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Waylon's Crossing - 10. Chapter 10: A Frank Conversation
Waylon's Crossing
Chapter 10: A Frank Conversation
The door slammed behind the prince with a dull, final sound. Kynan stared at the thick wood wordlessly, unable even to think beyond the relief that turned his limbs to jelly.
Trembling, shaking, and sobbing so hard he had to feel rather than see where he was going, Kynan dragged himself back into the one spot of relative safety he'd found. He kept swallowing, trying to dislodge the muddy aftertaste in his mouth. His head still hurt from the elemental's attack -- what had that been? Not even holy water could match the agony he'd gone through in those few seconds.
Why is this happening to me?
He hurt, but it was just a beating. He shouldn't feel so worn out, and his head! He was hungry, too, and his sense of time was off. What time was it? How long had he been here? Where was he?
Reaching his spot, Kynan dug in, making himself as comfortable as possible, while also ensuring that he couldn't be easily dragged out. Shivering, he took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down, to stop crying, and to really start to think. He couldn't afford to panic; he had to stop that right now, but forcing his mind away from the terror that was the elemental was difficult. He couldn't get past the dreadful ripping sensation in his head, the feeling that he was being torn away from himself -- that he was losing himself.
Somebody help me! Please, please, fuck, help me.
He bit down on a knuckle, drawing blood. His heart still pounded madly in his chest and he had to fight himself just to breathe. Desperately, he tried to bring something -- anything! -- into his mind to distract himself from that horrifying experience. He was going to go mad if he didn't stop re-hashing the elemental's attack.
Azil. But that made him think about Karadur, which made him think of the Queen. He shivered. He was a dead man if he couldn't get out of here! Had Alan gotten his message? He hadn't really gotten to speak to him, he'd been hurting so badly, he needed to see him again, and that was so bad. Really? A kid? And a werewolf at that? This was crazy, and yet, he couldn't stop thinking about him.
He pictured the werewolf pup as he'd first met him, covered head to foot in soot, hair standing up, eyes bright with excitement. Having just concluded his business with Alan's father, there was a shocking explosion from the back room, and billowing clouds of smoke and soot. Somewhere in there had been Alan, giggling, eyes dancing with success.
At the smithy for a sword, Kynan had found so much more. As that old, familiar memory stretched out behind his lids, he felt his muscles ease and sighed. He kept thinking about it, picturing the smith's shop in his mind, the elder Mammon behind the counter, weapons and horseshoes on the walls, the sounds of the forge echoing from the back room, Alan standing in front of him, guns in hand, still dirty and sooty, both anxious and pleased, chastising him over the care of the weapons, hopeful that they'd be all he'd desired. So young, so very young.
He sighed and, when he was ready, he reached for the dreamscape.
//.. Enter Dreamscape..\\
The familiar city rose up around Kynan and he stretched, working loose stressed knots in his muscles. He started off down the street and stopped, looking at his left foot. He shook it, but the iron bracelet and attached chain remained, rattling. With a frown, he fit both hands around the shackles, but still they would not budge. He shook the foot, irritated beyond belief that he could not get it off.
"Blast! Blast!" he muttered darkly. "Dammit! I just can't concentrate!" He tugged at the chain some more, but the skyline lurched uncomfortably and he swore again. "Fine! Damn the thing anyway!"
Growling with frustration, Kynan straightened, reaching out for that wet-dog scent that was Alan. He felt nothing, and the panic surged back in his chest. Where was he? He had to talk to Alan!
Mentally chiding himself, Kynan breathed in deeply through his nose. There was any number of reasons why Alan might not be asleep. It could be the middle of the morning, for one.
"Alan?" he called. "Alan, are you there?"
Kynan strode down the street, the chain rattling behind. He glanced at it from time to time; the noise grated on his ears and the extra weight was tiring, but he couldn't bear to stay still. He let his feet carry him along the twilight streets without worrying too much about where he wandered, and stopping every now and then to call. He'd just have to wait, until he could no longer maintain the dreamscape. Perhaps he'd get lucky....
He knew immediately when Alan's consciousness impinged on the dreamscape. He hastened in that direction at once. When he did find him, Kynan saw the pup curled up on an old porch. He smiled and moved forward quietly until he could step into Alan's dream.
He looked around, surprised as he so often was with the changeable scenery. Alan rarely dreamed of the same thing twice. This time, he was in a park, complete with joggers and trees and birds singing. Across the lawn were clowns and balloons and a mime entertaining a gaggle of laughing children. Alan sat on a wooden-slated bench facing away from the park and toward a small lake, his wolfish head and ears just visible over the back, and his tail slipped between the slats. There were ducks paddling around the water and Kynan laughed to himself at the image he had of Alan splashing around the lakeshore chasing the birds, but, hmm, that was interesting, he really did look like he was waiting for something. Was he aware that Kynan had been calling?
Kynan paused. He had spent a lot of time dream-diving, spying on others' dreams. They were useful in that he'd gotten himself out of trouble a time or two in court with blackmail information, and there were nightmares he could copy and twist for his own use. There were also dreams like this one, calm and pleasant, that acted as a balm for his weary heart. Kynan had spent far too much time visiting Alan's dreams for his own comfort, but Alan's mind was so active and inventive that his dreams were an irresistible lure. Just being here again, in Alan's world, calmed him down still more, though he conversely felt even more like crying, just in seeing a familiar face, and someone that was not going to hurt him or try to kill him. He took a couple deep breaths to steady his nerves.
He held up his hand, giving the dreamscape a little nudge. A flat disk took shape in his palm and, as he moved closer, he lobbed the toy directly over the werewolf's head. At the last second, Alan ducked, ears flattening, turning to look at him. Kynan grinned and limped over, shaking his head.
He teased, "You were supposed to catch that!"
Whatever Alan had been about to say, he changed it, smirking a little. "Nice pants."
"I -- what? Crap." Kynan looked himself over, too, and blushed, cursing. He shivered and hiked up the trousers, pulling at the dreamscape to try and alter his appearance. It was weird, he'd never felt awkward around Alan before. But then, he'd never appeared practically naked before him either. Werewolves weren't exactly prudes, but after the day (days?) he'd had, it was enough to make anyone nervous. Or was this another of those times when his human half did things the rest of him just didn't understand?
Alan, watching him fumble and blush furiously, fought back a laugh, knowing that laughter would certainly be taken the wrong way, but he evidently didn't conceal his mirth quite well enough, for Kynan gave him an irritated scowl.
"Shut-up, Alan, it's not funny."
Keeping back the chuckles was now a blue-ribbon event, but he managed. Somehow. "Why are you dressed like that, anyway?"
Kynan gave up the effort of changing; he was too tired and settled on just a shirt, the overlarge demon short-pants he'd been given, and the iron anklet that weighed so heavily on his mind that it wouldn't shift away. After all this time, talking to what was essentially a very large dog was no longer the slightest bit odd.
"As to that," Kynan answered Alan with a groan. "It's kind of complicated." He slumped down on the other end of the bench and ran his hands through his hair, taking a firm grip on the impulse that wanted to grab the werewolf and either hug him or shake him and beg Alan to help him, for pity's sake, if that was the only way to appeal to the kid.
"I've got time," said Alan. "Where were you last night? I came here looking for you, you know. Mind telling me why I couldn't even find a stray scent?"
"Here? What are you talking about?" Alarm spiked through Kynan and he looked up, looked around, half-expecting -- "Shit, Alan! You mean you went to the park?"
Alan's ears swiveled in annoyance. "Yeah. Like in real life."
Kynan stared at him, blushing again at the sarcasm. "Umm ..." How was he to explain? "That's not -- I wasn't -- Alan, what do you remember about that?"
"About what?" Alan retorted. "About me being ripped out of my meditation? About the huge wolf that happened to have your voice? About you crying 'Help me, Alan!' and scaring the living shit out of me? About the nightmare of last night? I remember a hell of a lot, Kynan. But what I remember isn't important. What the hell happened?"
He flinched, but he couldn't look away from those eyes, silently begging Alan to understand. "I-I'm sorry! It was-was only a dream, I couldn't think of anything else to do!"
"Ho -- Why --" Alan broke off his sentence, eyes narrowing still further, to growl, "Are you saying that I came after you because you had a dream?"
"I ..." Kynan shifted uncomfortably. His little pup had bristled up all his fur and was glaring, but he just looked so damned cute, it totally spoiled the effect. Instead of feeling intimidated, Kynan wanted to get his hands up under that fur and scratch the spot on Alan's back that would put that goofy grin on his face. A reaction which, come to think of it, he probably ought not to tell Alan about.
"Kynan ...!"
"Well, I -- I suppose ... I ... I don't know!" he stammered. "That's never happened to me before! Yes -- Yes, okay? That was my dream. Like this is yours." He flung an arm out at the park and the lake around them. "I called you and ... and that's what happened."
"But why?" Alan pressed. "Why were you calling me?"
"Because I can't contact anyone else!"
Alan's tail swished furiously against the bench and his ears went flat. He snapped, "That's not what I meant and you know it! What the hell is wrong with you? I went out, I risked my life to find you, and this is what I get? These vague, half-assed answers? Spill it! What's going on?"
Kynan squirmed under that golden-eyed stare. A demon was only as valuable as the weight of his secrets. In order to make Alan understand, Kynan would have to tell him many things, things best left unspoken. He thought he'd reconciled himself to what he was about to do, but still the thought of giving up even a little was terrifying. He'd tried for the entire time he'd known Alan and his family to protect them. He had to choose his words carefully, and, Daylight help him, he didn't know how to begin! Secrets were only to be given up at great cost and only when the need was very great. Was this such a time? He wasn't sure.
He opened his mouth once or twice, and then, feeling foolish, swore and jumped to his feet. "I'm trying!" he cried, not looking back, crossing and uncrossing his arms. "I'm trying to tell you," he repeated. He turned around, torn between wanting to run away as fast as he could and staying to try and make Alan understand, wondering if he was about to irreparably damage the image Alan had of him.
If he'd said anything, Kynan would have left, but the werewolf stayed silent, just sitting there calmly on the park bench, waiting, neither condemning nor forgiving, just watching.
Forcefully relaxing his fists, Kynan walked back and sat down again. "I'm sorry I scared you. I can't ... I ... this is hard for me." Leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees, he stared sideways at Alan and swallowed. "I'm not ... who you think I am."
Much to Kynan's surprise, Alan rolled his eyes. "Oh, you mean one of the Watch? Yeah. I figured that one out."
Kynan scratched his head. "Yeah, that was pretty stupid, but I couldn't think of anything better. And it did stop you asking any more questions." He frowned. "How long have you known?"
"I'd say a good couple of hours now," Alan replied evenly.
"A couple ... hours?"
"Yeah." Alan sighed. "About that." He'd thought of little else since leaving the precinct. "The Watch was happy to tell me when they let me go. That is, after they interrogated me. Oh, and showed me my cell."
"Cell?" Kynan repeated, yet again feeling slightly foolish." What do you mean, interrogated? Where are you? What happened?"
"You have no idea what last night was, do you?" He didn't even wait for Kynan's headshake, sighing and leaning back on the bench. "It was the full moon, Kynan. I went looking for you as a werewolf." He swished his tail.
"Is that ... I'm guessing that's bad."
For a minute, Alan was torn between frustration and amusement. He supposed his tone came out somewhere in-between. "Yes, Kynan, that's bad. It's very much against the law, and I got picked up by the Watch, booked for 'Reckless Endangerment,' I think, or some such, anyway." He rolled his eyes. "Death by paperwork. Or maybe just insanity ...."
"Was that ... just last night?" asked Kynan, mind racing. So much had happened; he'd been sure that much more time had passed.
Alan chuckled a little, scratching behind one ear. "Yeah, I suppose it was only last night."
"Daylight!" murmured Kynan. "I'm losing all track of time."
Alan's eyes flicked back over to Kynan, now sitting up against the bench. He looked both confused and worried and Alan didn't know whether or not he was meant to hear that last comment, so he just stayed quiet. Eventually, Kynan looked back over at him, concern pulling his brows down into a frown.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm not hurt, if that's what you mean. I've gotten some interesting rope burns from where they tied me up, but those'll heal. It wasn't really all that exciting. A couple hours of form-filling, a couple of interrogation, and then into a cell."
"Daylight, Alan. I'm sorry. Are they going to -- Why were they interrogating you?" Why would the Watch want to question Alan? Did they know? If the Watch knew, then who else knew? No, no! This was all going to hell! This couldn't be happening! He was going to lose everything he'd ever worked for! And Alan!
He wanted to gather the werewolf into his arms and beg him for forgiveness. Stupid human heart!
"I don't know," Alan continued, oblivious. "Look, I didn't ask for your sympathy. Do you want to tell me why I was out there last night? Or why you look like shit? Or why you're so vague with me all the time? Or why --" he interrupted himself, one ear flicking back, his gaze softening a little -- "Or why you would want me to stop asking questions about you? Because if not," Alan sighed tiredly. "Then, please, just go."
Kynan closed his mouth with a click, jerking backward a little. He looked away, jaw working. "It's," he started to say, blinking down at his hands, now picking at the hem of his shirt. "Being vague, I mean, is second nature, I guess. Force of habit. I ... I really am trying."
Alan made no reply, watching as Kynan scooted forward to the edge of his seat, both arms straight on the wood, staring down at the ground, fingers drumming. He could clearly see Kynan's Adam’s apple bobbing as he fought through whatever it was he wanted to say.
"I'm in trouble," Kynan said, speaking slowly, as if testing each word. He stared down at the shackles with their incredibly long chain. Alan still waited, hard-pressed not to fidget himself or prompt him again. His patience was at last rewarded when Kynan glanced back up, his eyes suspiciously bright.
"And you're the only one who might be able to help me." Damn it, Alan was the only contact that Kynan had in the outside world. If he was going to get help, then Alan had to do it. Kynan shivered. He hated what he was doing.
Alan nodded, cautiously, really hoping there was more coming, but wary of interrupting, now that Kynan was finally starting to talk.
Kynan sighed softly, and took that leap. "Have you ever heard of the Dark Court?"
"Yeah, of course," Alan nodded. "It's the council of demons. I think everyone knows that." His own face crinkled a little in confusion. What did that have to do with anything?
"Well, it's -- it's more than that and ... w-well, what I'm trying to say is ... I work for them. F-for the Queen. The Queen of Darkness."
For a minute, Alan just stared. "You?" he blurted. "How?"
Kynan winced, dropping his face into his hands, unable to meet Alan's gaze. "Because," he mumbled, "I'm a demon."
Still staring. "Say what?"
"I'm half, anyway, demon, that is, one of the queen's, um, bodyguards, and, um, bounty hunters, too. We're called the Queen's Hunters. I work directly for her, whatever she tells me to do." He sat up again, but still couldn't bring himself to look Alan in the eye. Since the time of the Demon Wars, there was more acceptance of demons, but there were still races in the world that hated and feared and killed demons on sight. Kynan was one of the few who justified that fear, cultivated it, even. "I kill people," he said quietly, staring at his fingers. "And worse. I'm really ... not a very nice person."
"Why?" Alan wasn't sure he believed all this. Kynan? His Kynan? A demon? Killing people, well, he was sure there was a good reason. He simply couldn't believe his friend capable of killing indiscriminately. This was Kynan, it just couldn't be true.
"Because that's ... it's my job."
So simple, such calm acceptance. Alan stared at Kynan, thinking back on some things he'd always found a little odd about this strange quasi-relationship they seemed to have. "Actually," he found himself saying, "that explains a lot."
"It does?" Kynan asked tentatively, turning his head to study the werewolf.
"Yeah. It does." He nodded. "All right. You're a demon. What else?"
"You mean you don't ... mind?"
"Of course not," Alan replied.
The silence stretched between them again, punctuated only by the ducks out on the lake, but the awkwardness that had been there originally seemed gone, settled into something resembling their old friendship. Alan heard Kynan sigh softly. He leaned back, settling his head briefly on the wood before sitting up again and running his hands through his hair.
Alan wasn't about to waste the opportunity to get a little more out of his normally taciturn companion. "Now tell me, what kind of trouble are you in?"
"W-well," Kynan replied, darting another glance at Alan. "Uh ... The Queen's brother, the Prince, has come back from exile and he's making moves to take over. Demons are like that, you know, they're never satisfied with what they have." He snorted. "They make money-lenders look positively angelic."
"What does that have to do with you?"
"Well, I -- we thought that someone was stirring things up, but we didn't know who. Then the Queen said she'd found out that one of her counselors was spying on her and assigned me to bring him back for, er, questioning ... and that's what's landed me in this mess." That and a little stupidity and overconfidence on my part. "I went to get him and -- o-only they were waiting for me. Somehow they knew I would come. I don't know how they did it -- and it's making me crazy -- and then, the Prince ... He scares the living crap out of me! H-he wants -- he --" Kynan looked away, blushing. He couldn't possibly tell the kid that, what was he thinking?
He ran trembling hands through his hair again in distraction. "I thought he was just after the throne, he was pressing me for information, but then, he just stopped. It's freaking me out!" Kynan paused to catch his breath. "Shit. I really shouldn't be telling you all this!"
"Well, I mean, who else would you tell?" Alan asked calmly. "Is he ... are you hurt, at all?"
"No, no, I'm fine." He shivered, looking down at his feet again. It was just a matter of time now. "Just locked up." It wasn't, exactly, a lie.
Demon. Alan, for all he’d said, was worried about this turn of events. Kynan had seemed human enough, albeit odd in his mannerisms, and though Alan couldn’t say he was surprised -- at least not shocked by it -- it was at least worrying to see how high up he was in rank. A bodyguard for the Queen of Darkness, hadn’t he said? Killing and murdering for her ... Alan could only imagine what else the man had done to gain her respect. And to be held by the Prince ... things were very grave indeed for Kynan, and Alan felt horrible for having been so haughty toward him. It was the last thing the ... the demon needed.
"I'm ... sorry. For before."
Hearing a strange note in Alan's voice, Kynan straightened again, giving Alan a quizzical stare. "Hmm? What do you have to be sorry for?"
"Eh, just that, I thought you'd been -- I'm not sure. I shouldn't have yelled at you."
Kynan shrugged. "No ... I suppose it's just as well." His usual confident smile came out more as a grimace and he shook his head, giving up on the effort. "It really is good to see you, Alan. I thought, well, I wasn't sure if I ... never mind, it's stupid."
Alan blinked, but Kynan looked up, staring quietly at the sky, a slight flush on his cheeks. After another moment, Alan said quietly, "I don't think you're a bad person."
Kynan gave Alan a sharp look. "Really?" It was bizarre, that something so blatantly false could make him feel so good. Kynan was a Hunter. He was not the kind of person someone like Alan should admire, and yet, Alan's words made Kynan feel warm all over.
"Yeah."
Despite his misgivings and the rather peculiar look on Alan's face, Kynan felt a real smile plucking at the corners of his mouth. "Well, Alan, I just ... you don't know me very well. But ... thanks, all the same."
"Maybe not," Alan said. "But I don't know any other demon that would readily play with the local kids in the park." He didn't know any demons at all, but he wasn't going to say that. "That's all." He cocked his head, almost sorry to drag them back into their previous discussion, but ... "Do you know where you are?"
"Perhaps. But most demons don't look like me, either. And, no, I have no idea where I am. I don't have a window, and I wasn't exactly conscious when they brought me here." The fearful worry that had seemed etched on his face when he arrived was back. "Do you think ... can you help me, Alan?"
He scratched his head. "I don't know, Kynan, I just don't know."
"Well," Kynan sighed, setting his palms on his knees with a soft slap. "I suppose ... I had to try. I should go, then."
"Hey!" Alan protested quickly, drawing Kynan's attention again. "I never said I wouldn't help you! Kynan ... I'll find you! Maybe ... well, what would happen if you just, um, go along with it?"
"What?"
"I mean, pretend to be on their side, to buy some time."
A sad, slightly hysterical little laugh bubbled out. Kynan bit it back. "Sorry. No."
"That's it? Just 'no?'"
Kynan wanted to grab Alan and shake some sense into him. He begged him with his eyes instead. "You don't understand --"
"You're damn right I don't! This could take a while, you know, I-I don't even know where to start! I suppose I could always go to the Borderlands --"
Kynan jerked upright, twisting to stare at Alan in horror. "No! N-no, you can't! You can't go in there!"
Alan's mouth fell open in astonishment, staring with little comprehension at Kynan's obvious distress. "Why?" he asked. "You don't think I could handle myself there? I live just a few blocks away from the gate, you know. I've dealt with some pretty unsavory people."
"These aren't people, Alan! There's ... you just -- don't, just don't!" Abruptly, staring at the irritation sweeping over Alan's face, Kynan realized that he was forbidding something and halted, his words practically tripping over themselves as he swallowed them back. Mind racing, he tried to think of some way to convince Alan of the complete foolhardiness of what he was suggesting, without making him want to do exactly the opposite, just to prove he could ... even if it was justifiably insane.
"At least ... don't go alone, okay?" he finally said, and winced at how desperate and condescending that sounded. "I'm serious!" he hastened to add. "Promise me! Please."
"I can take care of myself, Kynan," growled Alan. "Come on. I'm not a little kid anymore!"
Fairly desperate now and getting more frantic, Kynan tried to think of something -- anything! -- that he could offer as a valid argument. "This is different! Alan, I -- you just -- if you go, take someone with you, someone who you trust, and who knows their way around, the places --"
"Fine then!" Alan snapped. "Tell me exactly how else I'm supposed to find you, then!"
"I don't know! I don't know! But, please! Promise me?"
Alan's eyes narrowed. "Why do you care so much?"
"I ..." That hadn't been what Kynan had expected to hear. He floundered about again, awkward and feeling more and more foolish by the second. "Because!" he cried. He didn't have a reason, but the thought of Alan wandering around the Borderlands was terrifying. The Borderlands would eat him alive, werewolf or not. He was so damned young! "Because you're doing this for me, and -- I don't want you hurt because ... of me."
"Right," drawled Alan. Then he sighed. "Fine. I promise -- to take someone with me, not to stay away," he made sure to clarify, staring at Kynan.
Kynan groaned, but he supposed that was about as much as he could expect. "Just ... r-remember that there's no rules in there. You've got to look tough enough that most of the folks will leave you alone, but not so tough that you pick fights with everyone else. Okay?"
Alan opened his mouth for another scathing retort -- but Kynan stiffened again, his face draining of color as he fixed Alan with another of his panicky stares.
"Fuck! Alan, I forgot!"
"What now?"
"The Prince said -- well, never mind, but other demons, they're not friends, okay? Whatever they say, don't trust them. Especially if they ask about me. I'm serious. This is very important: you don't know me!" Then he shook his head, missing Alan's bemused expression, swearing, "Crap! That won't work!"
"So no talking about you either?" Alan asked with a snort. "What have you done to make you get so much ... ire?"
Kynan wasn't listening. He rubbed at his temples. This was Karadur he was talking about here. If Alan lied, he'd know, but if he told the truth, he'd still die, because Kynan wasn't supposed to have friendships; they were dangerous. Karadur would kill Alan, because if Kynan had a friend, then who knew what he might have divulged, even accidentally, or what that 'friend' might have inferred.
"If ... if a demon tracks you down, asks you about me, then tell him. Tell him what you know, don't lie, he hates that." He continued, almost to himself, "Will that work?"
"Now you're just trying to confuse me. Listen, I'll be okay. I'll make sure I'm prepared, I'll be well armed, and I'll find someone to come with me. Can't that be enough?"
Kynan looked up at him again, distracted.
"I already have a dad, you know," Alan pointed out. "He's pretty strict, too. Likes to give a lot of advice."
"This isn't a joke!" Kynan breathed out loudly, brows furrowed with aggravation at his terrible communication skills. "It's not enough. You need ..." He pulled up suddenly, cutting himself off. He'd been about to say 'You need me,' and had to look away again, closing his eyes against just how much that realization hurt.
Alan took advantage of the break. "I'll be fine. What you need to do is clear your head."
"Excuse me?"
"Okay, yeah, I understand you're in a predicament, but you're about to lose it; you've been on edge ever since you got here and you burst out at nearly everything I say."
Kynan scowled. "I am not losing it!"
"Are you even listening to yourself?" Alan demanded. "Clear your head. Think of something different --"
"What else am I going to think about? It's all I can think about! I h-have to get out of here! B-between torturing me and th-threats and talking and more talking until I want to puke and there's all this shit going on and I just d-don't understand! And you're not helping!"
Alan's eyes widened at this outburst. "Whoa, whoa, hey!"
Kynan threw his hands up in the air, giving a hoarse shout that somehow managed to convey confusion and anger and helplessness all at once. Leaning forward again and placing his hands on his head, he stared at his shackles. "And I can't get this off!" His breath caught on that last word in a low, soft cry and he quickly covered his mouth against any further outbursts. He was so tired, and relieved, and ashamed of the fear that pressed in on him from all sides -- too many emotions, all at once. Squeezing his eyes shut, half-hunched over, he breathed in shallow gasps through his nose, fighting back against the trembling that started in his stomach and pushed up at his shoulders.
Alan froze for a second as what sounded like a sob leaked out from around Kynan's fingers. "Hey, it's going to be okay. Okay? He inched over to nuzzle Kynan's arm, but the man jumped, spinning and lashing out at him, but stopping just shy of actual contact. His startled expression turned to one of fearful horror and he buried his face in his hands again.
"Daylight! I'm sorry, Alan!"
Alan regarded him, heart thumping, for a minute. "Uh, that's okay. Geez, they've really got you in a knot, haven't they?"
Kynan groaned, telling himself, firmly, not to panic. Just what had he expected Alan to do, anyway? He was only a kid; he couldn't exactly knock on the Prince's door and demand his release. That would be suicide, even if Kynan could tell him where the hell he was. He took a few deep breaths to steady his racing heart and nerves and wiped his eyes, irritated and embarrassed by the tears. Nothing was making any sense!
"Look, I'm sorry I got you in trouble, I've -- for bribes or whatever -- I have some money stashed away, you know, in our old treasure place. There's a -- ow -- what the?" Kynan jerked, fell to the ground, and clutched at the bench, the chain about his ankle going taut with tension. "Dammit!" He stared up at Alan, hands digging into the slats. "Just be careful, okay? If my guns get traced back to you, you could be in danger. I -- I mean it. Real danger. And I don't mean the Watch."
He winced at another painful yank on his foot and carefully lifted one hand to grasp at Alan, to draw his hand over just a tiny bit of that thick, shaggy, velvet fur. He knew he shouldn't, but he wanted so badly to have something good to remember, just in case ....
He looked up and held Alan's gaze, wishing he could say more, but he had no idea what he felt, let alone how to say it. "B-be careful, Alan!"
"Ky ...!"
Kynan let go, let the chain drag him and dropped out of Alan's dream, letting go of the dreamscape completely a second later.
- 7
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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