Page 147 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
“Divine,” sighed Beau, sliding in after him and drifting to the other side of the pool. Dillon followed after, a little sheepishly. He sunk into the water until only the mottled skin of his neck and shoulders was visible. Great, ragged stitches protruded from his chest, across his shoulder, and down his back. Caer had some dim memory of the manticore chomping down on him. He’d bear those marks forever. They wouldn’t even be able to take out his stitches. How much more of this could he endure and still survive? How much would he want to?
Caer kept his distance from both of his companions. “Wouldn’t want to risk unaliving you,” he said. “Um, again, in your case, Dillon.”
“I may not be the smartest person, but I know that ‘unaliving’ is not a word.”
“Believe me, it fits.”
Caer stretched out against one of the rocks, flexing his aching muscles. Beau looked at him, and then down sharply, hugging his legs to his body.
“Maybe I should have bathed alone…” he murmured.
A purr sounded from across the pool. Caer glanced up, and saw Hecate seated on one of the rocks, staring at them all. She was a very odd feline, utterly nonplussed by all the battle going on around them, even more relaxed than the battle-reared wargis.
“I’m not sure I like that cat,” he remarked.
Beau pouted defensively. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s not exactly cat-like… She looks at you like she knows things.”
“You aren’t very familiar with cats, are you?” He shook his head. “Enough about her, anyway. I think it’s time to tease Dillon about Luna.”
Dillon looked down into the steamy water, and Caer was sure, if he had a normal, functioning heart, he would have been blushing.
“She’s as sweet as the muffins she makes,” he mumbled.
“You can’t even taste her muffins,” Beau said, frowning.
“It doesn’t matter. They’re the sweetest, bestest muffins ever.”
“Bestest is not a word.”
Dillon snorted softly.
“What?” Beau frowned.
“I can’t remember if you remind me of neither of your parents or both of them. Correcting grammar though… that’s something they both used to do when we were at school together. I remember they once corrected mine at the same time and they were bothso angryabout it. It was probably one of the first things they ever had in common.”
“It’s so strange that that was just a few years ago for you.”
“You’re telling me.”
“But back to Luna,” Beau prompted. “Anything going on there?”
Dillon did not meet his eyes. His body seemed to shrink in the water. “I’m not sure I’m in a good position to court her with… you know.” He shrugged his massive, mottled shoulders. “I can’t even touch her. Or, you know, I can, but I can’t feel it. And it might be unpleasant for her to be with someone so… dead.”
Beau went quiet for a moment, before skirting a little closer. “If it helps, you don’tsmelldead,” he said. “And I’m sure we could cast some very tangible glamours when we’re back in Faerie. If you wanted. I’m not sure what we can do about the not being able to feel business but… it’s not a hopeless situation. Nothing is.”
Dillon nodded glumly, but Caer could tell he didn’t fully believe him. Even a spark of hope still felt marred by difficulties. True happiness seemed unlikely.
“Did I tell you that Aoife composed a ballad in your honour?” Beau continued, voice bright.
Caer had no idea who Aoife was, but Dillon’s eyes shone at the name. “She did?”
“Very stirring. Very moving. How did the chorus go again?Ser Dillon he was brave and true, a knight of the heart, through and through. It took a king to bring him down, and now—”
“He’s buried beneath the ground,” Dillon finished.
Beau blinked. “Did Aislinn tell you?”
