“Exceedingly well, in fact.”
Hamish bent down to collect another worthy-looking length of bare branch, hoping to stave off the heat growing in his cheeks. Goddess, how did the man manage to make him blush so effortlessly?
They walked for some time in silence, picking up whatever suitable wood they could carry. Darshan stopped every-so-often to glance his way, his lips parting as if to speak, but never quite giving breath to the words.
“You ken,” Hamish drawled, attempting to keep his voice neutral as he filled the quiet. “It’s been over a week since we started this… whatever you want to call it.”
Darshan jerked upright from his hunt beneath a scraggy bush. “Really?” he squeaked before clearing his throat with a hearty cough. “Has it been so short a time? I feel as though I have known you forever.”
Fresh warmth infused Hamish, the source starting from his chest. “Aye.” He hadn’t realised that feeling of lifelong kinship was mutual. “I guess it also means I’m now your longest lasting sexual relationship.”
His lover chuckled breathlessly. “I must admit, the thought did not occur to me, but it would appear to be so.”
Hamish tucked his bundle of wood beneath one arm and draped the other companionably over Darshan’s shoulders. “And how do you think this one will end, given both of our histories?” No matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t see any other path other than the one that led to them separating once Darshan’s purpose in Tirglas was over.
“Amicably, I hope.” Darshan smiled up at him, but a faint bitterness lingered in his gaze and it echoed through his voice. “I would hate to think I could hurt you.”
“What makes you think I wouldnae do the hurting?”
“Truly? You are not that kind of man.”
Probably nae. But he doubted Darshan was either. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you. About journeying to Minamist?”
“Oh?” His lover bumped Hamish with a hip. “Made up your mind, then? Simply cannot wait to be free of all this?” He indicated the whole forest with one broad sweep of his hand.
“I do want to leave with you when the time comes.” If he left, the land would be the only thing he missed beyond his siblings and their children.
Darshan’s answering smile fattened his cheeks and increased the wrinkles around his eyes.
“But… if I was to play the part of ambassador, I’d need me mum’s acceptance of me position to make it official.”
The corners of his lover’s mouth dropped faster than a stunned bird. He stared out into the forest for a long time. Enough for Hamish to collect two more branches. “I have been doing some thinking of my own,” he confessed.
“I thought you look like you’d something else on your mind.” Hamish laid his haul of branches on the ground and dusted off his hands. “Tell me. Is it the cloister?”
Darshan gave an affirmative hum, but the lines in his face only deepened. “In a matter of speaking. I wish to enquire about something personal, although I am unsure how to go about that without offending you or your family.”
Hamish shrugged. “Just ask.”
“Your cloistered sister? She is—? That is to say… you share a full parentage?”
“Aye.” Why would Darshan even need to ask such a question? Let alone be puzzled by it? “All my siblings share the same bloodline. You cannae be considering that as strange. You’ve a sister you share full blood with.”
“Trust me, that is not the part of my query which stumps me. You see, there is one definite in creating a spellster, they must share the bloodline of another spellster or their antithesis.”
Hamish scoffed. “There’s nae such a thing as an opposite of spellster powers.”
“There most certainly is. They go by many names, but my people call them Nulled Ones. Their bodies… ignore direct magic. Throw a fireball at them and they feel only a touch of heat, healing fails to mend the smallest of scratches, and magical barriers are nonexistent to them. I believe your brother is one.”
“Gordon?”
“Unless you have another brother I have yet to meet, then yes.”
Hamish stepped back. “You think me brother is some sort of… of…” What had Darshan called them? “Anti-spellster?”
“A Nulled One, yes.”
“You’re saying me brother could die with a spellster inches from him?” That couldn’t be possible. He had witnessed Gordon’s return from the cloister with his arm merely in a sling after a horse had thrown him. Neither of them could claim their years were in double digits at the time, but the way his brother had howled, he had certainly broken his arm. That wasn’t something a mere week of bed rest could fix. “All because nae magic will work on him?”
Darshan inclined his head. “Regrettably so.”
“Bollocks. Magic can fix anything.”
His lover laughed softly. “I dearly wish that were correct.” He perched himself on the remains of what looked to be a stone wall. “I told you my mother died giving birth to my sister and I, did I not?”
Hamish nodded. It hadn’t been him specifically, but he’d been within hearing range.
“My grandfather saw it as a needless death. She was a purist, you see, a spellster who believes magic should be used sparingly. They never use their god-given gifts except in the most extreme of cases. Where most of the court use their talents to heal themselves, she refused to even learn.”
“I thought magic could do everything.”
One side of Darshan’s mouth twitched into a melancholic smile. “It is true that magic can push the limits of… normal capabilities. But it is bound by far more rules than those without the power believe.”
Hamish arched a brow at the man. “Such as?”
“Take healing. An ordinary person sees us wave a hand and the wounded are mended, the sick are cured. That sort of skill takes years of study, just
