Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 2

in hurting the only friend he had left in this world, after all.
    In the morning, Aeron woke to find Tammas beneath the tree, leaning his cheek against it. He knew they were talking and was inexplicably annoyed. "What do you want?"
    Tam looked up. "Do you want to go home, or don't you?"
    "Of course I want to go home, idiot ." His father's living signature was all that kept the bond from dissolving. If Emyr could convince someone at the Court to annul the compact on technical grounds— which should be simple, considering the circumstances— Aeron and Tammas would be free.
    Aeron at once loved and hated the idea, and didn't care to think of why. The only clear thing was that it must be done.
    "Then stop sulking and come with me to Kamala's. Unless you want me to choose the portal ritual myself."
    Aeron most certainly did not, but he pretended to consider just to be perverse.
    Tam sighed. "Aeron, please. Come down."
    He did, and the way Tam's gaze fixed on his wings as he fluttered to the ground made him hurt. Aeron said, "Stop staring."
    "Stop being beautiful."
    "You know very well that would be impossible."
    One corner of Tam's mouth twitched upward.
    Much like the first time he'd seen that expression, Aeron struggled not to answer it in kind and failed. The reaction made him at once more miserable and infinitely lighter.
    Then the moment passed, and Tam turned toward the path. Aeron followed, feelers curled tight to his wings, fingers curled tight into fists.
    ****
    Aeron wanted nothing more than to have a warm meal and a bed and stop thinking. Words in every tongue imaginable seemed to float in the air before his eyes, as if they'd burned themselves into his vision. Tam had memorized the simple ritual they chose and copied it out just in case; really, they could have done it there and then.
    But something nagged at Aeron, something he should do before he went, and Tam didn't seem keen to get to it either. Neither shared their reasons on the silent walk home. When they reached the house, Tammas took his hand and pulled him inside before Aeron could make a show of trying to decide whether to go back to the tree.
    After supper, while Tam was having a bath, Aeron decided what he needed to do. He stole out back to the herb garden, produced the single dried aeronberry he'd taken from Kamala's stores, and placed it on the tilled ground as near to the house as possible; they liked the shade, after all. He pushed it deep into the damp earth with two fingers and reached out with his magic. The seeds within woke from their long sleep slowly. Aeron coddled the new life, wrapped it in soggy warmth and all the nutrients of the soil. Tammas took such care with his compost, it was safe to accelerate things without sucking all the goodness from his little plot of earth.
    When the first small shoots emerged, Aeron withdrew his fingers from the soil. He brushed the central stalk as it sprouted into a tiny but viable bush, careful not to push too hard with his magic and harm the tender thing. He worked with it until he heard Tam splashing and knew he would be standing up to dry.
    Aeron admired his handiwork. No pink berries yet, which would serve as an even better reminder, but it wasn't quite the season. He was confident it was strong enough to survive without him.
    When he went back inside, Tam was drying off with a soft blanket, his wet hair standing on end like the crest of some preposterous bird. "That's a lot of magic you're spilling out there."
    "I was saying goodbye," Aeron said, eyeing first the pretty man, then the still-shifting bathwater by the fire.
    "New pot should be hot, if you want a turn. Can go home smelling sweeter than usual." Tam's smile was crooked but genuine.
    Aeron stripped, and Tam poured the boiling water into the metal tub, releasing the sweet smell of lavender oil. Aeron slipped inside, knowing he was watched and deriving an odd, quiet satisfaction from it.
    He crossed his arms over the edge of the tub and rested his chin on them, letting the hot water soothe his skin and wings. Tam pulled on his smallclothes and went to his apothecary table. The muscles in his bare back played temptingly as he ground herbs for tomorrow's fresh concoctions.
    Aeron wished, against all sense and reason, that he could be there to walk through his forest with him to Kamala's tomorrow. To deliver the bag full of jars and packages and receive yesterday's money and food in return. To drink a cup of tea and taste her sweet bread