Page 52 of Zel
“You wanted me to discover all this, about how you might die, because youwantme to drain you, to be powerful enough to succeed and… kill you.”
“Such a horrified look on that sweet face. Is it not as fulfilling for you if your target wishes to die?”
Zel had never been quick to tears, but ever since the morn he’d broken down before his trek to the tower, his eyes could grow hot in moments.
“Forgive my awful jest.” Ulrich rolled the cart out of the way and moved to the bed to sit at Zel’s hip. “That was unthinking of me. But yes, I always knew why you came here, and that you are…” He brought his lips to Zel’s ear and finished in a gravelly whisper, “such a fair lad.”
Zel’s eyes sprang wide at the triggered memory of the old woman he had quite literally run into on the night of his final assassination.
“A useful trick.” Ulrich shrugged. “One I even taught to my apprentice. Disguises are always useful, but unassuming ones, weak, frail ones that appear less threatening, are better suited for manipulating others. I was just so curious to get an early look at you.”
As surprised as Zel felt, the amazement quickly faded. Of course Ulrich had known everything all along. He had planned for this, for every step, every stage, to happen exactly as he had wanted it to. “But why? Why do you want to die? To give all this up. You have everything.”
Ulrich sighed as if he had heard such reasoning before. “Immortality itself is more of a curse than most believe until they have it. I initially planned for you to drain enough from me to become immortal in my place—as punishment, not a gift. I assumed you would have been raised cruelly, deserving of such an end, being the babe of thieves and assassins, but you proved me wrong. You can be brutal when threatened, but everything in nature has defenses. The truly vile people of this world deserve to be dispatched, and I am one of those.
“When the time comes, you will still be able to drain enough from me that I can be killed, but you will not have to suffer with immortality unless you wish for it, and I plead with you, Zel, do not wish for that. It is the true curse even if it takes ages to realize it.”
Zel’s eyes were still hot, burning, but the scowl he formed kept any tears from falling. “You never wanted someone to marry.”
“No. I wanted an end. But you almost could have made me reconsider.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“Zel—”
“Please, Ulrich.” One tear slipped free, streaking down Zel’s cheek, and as Ulrich reached to wipe it away, Zel grasped his hand and held it to his face, pleading, “Stay.Live. For me.”
“Zel…” Ulrich tried again, but Zel spoke on, still holding Ulrich’s hand to his face.
“At least let me say my piece before you answer.”
Ulrich sighed again but nodded. “If you insist.”
Zel brought Ulrich’s hand to his lips and kissed the inside of his palm where the mark that had become his curse was carved. Then Zel tossed the covers from him and left the bed. Ulrich’s gaze upon his backside as he strode across the room was potent enough to warm Zel’s skin.
“If you want my attention on your words, Zel, you are making it rather difficult to focus.”
Zel pursed his lips as he retrieved another of Ulrich’s robes, leaving it, like Ulrich had, parted to just past his navel where he cinched it closed. “Try harder,” he volleyed back. His still unbound hair dragged behind him like a train of spun gold. “Can you project into this room part of my past like you did your own?”
“You can project it yourself,” Ulrich said. “You have more magic in you than you yet know how to wield. As with magically braiding or unbraiding your hair, simply will it.”
Zel turned to take in the room, deciding how best to do this. He settled on facing away from the bed, with Ulrich seated behind him, and the room in front of them fell away. The bed remained as if on a precipice, and they were on a balcony like when Zel had learned the first truths of Ulrich's past.
Beyond, scenes began to play, and a city came into focus, Falchovari as it had been twenty winters ago. The view zoomed in through the streets to the Pied Pipers music shop. It was a clever name for the place, not only because their surname was Piper, but due to the multicolored orpiedbrickwork of the exterior, alternating between red, brown, and gold.
“Allow me to share with you my story this time,” Zel said, and as he began his turn at the history lesson, emanating from within the shop came the sounds of a baby crying.
ULRICH
The first scene Zel displayed to Ulrich showed the panic that had followed his entrance into the world.
“My parents, Gregor and Sophie, told me that my cries pierced through their bedchamber walls, where my mother had allowed in only the physician, a male midwife who our guild master had secured for us.”
Ulrich knew female midwives were more common. A male physician to assist with childbirth would have been reserved for the very wealthy.
“My father entered the room as soon as he heard me,” Zel continued.
Ulrich stood to join Zel at the railing of the manifested balcony.
