Aubade

This bonus chapter for The Dark Mirror was originally written for Waterstones. Chronologically, it slots between Chapters 25 and 26, and I strongly advise you not to read it until you’ve reached this point in the story. You’ve been warned . . .

aubade [noun]: a poem or piece of music appropriate to the dawn or early morning

Art by Jeanne @jdclrcq_draw

❀

On our fifth day in Orvieto, I woke to golden sunlight needling between the shutters. My hair ruffled in soft gusts from the ceiling fan.

Arcturus faced me in my bed, holding me close in his sleep. Even in his arms, I could feel the draught in the room. Leaving the window open had seemed like a good idea last night, when the city had been unseasonably warm, but the chill of autumn had stolen back.

I carefully turned over and slid a hand towards my phone. Once I had checked for new messages, I nestled closer to Arcturus.

My legs ached from the day before. We had started with a slow walk along the Anello della Rupe, the hiking trail that encircled Orvieto. I had expected Arcturus to bow out sooner rather than later, but we had ended up staying on the trail for a good while. soaking up the sights. After taking him back to the house, I had treated myself to an outdoor lunch, then joined him in bed for a while. It still felt like an impossible luxury to be able to rest whenever I wanted.

At dusk, I had opened the forbidden door in the cellar, revealing a tunnel. For the next few hours, we had wandered through the ancient caves beneath Orvieto, finding what Arcturus thought was a medieval oil press, along with a dovecote and a deep Etruscan well, all of which had clearly fascinated him.

I loved seeing his interest in our history. It might just make it worth my neck if Ducos realised I had picked the lock.

Long past midnight, we had returned to the house and stayed up a little too late for our own good, considering how much sleep we both needed. I wanted his touch more than ever. Perhaps we really were like fire and oil, and the spark that glowed between us would eventually consume me – but I needed it to keep me warm, to drive away the shadows.

Arcturus was going to need to take it easier today. I was glad he was trying to build up his strength, but I couldn’t let him push himself too hard.

As I traced his face, my stomach tightened, as if I was standing on the edge of a cliff. I waited for the sensation to fade, but it was hard to shake. Maybe I needed something to eat.

When I slipped away from Arcturus, he stirred a little, but settled again. I switched the fan off and shut the window and door on my way out.

I ate some fruit and pastries on the balcony. Once I was ready, I vaulted in and out of my dreamscape, fighting to keep my body upright. As soon as I hit the pain barrier, I stopped, determined to conserve my strength. If I burned myself out, I wouldn’t stand a chance against Cade.

The strange apprehension was still rising. Perhaps it was just nerves about confronting Cade, but I had faced worse than a dreamwalker, someone whose gift I understood. This had to be another kind of fear.

To distract myself, I made a mug of coffee. I was halfway through it when Arcturus came downstairs, sporting his usual endearing case of bedhead.

‘It’s only noon.’ I put the mug to one side. ‘Don’t you want a bit more sleep?’

‘This may be the only time we have together before I return to Scion.’ He came to sit beside me on the couch. ‘I would prefer not to squander it by sleeping when you are awake.’

‘We did a lot yesterday. You really need to rest.’

‘I can rest with you.’

‘True.’

I shifted up to him and draped an arm across his waist. He cupped the back of my head.

‘I sense your disquiet.’ His deep voice rumbled through me. ‘Would it help to share your thoughts?’

Of course he had picked up on it in moments.

‘I had so much fun yesterday,’ I said, very softly. ‘I don’t know why I feel afraid.’ I slid my hand to his chest. ‘Maybe I’m scared of fucking this up.’

‘You could never do that. There is no rulebook, Paige. We can chart our course as we see fit.’ He touched his lips to the crown of my head. ‘I am ill at ease as well. I have seldom felt more fear than I do now.’

‘Why?’ I looked up at his face. ‘You’ve had other relationships.’

‘Not with a human,’ he said. ‘Not with you.’ He brushed a stray curl from my eyes. ‘You know how much I wanted this. When one harbours a desire as deep as mine has grown for you, its fulfilment can seem too good to believe.’

‘Like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.’

‘Yes. After everything you and I have endured, it is of little wonder. In any case, we know this interlude is fleeting.’

‘Well, I’d rather not ruin the rest of it by feeling like a nervous wreck. I want to enjoy it while it lasts,’ I said. ‘So what do we do?’

‘We keep the faith that we are meant to see this war to its conclusion, and that we are meant to do it together.’

‘Easier said than done.’ I tucked my head under his chin. ‘I shouldn’t have broken up with you in London. We could have been together like this in Paris.’

‘I would not have changed anything about Paris, except for how it ended. Not for all the world,’ he said. ‘It gave us the foundation Oxford never did.’

He had a point. I had fallen in love with him in Paris, but it was also where our friendship had blossomed, and we had both needed that.

Arcturus kept stroking my hair. It was the sort of casual intimacy I had craved from him for months, even before Paris. I didn’t often like to be touched after the waterboard, but Arcturus was an exception. He knew how to embrace me without sending me back to my dark room.

‘I’m wild about you,’ I said to him softly. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

‘Hm. Is there nothing you would change about me?’

‘At this moment, I’d prefer you to be asleep. You shouldn’t be working against your body clock while you’re healing.’ I stood. ‘Come on. I’ll keep you company.’

‘You should enjoy the city, Paige. It is a pleasant day,’ he said. ‘You could visit the ruin or the Duomo.’

‘I need to rest, too. Anyway, you know you’d be devastated if I saw the ruin without you.’

‘Touché. Perhaps we could go this evening.’

‘I’d like that,’ I said, ‘but first, I’d like you to take me back to bed, if you’d be so kind.’ He obliged by rising and scooping me up, widening my smile. ‘Sure you can still carry me?’

‘I am certain.’

Arcturus put me down in his room and lit the fire. Once we were both in bed, he drew me against his chest, and I ran my questing hands over his sarx. It felt like silk until I reached his back.

‘Do the scars still hurt?’ I caressed the ones that extended to his shoulders. ‘Even after Capri?’

‘Yes. It seems nothing can break the chain between a fallen angel and the one it marks.’

‘We’ll find a way.’

He nodded. I grazed my fingers though his hair until he fell asleep with his cheek on my breastbone, listening to my heart.

❀

It was still light when Arcturus woke me. I had rarely felt so comfortable or well rested in my life.

‘Mm.’ I rubbed my eyes. ‘What time is it?’

‘Almost quarter to six,’ he replied. ‘You ought to rouse yourself and eat.’

‘I’ll get something from a restaurant,’ I murmured. ‘I’m too lazy to cook tonight.’ He trailed soft kisses along my collarbone. ‘And I’ll be too hot and bothered to go anywhere if you keep that up.’

‘Do not tempt me.’ He pressed a last kiss to my jaw. ‘I will stay here.’

‘Wait. You need aura.’ I took hold of his chin. ‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed.’

After a moment, he nodded. As our auras entwined, I curled a hand around his nape, watching as my red overcame the dull gold in his eyes.

‘See?’ I said. ‘No pain.’ I patted his chest before I sat up. ‘I won’t be long.’

‘Very well.’

I pulled on my discarded shirt and trousers, then a thin jersey, before I left for the nearest trattoria. When I returned with food and a bottle of local red wine, Arcturus was still in bed.

‘What did you get?’

‘A margherita pizza and a salad,’ I said. ‘I’ve no earthly idea what a pizza is.’ I nodded to the window. ‘There’s a lovely sunset out there. Will we watch it?’

‘On the balcony?’

‘Actually, I found a good spot on the city wall. I know we’re meant to be keeping a low profile, but I doubt anyone here is checking Incrida,’ I said. ‘Maybe bring your sunglasses.’

‘Very well.’ He started to rise. ‘I will dress.’

‘Oh.’ I bobbed an eyebrow at him. ‘Must you?’

His eyes glowed.

‘I fear propriety demands it,’ he said, ‘but you are welcome to disrobe me at your convenience tonight.’

I grinned and left him to it, glad I had tested the water. It was nice to be able to flirt with him.

The place I had scouted out was a stunning viewpoint near the Duomo, facing the old monastery on a nearby hillside. I set up the picnic on a throw blanket. Once Arcturus had followed the cord to me, I passed him a glass of wine, and we lounged on the wall, watching the sun descend over the Paglia Valley. After a while, when no one disturbed us, he took off his sunglasses.

The pizza turned out to be melted white cheese and crushed tomato on a crispy base, with a handful of basil leaves scattered on top. I took a bite while Arcturus observed with interest.

‘How is it?’

I considered, then went for a second bite, chewing with intense concentration.

‘I think,’ I concluded, ‘it might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.’

‘I am happy to hear it.’

His ruby eyes seemed to mirror the sunset. He sipped his wine while I worked on the pizza.

Rephs were nocturnal by nature. I had been forced to adapt to their preferences in Oxford, but in Paris, Arcturus had often stayed awake with me during the day. I had still come to treasure the dusks and the dawns – the liminal times, when the hands of our body clocks overlapped.

‘We appear to have company,’ Arcturus said.

I followed his line of sight. A tabby cat had slunk out from behind a tree. It sprang on to the wall and made straight for my last slice of pizza.

‘Ah, fuck—’ I shut the box. ‘Sorry. I don’t think you can eat that.’

The cat pawed at the lid, which I held down, before turning to Arcturus with a plaintive mew. When he spoke to it in Gloss, it perked up at once, its pupils dilating. The next thing I knew, it was perched on his lap

‘Wow.’ I scratched behind its ears. ‘For some reason I thought cats would be scared of Rephs.’

‘Some are,’ Arcturus said mildly, ‘but animals can be persuaded to trust us, as you saw in Oxford. They usually respond well to Gloss.’ He raised his gaze to mine. ‘Do they have grey dreamscapes, like amaurotics?’

It was strange to be asked for knowledge by a Reph.

‘No. They’re colourful,’ I said. ‘Does that mean animals are voyant?’

‘They do not have auras,’ he said, ‘but perhaps they are attuned to the æther in some way.’ The cat purred. ‘You have possessed a bird. Did you sense the æther then?’

‘I don’t remember. I was too busy trying to fly,’ I said. The cat hopped to my lap, and I gave her a stroke. ‘We’d better head to the ruin before it gets too dark.’

‘I would like that.’

We cleared the remains of the picnic before walking towards the north of the city. It was cold enough that my breath turned white, but my fleece-lined jacket and gloves kept me warm.

The ruin stood in a quiet and secluded place near the Pozzo di San Patrizio. It was little more than a foundation and a set of crumbling steps, lined with grass and shaded by trees, but I circled it with interest.

‘The Tempio del Belvedere,’ Arcturus said, reading from a sign written in English. ‘It is believed to have been dedicated to Tinia, god of the sky, supreme divinity of the Etruscan pantheon.’

‘Long way to fall.’ I eyed it. ‘I wonder how gods lose their worshippers. We know how religion disappeared from Scion, but how did this temple end up in ruin when Tinia used to be so important?’

‘A pertinent question. Nashira would likely know the answer.’ He inspected a block of stone, which looked as if it might have been the base of a pillar. ‘She was our foremost scholar of humankind before the civil war.’

‘A scholar.’ I huffed. ‘Do you think she wants temples built in your image, once she reveals herself?’

‘Most likely,’ he said. ‘For two centuries, we accepted secret tribute through the Bone Seasons, but once we are public knowledge, I can only imagine that she will expect a more extensive and elaborate form of worship, to ensure humans accept our dominion.’ He cast his gaze across the ruin. ‘In many of your stories, the gods are not kind to mortals. That will not change.’

‘I don’t know.’ I returned to his side. ‘I hear the god of memory is all right.’

Arcturus took me by the waist and hitched me up to sit on the foundation, so we were at eye level with one another. I gazed at his face as he circled his thumbs over my cheekbones, wondering when I had fallen this hard for him, when he had become this essential.

‘I am no god,’ he said softly, ‘but I would build you a temple, Paige Mahoney.’

‘I should think so.’ I linked my arms around his neck and kissed him. ‘Goddess of coffee and reckless decisions.’

❀

We lingered at the ruin until the stars came out. When we got back to Casa della Fermata, we played a few hands of cards. The fourth time I won, he let me undress him.

Later that night, we revived another Paris tradition and curled up on the couch to watch a film. All the dialogue was Italian, which neither of us understood, but it proved a good test of his knowledge of human expressions and body language. Some of his guesses had me shaking with laughter. By the time the credits rolled, we were too drowsy to tackle the stairs, so we fell asleep by the fire.

And just like that, another day in Orvieto was over.

❀

I woke in my own bed to find that it was just past dawn. For the first time since our arrival, it was raining.

Arcturus was awake. As I came around, I gradually realised he was speaking in Gloss, his voice almost too soft to hear. I turned over to look at him, and he fell silent, gazing at my face.

‘Hey.’ I touched his cheek. ‘What were you saying?’

‘Only an aubade.’ He placed a tender kiss on my forehead. ‘Perhaps today will be our last in Orvieto.’

‘Perhaps.’ I checked my phone. ‘Or perhaps not. Still nothing from Ducos.’ Rolling back towards him, I curled an arm around his waist. ‘We can sleep for a bit longer.’

Arcturus said nothing. Instead, he pressed me to his chest, and that disquiet, the fear I had felt the day before, came whispering through the cord again. Perhaps he was asking himself if we would ever have a life like this, or if we were doomed to chasing this memory for the rest of our days.

For now, I would think only of Orvieto.