Earthly Desires Read online

  Together, you and he are earth and air and water, and your passion is fire—a balance that offsets my curse. But I cannot allow it. Are you listening, child? This is where it gets interesting.

  There behind you is a lake, or shall I say there was a lake? For within the hour it will be empty, disappeared through a tiny hole— just about the size of your big toe—flowing into an underground channel out and away to the ocean, hundreds of miles from this land. As it goes, so will every river, pond, lake, well and stream in the Kingdom Goldenthal, now and forever more. No rain will fill them, no snows will melt and make them replete again.

  The people will thirst. They will suffer and die. It shan’t take long—don’t worry. It’s an ugly death, but a fast one all the same. It takes longer for my bird here to peck one to death, and longer yet to starve. I could be less merciful, you see.

  Why, you want to know? Because Leo’s son, my sister’s brat, will not have both love and water. My curse will not be undermined by your freakish existence. It is a correction I make to a wrong done—you should not exist, and your lover should not go unpunished for the sins of his father. I was merciful when you were a babe, allowing you to live, bound to the earth that is a part of you and your fairy fathers.

  There will be no more mercy from Ereshkigal. My misery will belong to all.

  How is it possible to dry up every last drop of water, you ask? A curse, of course. And just as you say, for every curse, there is a cure, if only one can find it. But I won’t make you hunt. I’ll tell you now how you may save your prince’s happiness and the people’s wretched lives.

  Are you listening carefully? That small hole I punched in the earth under the lake is enchanted and can only be filled by the big toe of a man. This man must voluntarily give his life to plug the hole, and it will not stay sealed should his toe ever be removed. Clever, isn’t it? For Ereshkigal has always been clever. One life sacrificed shall save so many.

  And think, Dmitri, you will be free. Just as the fae who sired you are no longer bound to this earth now that they are but ashes on the wind, you’ll be free. Did I mention the man who gallantly plugs this hole must be half-fairy, half-human and in love with a prince who lacks gravity? Do you know of any such person?

  I think you might.

  Chapter Seven

  Geoffry tied his naked charge securely to the bench next to the wooden table in the small cabin where they’d found him and began to clean Efrosin. The lad was covered in the remnants of intercourse, and any thought Geoffry might have had of Efrosin being unwillingly seduced was countered by his delighted recounting of far too many details of the events.

  “It truly is the best feeling, is it not, Geoffry? I feel I’ve sorely missed out before now, and it’s quite unfair to be deprived of so many years of pleasure.”

  “You are not so very old, sire,” Geoffry said, his face flaming bright red as he wiped at the dried evidence of Efrosin’s enjoyment. “There are many years yet to experience this joy.” He cleared his throat. “Sire, it is imperative that you dress. We must soon be on our way. There is a dire situation that can only be—”

  Efrosin didn’t appear to be listening. “His name is Dmitri, did I tell you? Oh you must meet him, Geoffry. He is so very funny.”

  “You think everyone is funny.” “But he truly is. He buried his parents! In graves he dug himself!”

  Geoffry blinked, untied Efrosin from the bench and watched him bob directly up to the low ceiling. “Truly, we must go. As I told you earlier, I’m lucky to be alive. Your father nearly hanged me the first day, and my children—”

  Efrosin clapped as his eyes lit up. Kicking off the ceiling, he grabbed hold of Geoffry’s lapels, dangling there in front of him, his feet drifting heavenward. “Oh yes, bravo. Tell me, Geoffry, how did you do it? How did you survive such peril? It must have been so thrilling.”

  “I promised your father, should he spare my life, that I would bring you to him before sunrise tomorrow. He holds my dear ones in my stead, so I must get you back to the castle, sire.”

  Efrosin prattled on as if Geoffry hadn’t spoken. “I’m glad, by the way, that you live. I had writ you off for dead. Even Dmitri will be surprised because I told him you had surely been put to death for losing me. You must meet him. His eyes are like chocolate, and his lips are sweeter than Papa’s best wine, and he smells of the earth and tastes like dirt. Did you know that dirt tastes ever so delightful? Well, it does when it’s Dmitri.”

  Geoffry cleared his throat, blushing as he said, “Surely there is someone who will taste just as fine at home.”

  “I think not. Of every man I know, Dmitri is the only one I want. Well, except perhaps Sir Carlisle, but he does not dabble in men. Which is a shame, because his thighs and arms are so very strong, and—”

  “Sire,” Geoffry stopped him before he could go on. Sir Carlisle and the other knights of Efrosin’s escort waited just outside the door, all of them embarrassed enough by the state in which they’d found his highness—tied to a bed with a rosy, hard prick, wet at the tip from longing, and clearly thoroughly debauched.

  Geoffry put aside the uncomfortable memory and went back to attempting to engage Efrosin’s cooperation. “Please put on your clothing.”

  Efrosin ignored him. “No, no, even though Sir Carlisle has many fine qualities, there is no one but Dmitri for me.” He sighed, allowing Geoffry to help him with a shirt. “Can you not simply send a message? Surely the knights can ride on ahead, tell my father that I live, and I can stay with Dmitri. I told you, I’m not ready to leave him yet.”

  “Your father will not believe us, Prince Efrosin. He’s out of his mind with suspicion and grief. He’ll think I am lying to buy my children time. And you will find someone more…suitable. At court. Where your father awaits you with a heavy heart, mourning you for dead.”

  “Oh poor Papa,” Efrosin said airily, and Geoffry sighed. Some things never changed. He gathered more water on the rough cloth he’d found and scrubbed at the clumps of spendings in Efrosin’s golden chest hair. Then again some things did.

  “Wait—what was that you said about your children?” Efrosin asked.

  Geoffry blinked in surprise. “We must return by dawn, or the king will see my offspring dead for my crime of losing you.”

  Efrosin frowned. “But that is quite unfair, is it not?”

  “It is, sire. So we must be going. We will return with hours to spare, but still, let us make haste.”

  “Indeed. We must just find my Dmitri and we may be off.”

  “The gentleman will not be going with us?” Geoffry asked.

  “Of course not.”

  Geoffry was pleased that Efrosin now saw the folly of that association. “That is well.”

  “Dmitri is cursed to remain here on his land,” Efrosin said. “Which is why I must say goodbye and let him know that I’ll return to him anon.”

  Geoffry helped his prince get his stained pants on and quietly signaled for the knights. He hated to go against Efrosin’s wishes, but he had no choice.

  “Wait! What are you doing?” Efrosin asked, pushing against Sir Carlisle’s shoulders as he was effortlessly plucked from the air and restrained.

  “We don’t have time,” Geoffry said. “I’m sorry, but you must leave without saying goodbye.”

  Efrosin squirmed and kicked. “You said we have hours to spare.”

  Geoffry was appalled by the young man’s lack of manners when he actually attempted to bite Sir Carlisle in his attempt to get free. Once they had wrapped him tightly, and Sir Carlisle exited the hovel, Efrosin stilled and grew quiet, likely due to his fear of the endless sky.

  Geoffry felt unsettled as they climbed upon their horses with Sir Carlisle holding Efrosin tight to his chest while he mounted his great stallion. Geoffry could not take his eyes from Efrosin’s pale face as they rode away, walking the horses in the close quarters of the thick, cloying forest. “Are you quite all right, sire? You look,” and here Geoffry frowned, “sad.
”

  “I find I am not at all right, actually,” Efrosin answered, staring back the way they came. “Something is lodged inside my chest. I find it rather hard to breathe. I believe this horrible feeling would stop if I went back. I must be with Dmitri.”

  “You must continue home.”

  “But this feeling. This horrible, awful feeling, Geoffry.” Efrosin’s expression was stricken. “Is it gravity? It feels quite heavy and hard.”

  “No, sire, I believe this feeling is what we call ‘love’. But knowing you as I do, I believe it will pass.”

  “No. Love is what I felt when I was happy in Dmitri’s arms last night. This is something horrible and I don’t think I can bear it much longer.”

  Sir Carlisle shifted Efrosin against his chest, a bewildered expression on his face as Efrosin’s eyes took on an odd glow, and he began to chant in a whisper, “Dmitri, Dmitri, Dmitri, Dmitri,” over and over with a backing note of determination in his voice that made Geoffry shiver.

  Sir Carlisle grunted and hefted Efrosin a bit. “He grows heavy,” he said. “What sort of magic is this? I have carried him since he was but a child, and he has never weighed an ounce.”

  Efrosin began to shout Dmitri’s name, and as he did Sir Carlisle struggled with his sudden weight. Geoffry cried out as Efrosin’s fingers worked quickly to untie his restraints, and when Sir Carlisle tried to grip him tighter, Efrosin threw a wild and direct punch, landing it squarely on Sir Carlisle’s nose. Blood spurted, shouts erupted, and before Geoffry’s stunned eyes, Efrosin jumped from the stallion’s back and lighted upon the earth.

  “Dmitri! Dmitri!” Efrosin’s body rose lightly in the pause between the words, his feet barely touching the ground, but he did not float away. As the brave knights sat frozen and shocked upon their horses, Efrosin raced into the forest, stumbling over branches but never quite falling down, screaming his lover’s name.

  Geoffry’s heart raced madly. His Efrosin, his prince, was cured! Joy rivaled with frustration at Efrosin’s selfishness, and despair for the impending loss of Geoffry’s family should Efrosin not return home by sunrise. He called out, “We must retrieve him!”

  Their horses raced down the path into the deep of the woods, following the sound of Efrosin’s voice on the wind.

  * * * * *

  Efrosin’s throat felt torn. His voice was fading fast. The force with which he had to yell Dmitri’s name in order to stay on the ground was more than he could sustain for long. He didn’t know what magic allowed for this miracle, but he’d felt the changes in him from the moment he met Dmitri and the first time he’d uttered his name.

  “Dmitri! Dmitri!” If his voice gave way entirely, he would be lost. With that in mind, he headed toward the lake.

  Just let the knights try to drag him from the water. He could out-swim them all. He was not leaving until he had seen Dmitri, pledged his love and given his promise to return. If Dmitri should return from wherever he had wandered and find the cabin empty, he would fear Efrosin had been caught on a breeze and floated away.

  The thought of Dmitri frightened for his sake made Efrosin’s skin feel tight and prickly, as if it did not quite fit right. He supposed the sensation was what Geoffry had told him was “empathy” or perhaps “guilt”, but either way he didn’t like it, and he would risk anything to stop Dmitri from feeling such pain.

  Besides, he told himself, the castle was but a few leagues’ ride away, and they had until sunrise to stay his father’s hand. There was time yet.

  As the lake came into view Efrosin’s breath caught in his throat, and he lifted off the ground in his stunned silence. The water was low—quite low—little more than neckdeep in places where he and Dmitri had been in well over their heads only the night before. He floated another foot higher as he spied a person in the middle of the lake, standing stock still, the water coming up almost to the man’s chin.

  “Dmitri,” he breathed. His toe grazed land. “Dmitri!”

  Dmitri did not turn, his shoulders set squarely to the southern mountains. Efrosin chanted Dmitri’s name, his toes barely touching the ground, and he dove into the shallow water without bothering to take off his clothes. He felt the sweet relief of the lake’s embrace only dimly in his panic, for there was something wrong. He didn’t know just what, but a strong physical pull in his gut, groin and chest told him to swim to Dmitri. Now.

  As Efrosin approached, Dmitri’s lips were set in a grim line, his eyes closed. When Efrosin called his name, he did not respond. Efrosin’s stomach twisted painfully, like the stomach cramps he had after eating bad oysters as a child, and he felt he might be sick though he didn’t know quite why. Efrosin finally reached Dmitri and gripped his arms tightly, shaking him, expecting him to move easily through the water and slide wetly into his arms.

  Instead, Dmitri held fast. Efrosin shook him, “Dmitri! Are you caught?”

  “Efrosin…” Dmitri’s eyes opened and his voice was soft. “Am I dead already? Are you my angel even still?”

  “Dead? I should think not. I’ve found you now. Have no fear. I’ll save you, Dmitri. Just hold on. We must act quickly. The water is rising fast—where did it disappear to?”

  Dmitri stared at him tenderly. “How did you get here? Did you fly?”

  “Are you ill? Answer me, Dmitri. Tell me where to pull!”

  Dmitri’s eyes sharpened then. He shook his head. “Leave me. It’s too late.”

  Fear gripped Efrosin far beyond his prior imagining. He dove beneath the surface and, following the line of Dmitri’s body down, he finally located the problem—the big toe of Dmitri’s left foot was caught in a tight hole. Efrosin pulled hard at Dmitri’s leg, but the toe was stuck fast, and Dmitri did naught to help.

  Lungs burning, Efrosin burst through to the surface and saw even in that short amount of time the lake had risen to cover Dmitri’s chin. From the corner of his eye he saw the knights and Geoffry dismount from their horses near the shore. They called for him, but he remained focused.

  “You must help me, Dmitri. Pull as I tug. We must get you free. The water is rising.”

  “Efrosin,” Dmitri said, reaching out to him, pulling him close. “Don’t fight it. Just know that I did this for you and for the people of our land.”

  “Whatever are you talking about?” Efrosin’s throat was so tight he could barely speak.

  “I don’t have time to explain it.” Even now the water was slipping into his mouth, and Dmitri had to tip his head back to keep it from filling his throat completely. “There’s only one thing you have to know—my toe must never leave the hole at the bottom of the lake or the water will drain from the kingdom. No matter what happens, never dislodge it. Do I have your promise?”

  Efrosin shook his head violently. “I will never leave you here.”

  “It’s my dying wish.” He coughed, choking on the relentless water. “You can’t take my toe from its place in the bottom of the lake. Promise me now before I die.”

  Efrosin blinked rapidly and then gave a short, fast nod. He turned and yelled to the knights swimming toward them. “I need a knife! Bring me a knife!”

  “It’s too late,” Dmitri said, gasping for breath. “I’ll be free now. I know you can’t mourn me, but do think of me from time to time.” He spluttered and coughed desperately.

  The water closed over his mouth, and then over his nose and eyes. Efrosin cried out in agony, tugging at Dmitri’s shoulders as he stared down at his lover’s brown eyes gazing up at him from beneath the clear water.

  Then the bubbles of Dmitri’s final breath released, and Efrosin dove beneath the water, pressing his lips to Dmitri’s and breathing into his mouth. But Dmitri did not take the breath, and there beneath the water his body spasmed and jerked, his eyes going wide before he stilled completely.

  Efrosin broke the surface, shouting again for a knife, and when the knights reached him he grabbed the blade from Sir Carlisle’s hand and swam down to Dmitri’s foot, slicing in rough, jagged swipes at hi
s toe. The bone was hard to sever, but Efrosin’s panic gave him strength. Blood clouded the water, rising and twisting around him as he worked, but he didn’t give up until Dmitri’s body was released.

  All but for his toe, which Efrosin left as promised in the greedy hole at the bottom of the lake.

  * * * * *

  At the water’s edge, Efrosin knelt in the shallows and watched Geoffry work on Dmitri. A sound clawed its way from Efrosin’s throat, piercing the air around them. He couldn’t stop touching Dmitri, his fingers clinging to the wet fabric of his breeches.

  Geoffry pounded on Dmitri’s chest, slapped his face, lifted him up and thumped on his back. Still Dmitri’s eyes that had been rich with life like the most fertile loam remained unseeing. Time seemed to stop. The knights stood watch, unmoving. The leaves on the trees were still; the very clouds in the sky were frozen. The only motion was Geoffry as he worked, and the treacherous lake as it deepened around Efrosin’s thighs.

  “I shall choke,” Efrosin cried. “I am crushed beneath this weight. You must save him, Geoffry. You must!”

  Geoffry worked tirelessly, but for naught. Finally, Efrosin felt his heart sink to the lowest depths of hell as Geoffry looked up at him with tired, sad eyes. “Sire, he is gone.”

  Efrosin could not breathe, could not feel his heart beat where it had plummeted so deep into despair. He threw himself up out of the water, onto Dmitri’s body, gripping his neck tightly. “No!”

  To the shock of everyone, Efrosin burst into sobs. What’s more, he did not float at all. Like a cloud erupting with heavy rain, he found his gravity weeping against his dead lover’s neck. He flowed with hot, wild tears that rushed from him in a mad torrent that could not be staved. They ran down his face, one after another, onto Dmitri’s unmoving chest.