Free The Green's Hill Novellas by Amy Lane Page B

turned to him with the greedy love a drowning man shows a rope, and Charlie thought dismally about June, when Whim would be coming for him.
    Whim, forgive me. I owed the world for you, and now it’s time to pony up.

Whim—Suppliant
     
     
    HE’D FELT it, in February, the dreary month when it seemed the siege of his people would never end. He’d felt Charlie’s remorse, a single bloody shaft right to his chest, but he showed up for Litha anyway.
    The sullen young man Charlie brought with him and left at the gap in the graffiti wall looked as though he would rather Whim hadn’t, but Whim was too heartsore to care.
    “I’m sorry, Whim,” Charlie said, walking the rest of the way across the clearing. He wasn’t running and jumping into Whim’s arms, and that hurt too. Whim looked up to where the boy sat. Dark blond hair, maybe, and probably hazel eyes. Whim didn’t care. He was the boy who would take Whim’s boy away from him, and Whim didn’t care what he looked like.
    “You’re not coming,” he said back. “Ever.”
    “It’s not forever!” Charlie burst out, and then he looked hurriedly behind him and grabbed Whim’s hand, pulling him into the trees, dropping his voice. “Me and Daniel, it’s not forever, Whim. It’s not you and me. It never was. It was never supposed to be.”
    “Then why?” The terrible shaft of betrayal seemed to ache where it landed.
    Charlie sighed. “Because you saved me, Whim.”
    “You don’t owe me.”
    “I don’t….” Charlie blew out a breath and scrubbed his hands through his hair. Whim could see one or two threads of silver in it now, not too much, but still, his mortality was glimmering in those silver threads. “I do, but that’s not why I love you. It’s not why I’ve shown up here, year after year. But I owe somebody. God. The world. Somebody. I came here twelve years ago to kill myself, and the universe sent me you instead. Don’t you see? Don’t you see how wildly out of balance that is? This is me, giving back. This is me, sacrificing a year of my life, of happiness with you, to make up for all of the time I’ve had that I wouldn’t have had if you hadn’t shown up.”
    Whim felt his face relax, and some of the pinched misery that had taken up his anticipation of this night faded away. The pain in his chest eased to a dull throb. His people understood good works. They understood giving back. They understood a debt to the Goddess. Whim took several deep, trembling breaths and tried very hard to understand Charlie.
    “He thinks this is forever,” Whim stated, wanting to know if Charlie knew that.
    Charlie shook his head. “Daniel is really troubled, Whim. His disease makes him selfish, and sometimes unkind. He doesn’t know forever. I just need to get him to a place where he’ll take his meds, take care of himself, learn to exist on his own. Once I know he’s not going to… to rob the world of all he’s got to offer, then I can let him see how wrong for each other we are.”
    Charlie’s voice deepened with irritation then, and Whim was heartened (as petty as it was) to see that Charlie didn’t really love this boy. Not like he loved Whim. But still….
    “A relationship based on pity, Charlie?” Whim asked, not liking that idea either. “Is that what you think you and I have been? Is that what you think he wants?”
    Charlie took Whim’s hands then, regardless of eyes that could be watching, and held them up to his stubbled cheek. “I do not doubt, nor have I ever doubted, that you love me for me, beloved,” he said solemnly, and Whim’s heart actually started beating again without feeling like it was pumping through a sucking chest wound.
    “Yes?” Whim asked pathetically, and Charlie eased closer and wiggled, looping Whim’s arm around his shoulders.
    “Not once,” Charlie reassured, leaning against him. Whim’s whole body gave a sigh of relief. He had known he wouldn’t get sex this night, but he hadn’t counted on getting