Page 84 of Inferno
Nerik made a thoughtful noise and rolled over, propping himself up on his elbows. “We don’t actually have a finite lifespan. Not the way water-based lifeforms do. Most Chalandrians live from between fifty to a hundred years, depending on which species they are. Infernals are different. We can effectively live indefinitely, so long as we keep our fire burning. Most of the time, that doesn’t happen, because of one of two eventual outcomes.” He met Yorin’s eyes, a stark sadness showing in their blue depths. “A lot of young infernals die around the time they’re about fifty. I know that for a human, fifty isn’t particularly young. But for a being that’s theoretically immortal, it’s a short life. That’s about the age they start trying to gain more mastery over their fire. They take risks, they see how hot they can burn, some of them get careless and get caught out in storms, and they get too wet and their fire goes out. It takes a great deal of patience and caution to learn where the limits are without accidentally killing yourself.
“Or the other end result is that infernals eventually get tired of living. A couple of hundred years watching the rest of the world be born, grow and die wears on you eventually. So at some point, infernals choose to put their fire out.”
Yorin waited for some further explanation on that one – a handful of examples as to why a person would choose to kill themselves, or an indication of how old said person would be when they made that choice… but Nerik said nothing else.
“Have you ever been tempted to put your fire out?” he asked warily. Given the difficulties Nerik had already lived through, it wasn’t unreasonable to think he might have considered it.
“No. Not yet,” Nerik said, surprising Yorin. “For the first hundred years, I was too young to really think about it. Then after that, I could see what was happening to Chalandros. I decided I wanted to cross the gate, to see if I could survive in the human world. So I didn’t really think about much else until I finally made that happen. And then I got here and met you…” He let the sentence trail off, while his eyes roamed appreciatively up and down Yorin’s chest.
“I’m going to get old,” Yorin said, a stark truth that was unavoidable. “Humans age in a very predictable way. If I’m lucky, I’ll live until I’m about eighty, and then…”
“By that point, I’ll be approaching three hundred,” Nerik said, with an unnerving lack of concern. “It’s not a bad lifespan, for an infernal.” At Yorin’s frown, Nerik gave him a playful shove. “It’s more than fifty years away,” he said, wry forbearance curving his lips. “Don’t start worrying about things that far into the future. We’ve got more than enough problems to deal with just getting through tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow can wait,” Yorin said, sliding an arm around Nerik’s waist and tugging him closer. “There’s plenty more of tonight that I want to enjoy first.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Walking into town with Nerik the following morning, Yorin deliberately ignored the stares of the people who stopped in the road to watch them pass. He was holding Nerik’s hand, keeping his body relaxed and his expression as carefree as possible. The best way to fight people’s disapproval, he’d decided, was to give them the firm impression that he didn’t give a shit what they thought.
To a certain extent, it was true. He was done with attempting to appease the masses, with bowing to the warriors, with apologising for daring to wear clothes that were pushing the boundaries of fashion. He was done with toeing the line.
And yet…
A middle-aged woman stopped in her tracks and shrieked when she saw Nerik, looking him up and down like a rotten cabbage and darting out of his reach. A pair of younger women stared at them with wide eyes and whispered behind their hands. An elderly man scowled at the pair of them, shook his head and muttered, “Disgraceful!” before hobbling away.
“Oh, Nerik!” a sing-song voice called, and Yorin braced himself for some cutting words or sarcastic commentary. They both turned to look, seeing Claire, from the bakery, poking her head out of the shop door. “Nerik, would you be a dear and drop by when you’ve got a moment? I’ve got a delivery to go out to a customer with your name on it.”
Nerik seemed baffled for a moment, but recovered quickly. “I’ll stop by this morning,” he promised Claire.
“Smashing! Toodle-oo!” She disappeared back inside the shop with a cheery wave.
“Well, I won’t be buying fromheragain,” an aging woman muttered, before marching swiftly away.
“Um, Claire’s not… I mean… she’s human, right?” Yorin asked Nerik, as quietly as possible.
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Absolutely.”
“Well,” Yorin said, not quite sure what to make of her very public gesture. “That’s nice of her.”
A short way further on, another lady poked her head out of her shop. “Nerik, sweetheart, I’ve got a job for you later today. Come by after lunch?”
“Will do,” Nerik replied, less surprised about this one, since Yorin now knew that the woman who’d made the request was a Chalandrian. It was good of her to make a public statement about still using Nerik as a messenger, but they were going to need more than just the Chalandrians in town supporting them to turn the tide of public opinion. Still, it was a promising start to the day.
But only a short way further, they passed a pub with a new and very visible sign out the front. It read ‘No Demons’. That was more what Yorin had expected from the town this morning… but then as he watched, a portly gentleman approached the pub – though it was not yet nine o’clock in the morning – and he paused to read the sign, looked the pub up and down… and walked away, with a look of derision on his face. He looked up and saw Yorin watching him, and Yorin braced himself for some unkind comment or to be told to mind his own business.
“Don’t see why they give a shite who’s drinking their ale,” the man said, seeming quite indignant about it. He nodded to Nerik. “His coin’s just as good as anyone else’s. Their loss.” He shuffled away, muttering to himself.
“It seems the battle lines have been drawn,” Yorin murmured.
“Should be an interesting day,” Nerik said, as they drew to a stop in front of Yorin’s shop. “Well. Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need luck,” Yorin told him with a smile. “You’ve got that sparkling charm on your side, along with half a dozen locals willing to beat the troublemakers with a wooden spoon.” Without really thinking about it, he leaned down and kissed Nerik lightly on the lips. Then, once he realised what he’d done, and in such a public place, he stepped in closer and gave him a proper kiss, cupping Nerik’s face in his hands. If he was going to make a public statement, he might as well do it properly. “Come back here once you’ve finished your deliveries,” he told Nerik. “I know you’re perfectly capable of looking after yourself, but I’d feel better if I can walk you home. Just to make sure no one tries anything stupid.”
Nerik smiled, running a finger across his own lip as if savouring the feel of Yorin’s lips against his. “They wouldn’t dare,” he said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced about it.
Just then, a loud screech got the attention of everyone on the street, and they all looked up to see a huge black dragon – or rather, a vreki – fly over the city, heading towards the gate.
“The tide is turning,” Nerik said, softly enough that he wouldn’t be overheard. “Vreki, unicorns, and now an infernal? Give it a couple more cycles and the humans won’t know what hit them.”
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