Page 22 of Inferno

But for the first time since he’d begun visiting these mountains, Nerik found himself hesitating before he started taking his clothes off. He had no reason to be bashful or embarrassed; female infernals had no interest in the naked human form.

But he was supposed to reproduce with one of them. He was, in human terms, at least, about to have sex – of the fire-based equivalent of it – with someone, with the specific intent of making a new little person. It was a simple enough process, and one that Nerik had done dozens of times in the past, with no reason to question it.

But this time, as he reached for the bottom of his shirt to remove it, the image of Yorin smiling at him in the pub stuck in Nerik’s mind. Yorin, in his forest-green shirt, looking like a glimmer of paradise. Yorin being shy and bashful. Yorin laughing at one of his jokes.

Yorin’s abortive attempt to kiss him, for he was now convinced that’s what it had been.

A rolling nausea set up shop in his belly, heat from his inner fire surging and swirling with his roiling emotions.

Logically, it made no sense. For infernals, this was a simple matter of reproduction. There was no emotional investment in it, no pleasure, in the sense that humans gained enjoyment from sex. Socially speaking, it was no different from if Nerik had helped his neighbour build a new woodshed – no cause for jealousy, no implication of an ongoing connection or commitment.

And yet for humans – for Yorin – reproduction and all the physical complications that went with it were cause for a great deal of emotional angst, expectations of exclusivity, anger at the idea of being betrayed.

“Nerik?” Vonta prompted him, when he didn’t move.

“Yeah, um… could we maybe…” Gods, what was he supposed to do? “Could we just do this some other time?”

Vonta looked at him like he’d lost his mind. He could literally see the smoke rising from her head in her anger and confusion. “Some other time? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Well, I…” Fuck, did he actually have to explain this? It would make no sense to an infernal. Infernals didn’t have romantic relationships. They barely had friendships. “I’ve… met someone,” Nerik attempted to explain the situation.

“You meet people all the time,” Vonta said, completely missing the point.

“No, I mean, I’ve… It’s kind of a human thing. Or like the hadathmet, or the salases. I’ve met someone that I’m…” Gods, was he really going to say it? “That I’m romantically interested in.”

Vonta stared at him blankly. “Infernals don’t form romantic commitments.”

“No. But I’ve been living among the humans for a long time, and I guess I’ve… I’ve seen the benefits of social connections.” Putting it that way made it sound so dry and clinical, and did nothing to explain the burst of warmth he felt every time he saw Yorin, the way his fire swirled and danced, the lightheaded feeling he got from too much heat rising. “And among humans, they tend to get very offended if someone they’re romantically involved with goes and reproduces with another person.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Vonta told him, and he braced himself for a lecture about how foolish it was to get emotionally involved with a human. But fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on his perspective on it – Vonta took an entirely different angle with her complaint. “You are literally the only male infernal who has ever crossed the gate. Three of our surviving sparks are male, but it’ll be years – decades – before they’re old enough to reproduce. If you don’t help us, you’re condemning our species to extinction.”

It was the truth, and the only argument to which Nerik had no rebuttal. The only argument that he really couldn’t refuse.

“Fine,” he snapped, undressing as quickly as he could manage, tossing his clothes angrily into a pile. He removed the obsidian gem, feeling a jolt as his body returned to its native form, both far more comfortable than his human form, and oddly, somehow foreign now as well, after having spent so much time as a human. “Let’s get this over with.”

He marched over to the pyre and snatched up a handful of flame from the small campfire sitting beside it. He cast the fire onto the wood, then held his hand in the flame. The heat rushed up and through his body, connecting with his inner fire. His body heated, and Nerik watched as his hand, then his arm, then his entire body were engulfed in flames. He leaned forward and merged his body with the fire on the stack of wood, losing all semblance of physical form, at the same time as he became acutely aware of every flicker of flame, every pocket of gas, every lump of charred coal and every snippet of the breeze that toyed with the flames. Hewasthe fire, and he felt a sense of liberation that he hadn’t felt since the end of the last cycle, the latest time that he’d been up here on the mountain.

Vonta quickly joined him in the fire, for all that she was annoyed at him over his attitude about the whole thing, and Nerik felt her essence merge with his own as the flames spread over the wood. If he’d still been in human form, he would probably have felt like throwing up.

What the hell was he going to tell Yorin? Well, the truth was that if Yorin didn’t know he was an infernal, then Nerik was never going to tell him anything about this. There was no possible way Yorin could find out about this convoluted infidelity for as long as Nerik himself didn’t tell him.

And if they actually reached a point where Nerik could come clean about his true self? Well then, perhaps if Yorin was open minded enough to accept a demon as a lover, he might also be able to understand the biological requirement to make enough offspring to save their species?

Perhaps that last part was wishful thinking, but it was all Nerik had to cling to, as he took firm control of Vonta’s flame and shoved their entwined forms down into the nest of twigs.

Half an hour later, Nerik was back in his human form, dressed again, and heading down the mountain. He’d barely bothered to say goodbye, had said nothing at all to any of the sparks he’d fathered over the years. But he felt soiled, like someone had thrown a shovelful of dirt into his fire, and damned if he was staying here a minute longer than he had to.

Behind him, ignoring his abrupt departure, Vonta cradled a tiny flame in her arms, flickering tentatively in the bed of oak twigs. Gods willing, this one would survive.

CHAPTER TWELVE

When Yorin woke in the morning, it was to grey skies and blustery wind. He peered out the window of his room, seeing leaves, twigs, and some poor soul’s hat being tumbled along down the street. And though it was late summer, his room felt chilly, air seeping in through small gaps around the window. If he could possibly afford it, he was going to have to get that fixed before winter.

He dressed quickly, choosing a breakfast of simple bread and fruit, rather than pastries, then settled in for a day of sewing and tending to customers. The weather was keeping people indoors where possible, rather than outside roaming the streets, and so the day passed slowly, Yorin finishing everything that was due in the next few days and getting ahead on a couple of orders not due until next week.

Finally, at about four o’clock in the afternoon, he decided to pack up for the day and head over to Nerik’s house. He was longing to see the man again, eager to hear about his trip up the mountain and have another conversation about something more intricate than which shade of yellow was best for a new blouse.

He put on a coat and locked the shop door behind him, then walked quickly as he headed through town, exchanging a smile and a nod with a couple of people he knew, but avoiding getting caught up in conversation. Thankfully, though, no one wanted to linger too long outside, the temperature having dropped another few degrees and the wind having kept up its gusty fits all day.