Rise: A Gay Fairy Tale (6 page)

With a snort of disgust, he shook his head. Here he was daydreaming about this Outsider as if he was one of the valiant knights in the books lining the library walls.
Pathetic
.

Hours crawled by, and Rion hadn’t heard any sounds for some time. The intruder was likely in the far reaches of the castle. Yet the fear that had been gnawing quietly at Rion grew sharper teeth
. What if he’s gone? What if he gave up and escaped?
Rion tugged with his arms and legs again, sudden panic sucking the air from his lungs. This Jack wouldn’t leave him here to die.
Would he?

Rion became very aware of how thirsty he was. Hungry too, but he licked his lips, swallowing the saliva to moisten his throat. It would be the thirst that killed him. How many days would it take? How long would he lie here helpless, awaiting his doom?

Just as the fear nearly overwhelmed him in the black cell, he heard footfalls. The door opened, and Jack stepped in, holding a lit torch, which he placed in the bracket on the wall. The room came to life, firelight flickering over the stone.

Before Jack could speak, Rion croaked, “Water.”

What appeared to be genuine remorse softened Jack’s expression and he hurried out, returning with a full goblet. He held it to Rion’s dry lips, and Rion gulped it down, the water tasting like the finest wine. He flopped his head back on the mattress. “Thank you.” He cringed inwardly as the words escaped his lips before he could call them back.

Jack regarded him carefully. “You’re welcome.”

Rion observed Jack’s hunched shoulders and lined face. He seemed defeated already, any bravado vanished. His search had not been a success. “My arms hurt,” Rion said quietly.

Jack’s eyes trailed up to where Rion’s wrists were scraped raw from his attempts to work his way free. Rion glimpsed uncertainty—and sympathy?—on Jack’s face before he tightened his mouth.

“There have been worse pains in the world,” Jack said, his voice hollow.

“Yes. Yet it’s easy to say when you’re not the captive.”

A tiny smile lifted Jack’s lips. “I suppose that’s true.” His smile vanished. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done. Truly. But the bridge is crossed, and I am in desperate need.” His eyes were emploring, his voice almost cracking.

The strange sympathy flared once more, and Rion tried to tamp it down. The knock on his head must have left him off-kilter. Yet this Jack was so unlike any of the other Outsiders Rion had encountered. His curiosity got the better of him. “Why do you need the money?”

Tentatively, Jack neared the bed. “There is a debt I must repay.”

Despite himself, Rion asked, “For what?”
Why should I care? Why am I even talking to this plunderer?
A voice in his mind answered,
because you haven’t actually talked to a soul in far, far too long.

Jack’s face creased, and he glanced away. His voice was barely a whisper, and he wrapped his arms around himself. “For a friend I couldn’t save. I gave my word the debt would be paid.”

Jack looked so hunched and heartbroken that Rion struggled against the urge to comfort his captor.
Madness!
He scoffed instead. “What good is the word of a thief? Surely Outsiders are accustomed to broken vows.”

The expected anger didn’t materialize, and Jack only smiled ruefully. “Oh yes. We are accustomed indeed. I would simply flee, but I haven’t the means. Everywhere I go, I’ll be just as hated as I am in my village.”

An outcast among the Outsiders?
Just like the real giant had been so long ago
. Rion frowned. Yet Jack was no giant, only a normal man. It was all very puzzling. He opened his mouth to ask more questions, but stopped himself. This man had invaded his home to steal the legacy of Rion’s family—the most important thing in Rion’s life.

The only thing
.

He must do his duty. He thought of his father and steeled himself. “Hunt for the treasure all you’d like, vermin. Not a piece of it shall ever leave this castle.”

Jack’s face hardened. “You’re a selfish beast, just as the priests always said. Hoarding a vast fortune in the clouds while children starve and suffer. Why am I wasting my breath? All my life I’ve let cruel men like you get the better of me. Not this time.” He stormed out without another word, slamming and locking the door behind him.

He’d left the torch alight, and Rion watched the flickering flame. Every so often he heard a distant clang or thump, and the knowledge that an Outsider roamed through Rion’s home—his
family’s
home—sent acid rippling through his belly.

Yet as the minutes passed, Rion found himself shuddering with a pang of loneliness more powerful than any he’d felt since his mother had taken her last breath. In the six years hence, Rion had come in contact with only a handful of Outsiders from below, and all had scurried back down the stalk or tumbled to their deaths almost immediately upon encountering him in his disguise.

He’d barely had a chance to look at them, and yet now after seeing Jack, this man seemed seared into Rion’s eyes. Even when he squeezed them shut, he was plagued by visions of gleaming red hair. He knew he must find a way to turn the tables on his captor. That he was the only person Rion had spoken with in years, and that he’d given him water and warmth—and even a bed, which couldn’t have been easy to drag into the cell—mattered not.

Yet he found himself watching the door, hoping to see the Outsider barge through it again.

Jack lost all sense of time as he combed through the castle, hoisting another torch aloft to peer into the black corners. While at first he’d flitted from room to room in agitation, now he’d begun at one end and searched methodically, scratching marks in the rock walls with the dagger to remember which corridors he’d completed.

His righteous fury faded with each failed search, room after room. How would he ever find it? As he shut the lid on another trunk containing only musty sheets, Jack had a thought that brought a sardonic smile to his face. Why was he hustling through the castle? He had the fabled giant restrained, and where was the rush? He had all the time in the world.

When a week had gone by, the butcher would stomp over to Jack’s cottage and find it empty. And what would he do? Perhaps he’d go to Maura, now ensconced in the baron’s palatial estate. It gave Jack grim satisfaction to think of her or Damara, or even Adair paying the debt of Inga’s murder.

He sat on the trunk wearily. How wonderful it would be to throw off the dusty covers on one of the pillow beds and sleep. And why shouldn’t he?

Because I have a man captive downstairs
.

The damn greedy giant. Just a man after all.
Rion
. How had he come to be here all alone? Jack couldn’t decide if it was worse to be an outsider among people, or banished to a desolate castle in the clouds.

A castle holding a fortune in riches. That greedy man’s no victim
.

With a sigh, Jack heaved himself to his feet. His stomach growled, and he realized he hadn’t eaten in…he wasn’t sure how long. As he closed the chamber door behind him, he marked it with a small scratch of the dagger and returned to the kitchen. It was near the cell, and Jack paused to listen, but there were no cries of damnation or for help.

He quickly scarfed down some dried meat and bread, groaning as he swallowed. It stood to reason that Rion was hungry too, and Jack prepared a plate and a pitcher of water. He may not have liked the man, but it was too cruel to starve him. Rion must be a prisoner until Jack found the treasure and took just enough to pay his debt and travel to a distant land. There was no need to make him suffer in the meantime.

He fished the key from his pocket and cautiously turned it in the lock at the cell door, peeking through the barred window. Rion remained exactly where Jack had left him, his hands curled into fists and his jaw clenched as he stared at the ceiling.

“I’ve brought some more water, and some food.”

“Wonderful.” Rion’s tone dripped with sarcasm.

Jack neared the bed warily and rested the plate on the floor as he refilled the goblet and tipped it to Rion’s lips. Rion gulped greedily. Jack kept one hand on the dagger and lifted a strip of meat to Rion’s mouth with the other, leaning over him. He half expected Rion to argue, but he snagged the meat and chewed it quickly.

Bit by bit, Jack fed him the chunks of bread and dried meat, keeping his gaze on his own hand and taking care not to get too close to Rion’s teeth. When only crumbs remained, Jack gave him more water. Then he stood back, not sure what to do next. His gaze lifted to Rion’s, and they stared at each other in the torchlight.

“No luck yet, Outsider?”

Jack felt stupid and small. “No.”

“I’m telling you, you can keep me tied here for the rest of time, searching high and low until you’re old and your flame hair has gone gray. You will never find the treasure.” He shrugged as if was no bother to him to stay prisoner indefinitely.

“If you would only tell me, I could take what I need and leave you to your treasure. Your…solitude.” At that, he could have sworn Rion flinched. Jack pressed on. “I would tell no one. Your secret would be safe.”

Rion snorted. “Oh yes, I believe you. You wouldn’t tell a soul.”

“I have no one to tell. My own mother despises me.”

Brow furrowing, Rion gazed at him. “How can that be?”

Jack shrugged, ignoring the shame that flushed his cheeks. Even this greedy man likely had a mother who loved him. “I’m a curse. I drove my father away long ago. I have but one memory of him.” Why was he telling Rion this? He needed to get back to searching.

“You didn’t know your father?”

“No. Not really.” It felt strangely comforting to talk about it. Jack ran his finger over the flat of the dagger blade. “I always wondered where he was, and if he had a new family. Another son to replace me.”

“But…” Rion looked at him with something that might have been compassion in his eyes, which were a brown that seemed to shift hues, sometimes amber, yet other times seeming almost dark as coal. “A father would never abandon his child. It is the children who grow and leave their parents behind.”

Jack shrugged again, a hitch of his shoulder as he stared at his boots. “My parents didn’t see it that way.”

“It must be because you’re Outsiders. Little more than animals.”

Jack’s head snapped up. Why he felt the need to defend the people who’d never accepted him, he wasn’t sure. “That’s not true. You know nothing of us.”

Rion turned his gaze to the ceiling with an impatient huff. “I know all I need to, Outsider. Go on, continue ransacking my home to steal what doesn’t belong to you and never shall.”

“I will!” Jack knew he was being childish, but at least he didn’t stamp his foot as he stalked out, being sure to lock the door securely.

The sooner he found the treasure, the sooner he could leave it all behind—the people of the valley and the vexing man in the clouds.

Chapter Five

Rion needed to move. He’d given up on loosening his bonds for the time being, and instead focused on stretching his stiff muscles any way he could. He had no idea how long it had been since he’d woken bound to the bed, but the need to move positions was building unbearably.

It was a relief when he heard footsteps before too long. But the key didn’t turn in the lock this time, and Rion squinted at the barred window, spotting a flash of dark orange.

“I just want to make sure you’re well,” Jack said. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Wait!” Jack had vanished, but reappeared. Rion’s mind whirled. “I’m hungry again.” Luring this Outsider back into the dungeon was the only way Rion was getting out. He hadn’t figured out how yet, but he would.

It hadn’t been long since the meat and bread, so Rion was surprised when Jack returned with more water and a plate of cheese. Coming close to the mattress once more, he picked up a piece and hesitated. Cautiously, he perched on the side of the bed and held the cheese to Rion’s mouth. As he had been before, Rion was mightily tempted to bite down on Jack’s fingers and gnaw one off if he could, but it would get him nowhere. He needed his strength, so he ate obediently, neither of them meeting the other’s eyes.

It was unfortunate that all of Rion’s struggles during the time of Jack’s absences had yielded no give in his restraints, for Jack seemed lost in thought and was distracted enough that Rion could have flung him onto the bed and reversed their positions with ease, if only he’d been able to get loose.

Despite himself, a thrill sang through Rion at the thought of Jack tied to the bed and at his mercy. As Jack offered another piece of food, Rion’s tongue flicked over the calloused pads of his fingers, seemingly of its own accord. Jack’s breath stuttered, but he didn’t pull away as Rion swallowed the cheese. When he lifted up another chunk, Rion swirled his tongue again as Jack’s fingertips brushed his lips.

What am I doing? Stop!
But he didn’t, and their eyes locked. The pulse in Jack’s throat fluttered, his breathing growing faster. Rion’s heart hammered as they continued on, Jack holding up the chunks of food and not pulling back as Rion teased with his lips and tongue. Remarkably, Jack was not repulsed or enraged—and his eyes were actually darkening with clear desire.