Page 157 of Stars

“It is enough for me to save myhutechi,” he said, squeezing Sergey’s hand. “And save the heart, and hope, of the man he loves.”

* * *

Ten days later,Sasha and Mark walked out of their isolation room.

Sasha went straight to see Kilaqqi, leaning on Sergey as they walked.

The old man had recovered but was weaker, frailer. Instead of dying, the virus had sapped his strength, and he’d aged ten years in ten days. His body had wasted, and his once-strong shoulders were stooped, his back hunched. He brightened, though, when he saw Sasha.

Sasha pressed his hand against the glass. Kilaqqi mirrored his movement, his palm to Sasha’s, separated by the barrier, as Sergey steadied Sasha around his waist.

They would never again touch, not for the rest of their lives. “The virus lives within me,” Kilaqqi said, “as it did in my brother before me. But it does not live inside you.” He smiled.

Like his brother before him, Kilaqqi was an asymptomatic carrier: a Typhoid Mary, but for a sickness far darker, far deadlier.

“Can’t they find a cure for you, like you cured us?” Sasha asked.

“I am the virus’s host now. We are symbiotic. Neither one of us can kill the other.”

It was the price of his immunity, it seemed: he could cure others, but he could not cure himself.

Sasha pressed both his hands to the glass. “You can’t live in this box forever.”

“No, I cannot.” Kilaqqi smiled. “General Song has agreed to take me back to Tura and then help my people escort me to Putoransky. I will live in isolation, in Lazarus’s cabin, for the rest of my days. My people will guard me, and provide for me.”

“That’s like living on the moon.”

“I will be living in the arms of our great world, nestled in the belly of the forest among the eternal mountains and beneath the great sky. Is there any other place for a shaman to live?”

“With people,” Sasha whispered. “In your home. Somewhere I can come to you. I don’t want to let you go.”

“You will always be with me,Hutechi,” Kilaqqi said. He placed his hand on his heart. “We will always be connected, in this world and beyond.”

Sergey held Sasha as his tears started to fall, as his body trembled. “This is my fault. You are sick because of me. I did this—”

“Shh,Hutechi. I am sick because I would not let you go. Because I love you. And because I was able to give you a part of my life to save your own. You carry me inside you now. Wherever you go, I will be with you.” He patted his chest over his heart again. “We are together, and I am happy. You arealive.”

Sasha still cried, giant, aching sobs that brought him to his knees. He leaned against the clear wall, forehead to glass to Kilaqqi as Sergey rubbed his back. Sasha’s spine stuck out from his skin, knobs of bone where there used to be muscle. Sergey could feel the rise and fall of Sasha’s ribs, the ridges of his shoulder blades. Sasha had been the most powerful man Sergey had ever known, shoulders as broad as the horizon, a chest he could get lost in for days. Now he was almost light enough for Sergey to pick up and carry.

“We will see each other again in this life,Hutechi,” Kilaqqi said when Sasha could breathe again. Sasha’s red-rimmed eyes made Sergey want to scream, kick-started a primal fear inside his soul.

But no, those were tears in Sasha’s eyes, not blood. He was alive. He was alive, and he was himself. He was not the creature of Sergey’s nightmares. The lights were on. This was Sasha.

“One day, you will return to take your steps down the shaman’s path. When you do, I will be there to show you the way.” Kilaqqi’s gaze lifted above Sasha’s head and met Sergey’s. “I will see you both again.”

* * *

They made love for days,relearning each other’s bodies.

Sergey mapped every inch of Sasha with his lips, his hands and his kisses and his love. He poured himself into Sasha, spreading his soul into every corner of his lover. He would exorcise the darkness, banish the nightmares, send Lazarus’s horror away for good. He would replace the evil with his love.

They kept every light on, turning the room they were given in the compound into a solar equinox. Sasha shied away from the darkness, from shadows. When the wind whipped down the concrete walls and a skittering sound crawled under their door, he leaped to the bed and pressed his back into the corner of the room, eyes wide, fingernails cracking as he clung to the walls. He fell into Sergey’s arms after, curling into his lap and grasping Sergey’s waist.

“Do you need to go back to the Kremlin?” Sasha asked after another long, lazy round of lovemaking, of Sergey riding him for an hour before Sasha rolled him over and spread his legs, thrusting as deeply as he could, as if he wanted to crawl inside Sergey’s soul forever.

“No,” Sergey said simply. He laced his fingers through Sasha’s and kissed his knuckles. “I never have to go back to the Kremlin again.”

Sasha froze, then came up on his elbow, staring at Sergey’s profile. He swallowed.