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“I know.”

Galen put his fingers on Piper’s chin and tilted his face up. He was close enough to kiss and Galen knew that he should not, knew that it would tear open all the wounds that hadn’t even begun to heal. And yet…and yet…

His lips brushed across Piper’s and it felt right and Piper’s body against his was right too.

Piper took a deep breath and pushed him away.

Surprise took him for an instant, long enough for Piper to pull free and draw himself upright. Galen actually saw the moment when cold calm settled over the man’s face, like a glaze of hoarfrost on fallen leaves. The sensation of someone chiseling away at his sternum hit again, colder now, as if the frost was falling on his bones.

“We’re nearly at the river,” said Piper. “Are you satisfied that I will not be murdered in broad daylight here?”

Galen nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“I think,” said Piper, “that perhaps we should not see one another again. At all.”

“Piper—”

He held up a hand. “In the interests of preserving what little dignity I have left,” he said, still in that hoarfrost voice, “I think it is for the best.”

And he turned and walked away, and Galen watched him go and felt as if he was being torn in two.

Thirty-Three

Piper told himself that he wasn’t thinking about Galen, and then, after about ten minutes, told himself to stop thinking about Galen.

You were right. You were absolutely right. He knows you were right. And you owe him nothing and he owes you nothing and you were the one mooning around after he’d made it perfectly clear what he wanted. Or didn’t want, as the case may be.

This was all quite true and Piper repeated it four or five times while staring at the painting on his wall without seeing it, living in the memory of that soft, apologetic kiss by the river’s edge.

He could not get that kiss out of his head. For god’s sake, you actually sucked the man’s cock, you’d think that would be what you’re obsessing over, but no, it was a kiss that lasted less than a second. That’s what you can’t forget.

Everything else was lust, he argued with himself. That felt like more.

And that and a ha’penny will buy you a pint at an establishment where the dysentery is included free of charge.

This was inarguable.

He went back and forth a hundred times a day. He would go and see Galen. He would avoid Galen forever. He would. He wouldn’t. The choice played in the back of his head while he worked, until the words lost all meaning and became a stream of IwillIwon’tIwillIwon’t like a mosquito buzzing inside his skull.

Eventually, he went to prayer and the bottle, the two great comforters of humanity since the discovery of gods and yeasts. He spent his day off getting spectacularly drunk, which didn’t help anything much. Prayer didn’t seem to help either, but at least it didn’t come with a hangover the next day.

His thoughts were so jumbled that he hardly knew what to pray for, so he settled on a general, Do you see this whole mess, gods? Please just fix it! I’m begging You! He had a suspicion that most priests would have confirmed this was a very common prayer indeed.

That state of affairs continued for nearly a week, and then the door to Piper’s workroom was flung open and Galen burst through it.

The paladin looked wild-eyed and almost panicked and for a horrible moment Piper thought perhaps he was berserk. His chest was heaving as if he had been running. Then he took a shuddering breath and said, “Piper.”

Piper wanted to go to him. He wanted to wrap his arms around the man. He wanted to slam the door in his face. He wanted to scream or kiss him or fall down. He had no idea what he wanted, so he stood there, still with one gloved hand inside a corpse, and heard himself say, “I thought that we agreed not to see each another again.”

Galen shook his head, slumping against the doorframe, and Piper dared to hope that the paladin was here to tell him that it was all a terrible mistake, that he wanted to try again, that he had been miserable thinking about what he had thrown away.

Instead, Galen licked his lips and gasped, “Earstripe.”

Piper jerked his hand free. The corpse’s liver wasn’t going to get any worse, and it had already been a mess even before he’d started poking it. “Is he hurt? Did his wound reopen?”

“No. No.” Galen shook his head. “They’ve arrested him.”

“What?”