Free Playing With Fire by Sean Michael

living up here in this tower was not helping. Wintras bit his lip, but knew already what he had to do. It was not in his nature to refuse help to those that needed it. He bent and picked Zujan up, heading back for the stairs. The man seemed to weigh nothing, light as a bird in his arms. The wind picked up, screaming through the windows, making him shiver, making Zujan seem even colder. He didn’t bother trying to shut the door behind him as he exited, just headed down the stairs as quickly as he could.
    The faeries spun, trying to push against him, against Zujan.
    “Go away,” he growled, trying to push them away with his arms, hindered by his burden.
    An angry hissing sounded, the faeries glowing brighter, the scent of smoke stronger.
    “Leave him alone!” He moved faster, almost falling down the stairs, getting dizzy as they went down and down and down. Zujan was so cold. Even through both their cloaks it was like holding a block of ice in his arms.
    They reached the bottom of the tower, the door slamming behind them. Zujan’s eyes opened, the black ringed with icy blue.
    Well, the man was alive. Wintras took a breath, not having realized until now how tense he was about that. Zujan dying would free him, but arriving in Zujan’s kitchen with the man in his arms, and dead would likely have gotten him killed. He refused to consider any other possibility for why he might be happy Zujan was still alive.
    “The kitchen’s the warmest room in the castle,” he said by way of explanation as he strode through the old halls.
    “No. Too many people.” Zujan pointed down an old hall. “There’s rooms.”
    “It’s cold here. You need a fire, food.” He turned down the hall though. He could go for food, blankets.
    “I’ll make a fire.” He got a wild grin, Zujan’s eyes rolling.
    He wasn’t sure that was a very good idea—after all, the place had nearly burned down last time Zujan had made one. He didn’t say that though. Besides, he wasn’t convinced Zujan would be able to, the frigid body seemed so weak. He pushed through the door Zujan pointed to, the room they entered small, but clean. The fireplace was prepared, needing only to be lit, and there was more wood stacked next to it. There was a large cushiony chair near the fire and a bed, all made up with blankets and quilts. Someone had obviously been in here in the last weeks, keeping the place as if someone actually used it.
    Who knew, maybe this was really Zujan’s bedroom, the one gone up in flames just for show, for when Zujan…entertained.
    “Oh.” Zujan smiled, relaxing suddenly, slumping in his arms. “Home.”
    Wow, this little place really was Zujan’s room. Funny, how it was unimposing and small, nothing more fancy than books and more books to decorate it. Even the tapestries on the wall were merely serviceable rather than ornate.
    Wintras put Zujan down in the big chair and looked for something to start the fire. Light from the hall flickered in, and he headed back that way—he could use the torch on the fire, if he could get it off the wall. He heard something like a soft whoosh, the dim light from a fire stopping him in his tracks.
    He turned back, watching the fire slowly build. “I wasn’t sure you were going to be able to. You look pretty done.”
    He picked up a couple of blankets from the bed and brought them over to Zujan. The sorcerer looked tiny, young, curled in the chair, cheek resting on one arm. Wintras wrapped the blankets around Zujan, shaking his head at how cold the pale skin was. Zujan needed to be warmed. Body heat was the best for that. Wintras bit his lip. Zujan needed food, too, if he went and got another tray, he could get a couple of boys from the harem at the same time, and they could lie with Zujan.
    Full-body shudders began wracking the thin body, Zujan’s teeth chattering. Wintras couldn’t not help. He couldn’t. Wintras pulled the blankets away and pulled off Zujan’s clothing and then took off his own