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The last words Bode had spoken to Cal still echoed in his mind, and he hadn’t even been awake to hear them, curled up at Bode’s side, so blissfully unaware of his imminent departure.
“I’m sorry.” Bode’s voice was slightly distorted through the timeglass, spoken across the distance of a few hours, before Cal had woken and found the space next to him cold and empty. He watched as Bode lowered a gloved hand to Cal’s face as if to brush away a lock of hair before changing his mind and taking off with no further word or gesture.
He’d known why Cere had left, why Merrin had left, why Greez had left. Yet that cursed gift the Outsider had bestowed on him, a window into the past, hadn’t helped him understand why. Perhaps it had been the Outsider’s way of mocking him. Or perhaps he’d simply wanted to show him that he wasn’t above losing himself to the past either, as he’d accused Cere of doing when she rejected the Outsider’s mark.
It had taken a reunion under dire circumstances for him to finally understand why they’d made the choices they had, answers he could have found not by looking back but to the present, to the future his friends had been looking towards.
This time, however, he understood why Bode had left. He understood all too well. And he knew he had to stop him.
Maybe this had been closer to what the Outsider had intended when he’d given Cal the timeglass, he mused as he followed Bode’s steps through narrow alleys he’d traversed in the safe cover of night, while Cal now had to seek out ever shortening shadows as the sun climbed higher. Bode wouldn’t have even needed the darkness to conceal himself. He could have changed his face to any he wanted. And indeed, he stole the appearance of a guard he found passed out drunk behind a dumpster, snoring against the metal. Bode even did him the courtesy of tossing him inside, keeping him safe from the swarms of rats scuttling through the streets. Lowered the risk of his disguise vanishing upon the guard’s death, too.
The street Cal watched Bode step onto had been abandoned then, owed to the curfew, and was lively now, merchants at every corner selling their wares. Cal took to the roofs instead, easily keeping track of Bode. The disguises had never fooled him.
It wasn't long, however, until Bode stepped back into a narrower alley again, vaulting over fences and passing through abandoned hallways. Following him became harder now, as Cal was forced to become one with the shadows to keep himself hidden, every second he lost sight of Bode a risk of losing him, every reset of the timeglass pushing him back by valuable minutes. There was an art to tipping it back just far enough, but Cal had never been patient enough to perfect it. And once set, the sands of time trickled on at their own pace.
By the time they arrived at a foreclosed building Cal had never seen, Bode had discarded his disguise. He shifted to the ledge on the second floor in the blink of an eye and carefully lifted the loosely attached boards to open the window underneath carefully. Cal let the shadows pull him onto the same ledge, readying his sword just as Bode had done.
Through the timeglass, Cal watched Bode walk up to a door secured with a Jindosh lock. Cal opened it using the same combination Bode did, gripping the knob tight before pushing the door open. Cold air that smelled like dust greeted Cal, mixed with the woodsy scent of soap. Tyvian. Bode's favorite. He kept the timeglass aimed at the floor as more and more of Bode’s clothes dropped to it, and nearly stumbled over his shirt. Cal set the glass aside and frowned at the trail of fabric. Wondering it meant he would be back or that he would never return.
In the present, the door to the bathroom was wide open, but through the glass, it was closed. Cal stayed by the door as he listened to the flow of water, the sound of rough fabric moving over skin. Then Bode emerged, hair dripping wet. He barely bothered to shake out the dusty bedding before disappearing under the blanket and closing his eyes. Cal swallowed, clutching the timeglass tighter.
Reassured that Bode wouldn’t be going anywhere soon, he finally peeled off his own clothes and stepped into the washing room to remove the grime of the streets, not bothering to fill the tub or heat the water. By the time he rubbed himself dry with a fresh linen cloth, he was shivering, but he grit his teeth and pushed the discomfort aside.
After dressing in his undergarments, he peered through the timeglass once more. Bode’s position on the bed remained largely unchanged, but he wasn’t asleep yet, Cal could tell. Bode never slept much on his own. But he’d fallen asleep easily next to Cal.
Cal turned onto his side, keeping the timeglass in front of his face, not daring to reach out a hand. It was easier to pretend this was real if he didn’t feel the cold sheet beneath his fingers.
When Cal woke, the image he saw through the timeglass was empty. His head spun as he sat up, cursing himself for actually drifting off. Then he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly as he let his energy flow into the device. Maybe it hadn’t been too long. Maybe he could find the right—
There was a creak of a door, but it did not come from beyond the glass. Cal turned hastily, and froze at the sight of the overseer before him. His blade was in his hand before his mind put the details together, his body at the man’s side in a single bound, the edge already at the man’s exposed throat. But Cal’s hand stilled before he could have pulled it across, as he smelled the same warm scent, mixed with stale sweat and iron. He let his blade snap back to his belt and reached for the mask.
Bode’s face was ashen under der splatters of blood that covered his skin. He didn’t bother going for an easy smile as Cal might have expected, either correctly assuming that Cal was not in the mood for this kind of playfulness or worse off than he looked.
Cal tensed when Bode stuck a gloved hand into his pocket and retrieved a bone charm, wet red clinging to the pale yellow. Cal recognized it right away, the charm that cast a shield of impenetrable silence over its wearer. It didn’t belong to Bode.
“You can return that to Merrin,” Bode said. Then he did crack a smile. “She always wanted some of my blood, right? Might make up for taking it.” Then his knees buckled, and the charm slid out of his hands.
Cal caught him as the bone clattered to the ground like a curse. Later, Cal would pick it up with apologetic diligence, relieved to feel the power still contained within. Now all that mattered was getting Bode’s unconscious body back to the bed. Cal peeled off the overseer’s garb. Under the jacket, across the ragged linen shirt, a stain of blood was spreading, still.
Shaking, Cal pulled out the charm Cere had given him long ago. He’d finally use it the way she’d intended, after all.
The mattress creaked slightly as Bode stirred back to wakefulness. Cal slid forward on the wooden chair when Bode opened his eyes, bracing himself against the bed. “You’re still here,” he croaked, voice rough.
“Of course,” Cal said, unable to hold back the indignation.
Bode chuckled and turned his gaze to the ceiling. “More surprising that I’m still here, too.”
“You nearly weren’t,” Cal said, the sharpness undercut but the breathy note in his voice.
Bode pressed his lips together at that, ran a hand along the clean bandages around his torso. Then his hand stilled with realization. “You used the draining charm?”
“It was the only way to close the wound.”
Bode sat up abruptly. His fingers closed around Cal’s shoulder, a reproach, but Cal was just glad to be able to lean into the steady grip for a moment. “It’s not a risk you should have taken,” Bode snapped.
“As if you’re one to talk.” Cal pushed Bode’s hand away and leaned back in the chair. “What was the plan, Bode? After everything, you just run away, infiltrate the Abbey on your own?”
Bode lay back down, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t even blink. “That wasn’t the plan.” He let out a mirthless chuckle of a breath. “I just needed to get close to the High Overseer.”
“Did you?”
A muscle in Bode’s jaw twitched. “Almost.” He rubbed a hand across his face, feeling for the dried blood Cal had already wiped away. “It was an impostor."
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Silence filled the room, as thick as the dusty air. Then, finally, Bode said. “I thought I would be back.”
“No, you didn’t,” Cal objected harshly. “You just thought it would be easier like that.”
“Yeah,” Bode agreed.
With a huff of frustration, Cal grabbed his arm. “What was the real reason?”
Bode was silent again, but this time, he reached out for Cal, taking his hand. When Cal didn’t pull back, he pulled Cal closer and pressed his lips to Cal’s wrist. “I didn’t want to drag you down with me.”
The muscles in Cal’s forearm tightened, though he didn’t pull away, instead twisting his hand so Bode could see the mark on the back of his hand. “I made that choice for myself a long time ago. You don’t get to make it for me.”
“I don’t,” Bode agreed. “I made it for me.” Then he gave a rueful smile. “And yet, here you are.”
“You’re lucky I tracked you down,” Cal growled. He pulled out of Bode’s hold himself to grab his wrist and push it to the mattress.
“I am,” Bode echoed, a tender desperation in his gaze that made Cal climb over him, reach for his other wrist too. The one that bore the Outsider’s mark. His fingers brushed across it, sending a jolt sparking through them both.
“What happens next time, Bode?” Cal asked quietly. “When you get another chance? You leave again?”
“I might,” Bode said. He raised his head up towards Cal’s face, their lips briefly brushing, before Cal pulled away, and Bode sank down again, resigned.
“You won’t,” Cal said. Then he crushed his mouth against Bode’s, harsh and needy, and Bode responded with a reassuring firmness, lips parting to draw Cal’s tongue inside, letting him taste the hunger he felt. Cal broke off the kiss, breathless. “Because I will get to him first.”
Bode laughed at that, low and almost eager, like it was a challenge Cal had imposed on him. It was, in a way. And he sealed its acceptance with a kiss, with an upwards push of his hips where Cal was straddling him, making his thighs tense with desire.
Cal released one of Bode’s wrists to fumble with their clothing, and Bode used the freedom to curl his fingers in Cal’s hair and pull him closer. Every inch ceded entangled them further, until there was no more distance between them.
Afterwards, Cal clung to Bode as Bode clung to him in turn. And as he felt the soft rise and fall of Bode’s chest, Cal dreaded the possibility of one day being only able to witness their connection as a distant memory, preserved behind glass.