E. elaterium is considered an invasive species simply because of its incredibly powerful method of seed dispersal. A member of the cucumber family, its fruit holds 40-60 seeds in a liquid suspension which is stored under incredible pressure. When ripe, the merest touch will cause the fruit to blast free of the vine, spraying a stream of seeds through an orifice created by the detachment of the stem; the force of the jet can propel the fruit up to 6 meters away from the original plant. Squirting cucumber is inedible and mildly toxic, although it has been used as a folk remedy for sinusitis. It was brought in the genetic banks as a curiosity, and thrives on Dolparessa due to its growing popularity for use in Cu’enmerengi pornographic holovids.
Illustration from Hans-Simon Holtzbecker, Gottorfer Codex, 1649-1659.
Cillian and Tara were in a flyer headed towards the Great Lopsided Forest; Cillian was tracking the satellite data showing the movement of Mac’kellr’s troops with his shadehuds. Unfortunately, the satellite scanners were incapable of registering the thing of which Cillian’s enhanced senses were now warning: a swarm of several thousand Cu’ensali on an intercept course.
Cu’ensali against Cu’enashti was one thing. But if the Cu’ensali engaged with humans, then everything was going to hell in a hovercar. “Compost, compost, compost, a radioactive compost enema,” snapped Cillian, smashing his fists against the control panel. “Conventional weapons won’t work against them.”
“They aren’t capable of doing much damage,” said Tara. “Nothing compared to what Mac’kellr can do to their trees.”
“Doesn’t matter, baby. Mac’kellr will use it as an excuse. And we don’t have any fucking intel on the situation. Are they Puce’s troops, trying to make trouble, are they peaceful Cu’ensali trying to protect their homes, or are they a suicide squad looking to provoke their own destruction?”
“We have to talk to them.”
Cillian shook his head. “We ain’t talking. We’re fighting. If we were talking, Patrick would be here.”
Tara put her hand on Cillian’s arm. “Ash,” she said. “How much do you know?”
“Not as much as I would if certain people weren’t being drama queens about stupid-ass shit. Where the fuck is Lens?”
« Oh, » said Lens, « sorry. I and the other Yggdrasil emanations were trying to find Rain. He seems to have disappeared. »
Of course none of us noticed that. Everyone was too preoccupied with watching Cillian and Tannon have their hearts fed to the ravens to realize that Rain was having some serious adjustment issues.
« He never even came to the big meeting at the amphitheater, » added Axel.
I raised my arm, staggering a bit as I did so. « All right, I want everyone with some tactical ability in here to support Cillian. Everybody else, go look for Rain. »
« Can I stay? » asked Ellery. « And Callum wants to stay also. »
« All right, » I said. « Let’s move. »
There was a considerable shuffling. A few moments later, the room was filled. I scanned the faces of those present: besides Ellery and Callum, I had Whirljack, Mickey, Patrick, Cüinn, Jamey, Davy, Wynne, Owen, Suibhne, Lugh, Ari, Aran, Valentin, Malachi, Constantine, Lucius, Ethan, Barnabas, Marius, Ace, Axel, Lens, Beat, Till, Rand, Balin, Solomon and Briscoe.
« Ideas? » I said.
« We want to neutralize the Cu’ensali without harming them, » said Mickey. « If they were human, I’d use gas. »
“Thought of that already,” said Cillian. “Also a force bubble won’t work.”
“What?” said Tara.
“Don’t sweat it baby,” said Cillian. “I’m just talking to myselves.”
« Living matter impacts them, » said Cüinn. « We could catch them in our hands. »
« Far too many, and too time-consuming, » said Barnabas. « We need an engineering solution. »
« Why not just do like Hebbick’s mom-in-law and use ecoshot? » asked Tommy.
« Farmers like it because it’s cheap, there’s less chance of hurting protected wildlife, and it biodegrades, » said Mickey, « but no professional agency uses it. It corrodes weapons badly. When we want a less-lethal round, we use polymanthium, but that’s synthetic. It’ll just pass right through the Cu’ensali. »
« Same problem with microbots, » said Ethan. « Cu’ensali would fly right through them. »
« We need something like a microbot, but biological, » mused Owen.
« Use whornets, » said Suibhne.
“How the hell do you intend to get whornets to attack Cu’ensali?” asked Cillian.
« Some kind of bait, » Lugh suggested.
« Define the design parameters, » said Malachi.
« It would have to be some kind of living material that will stick to the Cu’ensali, » said Ethan.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” said Cillian. “Baby, get Martin over at RR Labs on the com.”
“I can only imagine the conversation,” said Tara. “I trust that this will all make sense.”
Zosim bent over the communications panel. “I’ve got him.”
“Martin, this is Admiral Whelan. I need a box of pollen, and I need it yesterday.”
“What? Pollen?”
“Yeah, you’re doing botanical research. You’ve got to have tons of it in stasis, right? Bring something attractive to whornets.”
“Whornets are meat-eating. Bees eat pollen, but there have never been bees on Dolparessa. For some reason, even though they were brought in Earth’s genetic banks, they wouldn’t take here.”
Of course they wouldn’t. What sane nau’gsh would allow a pollen-eating insect on its planet?
“But we have hoverflies. We keep them in stasis to release in case of aphid infestations. Aphids are their favorite food, but they do eat pollen.”
“Right. Then bring pollen and hoverflies. I’ll need you to teleport to this location.”
“We’re moving,” said Tara. “The Floatfish said that the teleport would adjust for relative velocity, but we’ve never tested that.”
“The Floatfish don’t sell junk,” said Cillian.
“Martin hopes that the Floatfish don’t sell junk,” Zosim muttered under his breath.
« I don’t think you’re going to make it in time, » said Lens. « The cloud of pink fireflies is getting too close to the group of humans. »
“I’m heading straight down the middle of them,” said Cillian. “I hope nobody gets hay fever.”
As the flyer bore down at top speed, Martin appeared suddenly on deck. He stumbled forward. “Feels like I got whiplash,” he said. “And I have to go back. I could only teleport what I could carry. Here’s the pollen.”
“Zosim, load the crowd control canisters,” said Cillian.
“Those are designed for spraying gas. The pollen might clog them.”
“Do I havta do everything? Here, give them to me.” Cillian grabbed a canister, and with the slightest moment’s concentration, vaporized a small amount of metal around the rim of each valve orifice.
“What propellant are you using?” asked Martin. “You want something that won’t damage the pollen.”
“HFAL,” said Zosim. “You don’t want to mix anything into a tranquilizing gas that might injure human lungs. It should be okay.”
“All right. I’m going back for the flies,” said Martin.
“This should be exciting,” said Cillian. “Like a massive preemptive bukkake strike.”
« Oh, so I’m not the only one who thought of it that way, » said Tannon.
« I did too, » said Tommy. « It’s not because you’re a conifer. It’s because you’re a pervert. »
“Visual contact,” said Zosim. “Cu’ensali swarm in range.”
“And there’s Mac’kellr. We’re gonna have collateral damages here,” said Cillian.
Mac’kellr’s supporters were just beginning to react to the horde of Cu’ensali speedily approaching. One retainer shouted, gesturing frantically at the flyer bearing down from a perpendicular direction. Cillian hit the release panel, and a cloud of pollen descended upon the hapless humans. They scattered, choking and gasping just as the Cu’ensali flew straight into the cloud.
Martin reappeared, barely visible beneath a stack of stasis containers. “I’ve got flies,” he said.
“Better not spray those,” said Cillian. “Slowing to hoverspeeds. Dump them out the cargo hatch.”
It was impressive. Thousands upon thousands of hoverflies, released unconscious into the air, suddenly awakened as the stasis wore off. The wind whipped them the same direction as the spreading clouds of pollen.
« Actually, it’s good it wasn’t whornets, » said Barnabas. « Whornets are heavier. They might’ve just smashed into the ground before they reanimated. »
Hoverflies were everywhere. The pollen-covered humans screamed and swatted; the Cu’ensali troops scattered in disarray. Battle was rendered impossible.
“That’s one for the textbooks,” said Cillian. “Zosim, have your men track Mac’kellr and bring him in for questioning.”
“Will do,” Zosim wheezed. “This pollen is getting to me.”
“That’s why all plant researchers go through an enormous battery of antiallergenic treatments during graduate school,” said Martin. “I could take a bath in the stuff without a sniffle.”
“That’s a damn good idea,” said Cillian. “If pollen-bombing becomes an important weapon in a protracted conflict with the Cu’ensali, we’d better prepare our troops.”
*****
Cillian and Tara returned to Court Emmere, where they were greeted by Lord Danak. “I really wish you wouldn’t take such risks, Your Eminence,” he said.
“Danak, my mother was a Skarsian battlequeen. It’s not my way to sit around while my troops endanger themselves.”
“Besides, she’s safer with me,” said Cillian. “Even if enemy troops blew up the flyer, as long as I was with her, I could take care of it. And she wasn’t in any danger, or I and I would’ve emanated Marius.”
Lord Danak shrugged. By this point, he had to know that it was useless to tell Tara to do anything, but he felt it was his duty to at least try. “What’s our next step?” he asked.
“A hot shower and a shot of bourbon,” said Cillian. “When Zosim gets back with Mac’kellr, let’s leave him to cool off for a while. We’ve got to scare some sense into this dickwad.”
« We need some intel on those Cu’ensali, » said Mickey. « The points you brought up earlier were good ones. What was their intent? »
“Hey Marty,” said Cillian. “Know anything about that swarm?”
“Puce was there,” he said. “It was definitely a hostile gesture. Enjoy your mammalian reproductive acts.”
“Right,” said Tara. “I’ll enjoy them more knowing that you’re watching.” Tara grinned at Cillian. “I meant that sarcastically, of course.”
Cillian shrugged. “Knowing that the Twist are watching doesn’t get me hot,” he said. “They couldn’t give a rotten root anyway. Knowing that the other emanations are watching is different.”
Tara laughed. “Do you remember the screwing contest between Whirljack and Balin? I actually felt very self-conscious knowing that everyone was watching me. But they’re always watching anyway, aren’t they?”
“What the hell do you think? That’s about the only time everyone is focused on one thing.” Cillian pushed her back against a wall.
There was an immediate change in the atmosphere of the pleroma. I glanced around Daniel’s flat; there must have been two dozen emanations still there, all with eyes glazed over, excepting myself and Ari.
« Although I understand the need for it, riding alongside still makes me feel a little uncomfortable, » he said. « I’ve been trying to get over my reluctance since that incident at Suibhne’s party. »
« You’re just not used to it, » I replied. « On the other hand, I’m an asshole. »
Ari knelt behind the couch, leaning over my shoulder. He was so massive that he was almost a full head higher than I was even though he was kneeling and I was seated. He put one arm around my chest. « Come on, » he said. « We can do this. »
I closed my eyes. All I had to do was to let go of myself. I wasn’t like Ari; it wasn’t something new to me. I had done it many times before. I just hadn’t enjoyed it.
No, I was lying. I did enjoy it. I felt guilty afterward. I’d better not admit to that, or Tarlach would have me on his couch before I knew it. When Tarlach gets an emanation on his couch, he really gets an emanation on his couch. Ask Constantine about that.
But it was so hard because it was Cillian this time and I was…
…jealous? Of Cillian, or of Tara?
Ari started laughing at me. « You’re about to win the prize for the most self-defeating Cu’enashti emanation of all time. »
« You’re one to talk. You get jealous, too. »
« I know. That’s exactly why we have to do this. When one of us wins, we all win. »
It wasn’t just jealousy, though. It was…oh, enough excuses.
I was slammed into a wall of physical sensation. Mind and body were sated with Tara, and I was pressing my fingers into her back hard enough to leave faint bruises because she liked it that way, liked to be hurt, just a little. She liked to fight, liked to scrape me with her nails, so I intensified a pain I didn’t really feel, intensified it because pain inflicted by her was a kind of gift.
« It’s so different for him, » murmured Ari. « I couldn’t take it if she attacked me. »
« But neither of us could bear to hurt her either. We couldn’t give that to her, even though it’s something she needs sometimes. »
« We all have a place, » said Ari. « You’re right about Tannon. »
I plunged back into Cillian’s senses. As a lover he is quick and intense, much more so than I, but he’ll take her two or three times in one night. His opposite is Hurley, whose lovemaking is slow and dreamlike. I wasn’t like that either.
But I was. I had been all of them. I would be all of them again. I wasn’t meant to be alone…
Someone was tugging at my sleeve. « Ailann? » asked a vaguely familiar voice.
I opened my eyes. It was Darius. « I found this, » he said. « I think you should have it. »
« Found what? » I asked. Really, couldn’t he have picked a better time?
« When I was going through our memories, seeing what I needed to back up. It’s yours. You seem to have forgotten. »
Forgotten?
Smallest seed of I. Smallest seed as large as I can become, but wanting.
No, it wasn’t quite a memory, neither in our sense nor in the human sense. Impression was a better word for it. Memory implies a conception of self, and there was none. There was just an emotion, not a feeling like a tree feels or a human feels, but more like a tendency, a vector. It was a tendency to accumulate, but that’s too intellectualized. If I had to put a label to it, I’d call it “more.”
More.
More becomes aware of something it doesn’t have. More wants. There is no pain, no fear, no loneliness. More doesn’t have these concepts. More only consists of a blind need to grow.
There’s an image. Jet black, but still sparkling. It’s strong.
Wait, is that…Cillian?
Spinning together now, black and blue. More Strong.
More Strong spins together, and for a moment there is joy, but it doesn’t last because More never has enough.
Another system approaches. More wants. More Strong is stronger than Sex Make Beauty.
Sex? What could nul-beings know about sex? But it’s the closest concept I can find to express the essence of the coral-red spinner which would become Daniel. Daniel, who spins with Davy and Dermot.
Sex Make More Strong Beauty is formidable, formidable enough to attract Proud, who is apricot enough to become a Cu’ensali. Sex Make More Strong Beauty makes Proud feel inadequate, and the only way he can stay himself is to become it.
Oh Driscoll.
Another one, smaller, but infinitely complex, much more developed than we are. It is full of mystery, but we lack the ability to formulate questions. I’d call it Beloved, but there’s another blue one in pursuit, one that feels nothing but the passionate urge to join. We get to Beloved first, but we take Lover also, and Sex Make More Strong Beauty Proud is exactly everything they need.
With Patrick and Tommy on board, it’s getting very tricky, and I’m starting to understand why the average Cu’enashti seems to max out at eight emanations. Every spark that nears us has to synchronize with all the others in the collective self. Capricious can synch to anything, but we’re a little concerned how he will fit. Make’s impulse is Strong, and soon we’re Sex Make More Strong Beauty Proud Lover Capricious Beloved.
That Davy wanted Suibhne is predictable, but that Cillian did is something I won’t let him forget!
We’re quite full of ourself, that is, until we encounter something even bigger than we are.
There’s a funny story behind that. Is it a story? Maybe it’s a courtship. A love triangle. Analyze Synthesize was being wooed by both Law Order Reason and Dream Song Devoted. The problem was that first it would try to synch with one, but then get distracted and start to synch with the other, and no one was spinning the same at all. It could’ve been a disaster, but then Luck came along and everyone synched with him, including Healing Oblation, who just happened to wander by.
It was the same for us. Sex Make More Strong Beauty Proud Lover Capricious Beloved synched with Healing Dream Song Devoted Oblation Analyze Law Synthesize Order Reason simply because of Luck.
Jamey, Hurley, Evan, Sloane, Callum, Tarlach, Ross, Owen/Lugh, Mickey, Cüinn and Wynne.
An entity of this size – and one which would grow a good bit bigger later in its evolution – could never have held together if it weren’t for luck. We had absolutely no idea how important Wynne is to our existence.
Then another one which could’ve become a Cu’ensali, an orchid pink whose spin was – there’s no other way to describe it – sleepy. The only name which I can find to fit it is Why-not? And Chase joined us – why not?
But there had to be more, even though not many interested us. There was one, though, a blood-red one I’ll call Inversion. It shocked us because he synched up perfectly, immediately – while spinning in the opposite direction from the rest of us. Guess who that was?
But despite the exotic presence of Lorcan, it still wasn’t enough. Maybe we could add one more spark, and one more, and one more, but to what end? For the first time, we knew pain, our impulses becoming a desperate ache which seemed to last forever. What was the point of spinning in place without growing, changing, touching?
Twenty-two of us, and yet one. Then Atlas came, a rootlet pushing aside the soil, a rootlet with a mission. It was the first time we realized anything existed other than the sparks. To us, the solid rock made of nul-matter was as invisible and imperceptible as air is to humans. The roots made us conscious of the rocks, and once conscious of them, there was no way not to feel trapped.
There was panic in the enormous proto-Cu’enashti. Trapped in the rocks, we couldn’t continue to grow. Trapped in the rocks, we would never be other than we were. There had to be more! Something more than sparks, more than us, bigger, larger, grander, more beautiful. Each of our individual blind longings called out in one enormous wave of desire. There was something that Lover intuited by its very nature, but couldn’t actualize since we couldn’t really conceive of something, someone other than ourselves.
The root was already pulling power from the flow, the background energy of which we were made. We were clumps of energy, eddies, interference patterns, ideas, memes. There was a native intelligence in the rootlet. It was capable of having a goal and formulating a plan to achieve it. It needed to communicate that plan to us.
It split through the rock, releasing energy which coagulated around it, a little whirlpool, a whirligig which spun somehow clockwise and counterclockwise at the same time, black and white at the same time. It was a spark like no other spark, created by Atlas, formulated from Atlas’ desire. It synchronized with us, spin and counter-spin, for it had been created to do so. And when it did, when it became one of us, we saw what Atlas saw, we saw the vision of Tara’s destiny.
We were dazzled. As far as Atlas was beyond us, Tara was beyond Atlas. We intuited that Tara was the sum of its parts, Atlas was the sum of its parts. Then Whirljack did something incredible: he contracted his spark into a tiny brilliant center, pouring all the rest of his energy into a massive spiral.
More wanted that. And what More did, Strong did. The spiraling energy began to intersect, and where it did, traces of black, true black and jet, rippled through More, blue and jet colored Whirljack, white and blue tinted Strong.
And then there was a rainbow of spirals, and the energy field generated by their synchronization pulsed with blue fire, that opalescent blue green which is the pseudo-color equivalent of white, the combination of all colors. It is the opposite of pink, the equivalent of black, a lacuna. Thus the brilliance of my ipsissimal blue eventually had to be balanced against the darkness of Aran’s magenta. Amazingly, the SongLuminants had it right: magenta is the color of devastation.
We saw how Atlas dreamed, and how Tara dreamed and felt and reasoned, and we began to craft an imitation, to communicate. But at the same time, we were neither animal nor plant, and so our thought consisted of the interference patterns between the energy spun by the spirals.
We saw that Atlas was a seedling that would become a tree, and Tara was a child who would become the glorious creature of our vision. What will we become? we asked.
Of course, Atlas couldn’t know the answer, so it asked the other trees, and found the answer that had been given since the emanation of the Cantor Tree, a bizarre and inaccurate analogy: an image of a moth emerging from its cocoon.
It was close enough. We entered the roots, extending our consciousness into the tree, watching and waiting until the time was right for the mothman to emerge.
*****
Suddenly, I was ripped from my vision. Something was happening. Sex. The blinding explosion of sex. When it faded, Cillian was kissing Tara, but his joy was giving way to another emotion, something he didn’t want her to see. It was an ache that ran beneath the bark of his branches back to the beginning, a beginning much farther back than I ever could have imagined: two whorls of energy which, in becoming aware of each other, began the journey to becoming aware of everything.
I’d have to be an idiot not to figure this one out.
My pollen was all over the place. What is it that Patrick once called me? A lazy pollinator. I’m so tall I just rely on gravity to do my work for me. But that wouldn’t do me any good since Cillian’s branch hangs out over the Sea of Illusion, and the breeze was against me, pushing my pollen towards the cliff wall.
« Use temperature to manipulate the air currents, » said Patrick. « You can do it. It doesn’t take much energy, and your level of control is even finer than mine. »
True. If I could easily repair a damaged human organ on a molecular level, I could surely coax a few grains of pollen down to Cillian’s branch.
« All it takes is one, » said Patrick.
But one in the right place. The closest of Cillian’s flowers to the tree were already being dusted by Mickey and Sloane and Daniel. So I had to manipulate mine into an exposed spot where it could easily be carried away by the wind.
Mickey, Sloane and Daniel. One of them was probably Philosophia’s father. The thought made me jealous all over again.
Tara sighs in Cillian’s arms. “Don’t you want to go again?” she asks.
“Give me a minute,” he says. “I wanna see if he can do it.”
“You want to see…?” Tara begins, and then, “Oh!” she starts to laugh. “So did you really hook up with Ailann?”
“Jury’s still out on that one,” he said, closing his eyes.
That hurt. He didn’t trust me. Then again, why would he?
But I’m the Archon, dammit. I’M THE FUCKING LIVING GOD.
The shoreline shook as clouds raced backwards. Tara sat bolt upright. “The wind – it’s blowing in the wrong direction,” she said.
“He’s manipulating the weather from inside the pleroma,” said Cillian. “I didn’t know he could do that.”
“Neither did I. I thought that the Archon had to be emanated to access the power grid.”
« I really wish we’d have known you could do that, » said Constantine. « There are times when it would have been very helpful, like when the Panic droid cut me in half with a laser. »
« I didn’t know I could do that, » I said. « I probably can’t. I think it was I and I. »
« The mothman can’t control the power of the Archon, » said Cüinn. « It’s one emanation controlling the power of one tree. »
« But how much sense does that make, really? Why can’t I and I control it? I’m not talking about the mothman. I’m talking about I – the greater self which is made of all the emanations. »
« Pay attention! » Patrick yelled. « That wind blew pollen towards Cillian from every branch on the north side. »
Cillian started laughing. “Fuck!” he said. “Callum got me. My boy pollinated me. I’ll never live this down.”
« I’m sorry, » said Callum dejectedly. « I try not to pollinate anyone. That’s why I grew right next to the cliff. »
« I wish Tara would move Canopus back under Atlas, » said Quennel. « We’re missing all the fun. »
« You had kinky Tannon all to yourselves, so don’t complain, » said Tommy.
Despite Patrick’s warning, no further action was necessary. Once my pollen was in the air over the branch, gravity helped enough for me to get three of Cillian’s blooms.
Sadly, I was a lazy pollinator after all.
*****
It was only to be expected that sex, the epitome of our existence, would take precedence over everything. But once Tara was asleep, attention turned to my vision.
« Owen and I were really one entity, » said Lugh.
« Blackjack and Whirljack were also one entity, » said Malachi. « I’m going out on a limb here, but I think that means somehow Ethan and Barnabas were originally one entity as well. I think this explains why dual emanations can manifest at the same time. »
« Atlas made Whirljack, » said Davy. « Did you see that? »
« That has a few implications we’d better think about, » said Dermot.
« Um, guys? I hate to interrupt this, but I think I’m going to emanate, » said Briscoe.
Now? But Cillian needs to interrogate Mac’kellr in the morning.
Cillian was already out of bed. His movement was abrupt enough to wake Tara. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Ash?”
The mothman folded into Briscoe as Tara blinked. “What’s going on, Ash?” she asked.
“I have to speak to Mac’kellr,” said Briscoe.
“I thought Cillian was going to do that.”
“Mac’kellr knows Cillian. Everybody knows Cillian. But only a handful have ever seen me,” said Briscoe. “I’m about to do something devious. It has to be done while everyone else is asleep. I’ll be back before you wake, don’t worry.”
As Cillian slid onto the couch next to me, Briscoe hopped off of the balcony and jogged through the gardens towards the War Cathedral. We shivered at the chill, the ache which always indicated an increasing distance between ourselves and Tara.
Manasseh sobbed.
« Hey, he’s not going far, » said Davy, putting an arm around Manasseh’s shoulders. « It’s not like he’s going to Dalgherdia or something. »
« It’s not that, » Manasseh sniffed. « I wanted to see if I could remember Ethan and Barnabas, and why they are like they are. »
« Manasseh, you can never remember anything, » said Malachi gently. « You were designed for forgetfulness. »
« But I did! I did remember! »
« Did you remember something bad? » asked Aran.
Manasseh shook his head, saying, « It’s just that…I…I miss him so much. »
« Who? »
« We were together from the very beginning, » said Manasseh. « But he hasn’t emanated yet. »
Valentin stirred suddenly, a startled expression on his face. « I know who he means. But I don’t know. It’s strange, like humans say they almost remember something. I never understood what they meant before. »
I could sympathize. I’d been having that feeling, on and off for a while. It was damn annoying. But then my attention was taken by Cillian, who returned and slid into his seat on the couch. I glanced over at him, saw he was looking at me. I knew we were thinking the same thing: together from the very beginning.
« I love you, » I blurted out. I hadn’t intended to say it, but it was true.
Cillian sat up, startled. « You fucking cunt, » he said. « I thought I told you not to fuck with my head. »
« It’s all right, » said Ellery, leaning across me to place his hand on Cillian’s heart. « I’ll protect you. »
« You’ll protect me? » said Cillian incredulously.
Callum curled up next to Cillian’s feet, placing his head on the floor, like an obedient dog. « He will, » said Callum. « His weak point is different from yours. And if he can’t, then I will. »
Cillian said nothing, but gripped my hand tightly, his eyes focused on an unoccupied corner of the room. He was shaking again. It was then I realized the extent of my power over him. It felt good, very good.
« Yeah, I love you, too, » he said weakly.
When he looked back, I saw again in his eyes that he was unguarded, that he’d laid down his weapons. I felt the smallest spark of something start to dance in my chest. Was it…joy? It was so rare to me.
I grinned at him. « I’m glad, » I said, resting my head on his shoulder.