26. Colt

They walked through the day cautiously, no longer sure of their position on the map as they traveled deeper into downtrodden territory. No green shrub or leaf or blade of grass grew, and giant circles of dirt and black rocks marked the soggy path. Parts of fences and debris lay strewn about, and some paths that diverged from the main trail no longer looked passable as vines and rocks lay in the way. The further they walked, the more dead everything looked. To make matters worse, a thick fog rolled in and threw their direction off completely.

"You'd think there was a battle here," Brom said, limping at a good pace.

"As we discussed before," Gilda said, "Vanhelm is where the war between Aleana and Mordren happened."

"Are you too tired to detect sarcasm?"

Gilda sighed. "I suppose I am. I don't like haunted places, and this place is full of strange energy that feels off."

"How so?"

"It's dark," Owen said, and Gilda nodded in agreement. "It doesn't feel right. Like there are scattered energies of… things… everywhere."

"Things?" Colt asked. He looked around, hoping the shadow man Owen often saw wasn't lingering nearby, or any other entities.

"I'd say like people, but that's not it either."

"That doesn't sound good…" Brom muttered.

"The fog reminds me of Emberton," Owen said, fiddling with the shark tooth around his neck. "But it never looked this desolate, not even in winter."

Brom winced as he kept up with them. "Right, there's nothing growing at all. Dead trees, dead grass, creepy looking village."

Colt looked up, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of buildings in the distance.

"Somewhere we can stay?" Owen asked.

"I highly doubt it," Colt muttered.

The sky darkened the closer they neared the bleak-looking village. The gray trees scattered around them as the dirt beneath their feet turned to wet mud, and the mist wafted through the decrepit buildings. Looking like the houses before, they sat with broken roofs and hollowed insides.

Colt's heart picked up as he took in the old houses. The holes in the sides made him think of the giant, and he wondered if that had been the cause, but the black char clinging to the siding told him otherwise.

"I'm getting bad signals about this place and I'm not even Astran," Brom muttered.

Colt could feel it too, as if something dark lingered in this place. It made his heart pick up. He wanted to leave this place. It didn't feel right.

Gilda surveyed the ruins. "We're not staying here."

They passed a crumbling well and quickly made their way out of the dilapidated village.When they emerged from the trees, the fog had lifted enough for them to see they were up on a hill that overlooked more darkened land stretching before them. Unlike the dry, brittle ground they had journeyed through, what lay ahead was riddled with mud and deep puddles. In the distance, the ground rose and fell unevenly until it finally rose against tall stone structures.

"I'm not sure we should keep going this way," Gilda said. "I don't like the feel of this place at all."

Brom looked up. "Well, I'm unsure of our direction up here. I can't tell where the sun is setting. The clouds are too thick."

"Then we should rest for a while until we can get our bearings," Colt said. "It'll be dark soon."

"Yes, that sounds nice. Should we light a fire?" Brom set his bag near a tree.

"And attract every wild beast out here?" Gilda placed a hand on her hip. "You're an idiot."

"I try not to be." Brom sat with a grunt.

"You're doing a terrible job." She sat next to him with a sigh.

Colt and Owen joined them, and they passed out their rations for the night. As Owen took a few bites of an apricot and looked out over the land, Colt wondered at his quiet demeanor.

"Hey." Colt nudged him. "Alright?"

Owen shook his head. "I just need some sleep."

Gilda was unusually quiet too as she laid down on the ground. Brom sat near her and pulled his blanket over them both. They were all too tired to do anything else.

Colt led Owen a few feet away, where they sat together at the base of a dead tree and looked out over the wasteland. The sky was getting dark fast, throwing the land into deep shadow. Beside him, Owen trembled.

"What's the matter?" Colt asked. "You're shaking."

"I don't like being here."

"Then let's talk to ease our minds." Colt looked at him, thinking of something light-hearted. Owen had told Colt about his mother before. He was eager to know more. Now seemed as good a time as any to dig more into their pasts. "I'd like to know more about your mother. You said she was a healer, and she died when you were ten. What was her name?"

Owen's lips curved up. "Emilia. When she got sick, Amias told me it wasn't something I could catch. We spent the last few months taking care of her until she passed." He paused and closed his eyes.

"Was she Astran too?"

"No, only my father." He looked over and nudged Colt's arm. "And your mother? You told me she worked at the brothel, and you lived with her there for a while. Do you remember her?"

Colt hesitated as he thought of his mother. He hadn't seen her in twenty-one years, but still he could imagine her vividly in his mind. "Her name was Agatha. She had green eyes and auburn hair, a kind face. She laughed a lot, at least around me. When she wasn't working, she'd take me to the square for candies. Sometimes to the garden in the city. Then I turned six and she disappeared."

"And you never saw her again," Owen stated.

"No." Colt clenched his teeth. "Never saw her again. She could still be alive, but I'll never know."

"What about your father?"

Colt shrugged. "I'm a bastard. I don't think I'll ever find out who he is, if he's still around."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I don't intend to find either one of them. I don't want to know what became of her or why she left me, and I don't want to know who he is either. And I don't plan on ever going back to Luthien."

There was silence for a moment, then Owen asked, "What happened after you ran away from the orphanage?"

"Stayed in Luthien for a few years with Rowan, then started getting into a lot of bad things."

"Is that also where you got your scar here?" Owen touched Colt's left eyebrow, where a scar ran up from the top of his eyelid and through his eyebrow, up to his hairline.

"Yep," Colt replied. "Got beat in that alley good. But that life's over now. When I came to Milarc, things changed. I got older, wiser I think. Then I found you and landed myself in the biggest trouble I've ever been in."

They both laughed softly, and Colt took Owen's hand.

Owen leaned against him. "So, when you came to Milarc with Amias, you were nineteen, right?"

"Right. I stayed in a few towns, but eventually settled in Harrow Grove."

Owen narrowed his eyes. "Harrow Grove? That isn't far from Emberton."

"About a thirty mile walk. No, it wasn't far."

"You have to wonder why Amias didn't allow us to meet sooner, then."

Colt laughed and looked down, running his thumb along Owen"s knuckles.

"What?" Owen blinked. "What is it?"

"Amias actually talked about you a lot. I think I got a bit jealous sometimes, the way he went on about you. I remember one day, after hearing him talk about where he could buy you a house, I told him to bring you over to Harrow Grove instead."

"And?"

"He told me we'd get into too much trouble together if we met."

A grin spread on Owen's lips. "Well, I suppose he was right."

Their laughter quieted as the sound of the wind blew through the trees, rustling the dark, brittle branches. Owen shivered again, and when Colt looked at him, the breeze tousled the strands of hair around Owen's face, and Colt was awestruck.

"I miss Amias," Owen said.

"Me too," Colt said. "He was the only father I ever had in my life."

This connection between them made Colt's heart swell. After all the times Amias had mentioned Owen, always explaining that he needed to keep Owen hidden, it never occurred to Colt exactly why. If Colt had known Owen was Shadowborn from the start, he would have made better plans along with Amias, perhaps taken him north to the mountains in Milarc, where people disappeared and were never heard of again.

"Have you seen the shadow man again?" Colt asked.

"I saw him earlier today," Owen replied. "But he didn't speak. He only stared, then moved away from us and faded away. I'm not sure if he wanted us to follow him or not. Perhaps we should have. Or… maybe it was a mistake coming here."

"As long as we're safe, that's all that matters, alright? Why don't you get some sleep?" Colt moved his arm so he could pull Owen against him.

The heat between them made Colt's fear lessen, if only briefly. Before Owen went to lay his head against him, Colt took Owen's chin in his fingers.

In the waning light, he caught his lover's brown eyes, looking dark and beautiful as always, and then he kissed him gently. And then again, and again, until Owen laughed.

"Wishing we were in a bed?" Owen whispered, clinging to Colt's coat.

"Don't you know it," Colt said, kissing him one last time on the lips, savoring the warmth of Owen's mouth before he pulled away and lightly kissed his nose.

Owen smiled and closed his eyes, squeezing Colt's hand before he moved and laid his head in his lap.

Sighing contentedly, Colt moved the strands of brown hair away from Owen's face and tucked them behind his ear. He enjoyed looking at him from this angle, with his eyes closed and body tucked close. Colt pulled out their blankets and laid one over them, covering Owen's body. Then he rested his head back against the tree and looked out over the gray land before him.