Soon.”

Itori’s eyes flashed red as moonlight sifted through the clouds. His hands came up to cup Will’s face, thumbs tracing over smooth skin. Will tilted into the touch. It was so, so good to see him again.

“Then you'll walk on dryland,” Will said. “I’ll give you the energy, like we talked about.”

“I cannot ask that of you,” Itori stroked his cheeks soothingly.

“Of course you can. It doesn’t cost me anything, remember?” Will put his own hands on top of Itori’s to pause them, because the simple touch was too distracting, and he needed to say this. “Please, I want to help. I won’t let them kill you. Itori, please. Please just tell me what you need.”

The scaled hands shifted under his, and Will released him. Itori began to trace over his features, touching the soft planes of Will’s cheeks, then up to his brow bone. He followed the line of his nose down to the bow of Will’s lips in thoughtful contemplation.

“What were you saying, right before I came?” Itori asked.

That caught Will off guard. “What?” He rolled his thoughts back, but he hadn’t said anything. “I wasn’t talking.”

Itori tilted his head. “You were. It was sweet.” He did his best to approximate the sound. He was talking about the humming.

“Oh. It’s not words, it’s a song.”

“A song without words?” His fingers traced Will’s cheeks.

He was so close, but Will didn’t dare move away. “Like the frogs do.”

“The frogs are calling for their mates,” Itori said gently, as if it were obvious.

“Oh,” Will said. “You speak–okay.”

“Is humming the same?” Itori was watching Will closely, fingers paused in their explorations, like the answer mattered.

Will felt suddenly wrongfooted. He hadn’t meant–but he didn’t want to say that. Didn’t want to imply that wasn’t interested in–in–

The thoughts tangled in his head. That was too much, too soon. He shouldn’t–

“I have heard you sing your wordless songs a few times,” Itori continued when Will didn’t speak. “I thought you might be calling for me. The sound reminded me of my father’s songs to my mother.”

“It was–it was me hoping you’d show up again,” Will said. It was the closest he could get out of the confusing snarl inside him. “I hoped–well, I wanted to see you again.”

“I wanted to see you too,” Itori said. His hands started moving again, caressing to Will’s ears and the edges of his hair. “I felt you here, but I did not have the energy to come. I still enjoyed your song where I rested. It was soothing, a reminder of sweetness.”

That and the careful touches had Will blushing. “Oh, I–you could hear it from, under water?”

“I can feel and hear everything that happens here,” Itori said. “It is my responsibility.”