Page 58 of Burying Venus

‘You will like where we take you,’ whispered the first.

‘All humans do,’ said the second, biting Dermot’s ear.

‘No!’ Dermot cried, astounded as he pushed back. The only vision his mind played was Aubrey, terrified as he woke alone. His heart was so hardened by this that he shoved at the faeries, even as they leered back at him. To think he’d imagined himself as their predator. Now they loomed like two shadows, eyes nothing but pools of black, ceaseless in their pursuit.

Emboldened by terror, Dermot’s hand fumbled for Aleyn’s dagger. ‘Come no closer,’ he warned.

The first creature eyed him curiously, but the second danced forward, sylphlike and pretty. ‘What do you have?’ he laughed, going for Dermot’s wrist with his own bony fingers.

Dermot’s body twisted. The scene before him was no longer the forest, rather it was the beach at evening time, the sea awash with the siren’s blood as she cried out. The faerie screeched and shuddered as she had, dagger plunging into his chest. He was supported by Dermot as his body weakened, streams of red pooling at his lips. Eventually, the faerie stopped struggling, black hair spilling out as blood trickled onto his curls.

The first faerie screamed with such force that the leaves themselves reeled back. His dark form inched forward, scurrying towards his friend as Dermot threw that same creature to the ground.

‘Tell your master,’ Dermot said, breathing hard, ‘that he can’t capture me so easily.’

He hurried away, racing through the trees without so much as glancing back. The pair used the same tricks as Maldred, so he had no doubt who’d asked for their help. Turning as soon as heheard a familiar call, Dermot raced forward and almost collided into Aubrey.

‘Dermot!’ Aubrey sobbed. His eyes welled with tears, pooling down his face to trembling lips. ‘I woke up and couldn’t find you so I waited and, when you didn’t come back, I started looking for you. But I was so worried. I don’t know what I thought, that you were in danger, stolen away by my brother. I was so scared!’

Seeing the boy’s terror, Dermot pulled him directly into his arms. His heart was already thrashing against his chest, too shocked by what he’d done to recoil.

‘Don’t cry,’ Dermot said, nestling his head into Aubrey’s curls. ‘I won’t leave you again.’ Stroking the boy’s hair with his other hand, he unthinkingly kissed Aubrey’s head. ‘You’re safe with me.’

Chapter Twelve

The journey had been difficult. As days passed, Dermot became more irritable, plagued by worry. The island had been preyed on for thousands of years and was now controlled by foreign lords. Fand, their so-called queen and protector, was either powerless or incompetent. He anguished over her assisting them at all. Faeries were mere villains, and their poor island already had too many of those.

‘Dermot,’ Aubrey said, just as Dermot returned from fetching lunch. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t eat meat.’

Dermot grimaced, recalling he’d put Maldred’s concoction in both the wine and the cockentrice. Aubrey consuming less than his brothers explained much. ‘Give it here then. Have mine.’

Aubrey’s lips parted as if about to say more. With eyes lowered, he handed his food over with a low murmur of thanks.

‘I’m typically the same,’ Dermot said. They hadn’t spoken since he kissed Aubrey’s head. ‘The kitchen was unpleasant. The stench, mostly, but to see creatures whole and be tasked with cutting them up… it begs the question of who thought of it in the first place.’

‘You got this for yourself?’ Aubrey asked. Dermot heard the cart creak and knew he was crawling back, food in hand.

‘Please, it’s yours. Servants don’t choose what they’re given. I eat because I have to,’ Dermot said. To prove his resoluteness, he bit soundly into the bread. The stench of meat made his eyes water, the stringiness on his lips and the way it caught in his teeth.

‘How awful for you,’ Aubrey said. ‘I’ve often wondered how my family can bear to partake in it. The meals were, begging your pardon, abhorrent.’

‘I don’t think your family is the best example, really,’ Dermot said, careless.

Aubrey said nothing and inched further away, eyes downcast so Dermot’s mistake was plain to see.

‘No, please, forgive my thoughtlessness,’ Dermot said, fidgeting with the reins in his sweaty palms. ‘Well, I don’t know them. I can’t guess how they behave privately. Only the rumblings of a servant, pay them no mind.’

He was again met with silence and glad of it. They were well into the north now, the wind having worsened so they might’ve been in a gale. Greenery died away to reveal a desolate landscape. There was but one village marked nearby, and he was glad they had no reason to make for it. Little was more miserable than newly created hamlets, having no ambition but finance and industry. Homes fashioned for workmen were modest, their unsightliness proof of the Stanleys’ disdain for them. Innovation was but a tool to these people, not to improve society, but to subject them to worse conditions than before. He was ashamed to have defended them; he would do worse for a glimpse of that porcelain skin.

‘You would be right to hate me,’ Aubrey said, making Dermot startle.

‘Sorry?’ Dermot said. His thoughts had been far away from that. Turning to get a glimpse of his dark beauty, he saw Aubrey’s eyes red-rimmed and sad, a glimmer of a tear running down his cheek. Breath catching in his throat, he said, ‘I could never hate you. You’re sweet as an angel. You suffered at their hands most of all.’ Those black eyes bore into his soul, and he was a loving slave to them. ‘You’re beautiful. When I look at you, I don’t see your brothers, I see you.’

Aubrey drew closer to him. They could’ve kissed. The compliment lashed on Dermot’s tongue like a war cry; a truth he’d never meant to give voice to.

‘That’s all I’ve ever wanted,’ Aubrey said.

Dermot watched him. What they had was fragile; a bond wrought from hardship and loneliness. He was incredulous he’d been trusted with something so precious.