22 - He's Still Your Wing-Brother

Kyrus was tremendously glad the zardukar had set up couches in the High Bedroom, instead of the throne room, so the last thing he saw wasn’t his dad’s empty body.  It was too much like a fetch for his taste. He’d had enough of thinking his da was dead already.  We’re coming to get you back, da.  Hang on and we’ll throw you a line. That’s all they needed to do.  Two things.  Find them.  Then throw them a line out of the gate.

*You aren’t there to fight off security programs, you aren’t there to haul them out mentally.  They’re safe and hiding, we’re certain.  It was what we planned.  If we truly wanted Prime to know we are here we’d just smash in with all the power we’ve got and grab them out.*  That was Shashi, still flat on her back, her baby asleep on her chest.  She would be helping them without physically being there.

*We’re nowhere near ready for him to know about us.*

*Homa’s asleep now.  I’m ready to help you.* That was Mariush, His old Radiance’s last concubine.

*Good.* Werfas settled into his chair, right on the edge of the balcony overlooking the canyon.  His presence was solid and grounded as the rock the city was built on. Kyrus had to look away, feeling guilty that he couldn’t return the feelings his wing-brother had for him.  He’d slept with men, as a Basin rat, but it didn’t mean that was what he preferred. 

Hara, next to him, poked him with a finger.  “He’s still your friend.  Quit acting as if he’s covered in boils!” She hissed at him, barely audible under the hum of the bees.

He jumped as if her finger were a pin.  “Sorry.”  He smiled at her then at Wer.  “I’m wool gathering.”  Wer wasn’t acting any different.  He wasn’t being pushy at all.  I trust him.  He’s my wing-brother and if he’s attracted to me, he’s grown up enough to live with it.

He lay back on his couch and looked at the ceiling, still feeling pleasantly relaxed, and he didn’t jump when Wer reached to take his hand on one side, and Hara on the other. 

Above, the honeycomb patterns of the balcony glittered.  They'd originally been lines etched in plain stone, and the bees had built up a comb of wax and rose-coloured honey, with flashes of blue and green inside, where a gemstone wheel turned quietly to do its work.

The scent of the balcony flowers was soothing, as they’d been chosen by great-grand da.  He resolutely closed his eyes and, clinging hard to his two best friends in the world, slid quietly, softly, silently, into the code.