Snow (21 page)

"Michael," she said, tears in her voice, and held him as she would a child, as if he were her child, leaning him into her and running a hand down his back, small soothing circles. She wished David was alive so she could kill him. She would do it slowly, with great care.

"He drank," Michael continued. "Drank and then took my glass away, looked at me. He was smiling. He looked--he looked happy and I thought--I thought it was because of me. He told me he was sorry and I didn't understand but then he smiled more and the look on his face… He knew he was dying and he was happy. Happier than I'd ever seen him and he…he made sure I couldn't come with him. He didn't--he didn't want me to."

She had brought this upon him. She had found David, made sure to bring him here. She had started all of this. She had wanted Michael to be happy, safe, and now--"I’m sorry," she said and it wasn't enough, would never be enough but she would never ever fail him again. Never. "I'm so sorry."

"All he ever wanted was for me to let him go and now…" His voice cracked. "Now I have to," he said and then looked at her, mouth trembling. He said "Judith?" a question pleading for her to help him, to make everything better, to fix things for him as she always had before.

"Yes," she said, "now you have to." And the look in his eyes broke her heart.

They picked out the room together. "Something big," Michael said. "With windows, lots of windows." She thought of a room at the top of a tower, one that was far enough away that if Michael ever went there she'd be told in time and could reach him, talk to him, call him back to now and make him remember who he was.

She suggested it to him and he frowned, then looked at her face and nodded. "We should do it soon," he said. "Before I--before I can't."

They did it that day. There was no burial procession, no priest mumbling final prayers. She knew Michael couldn't bear it and wasn't sure she could either. It had to be over. It was the only way.

She had servants carry David up the stairs. He lay inside a great crystal burial bed Michael had made for him, lay resting in it looking as if he were asleep. When it had been placed in the room she sent everyone away. Michael was standing outside the room, leaning against the door.

"Promise me you won't have a canopy made. Nothing like that. Nothing like a lid. Nothing like a--a coffin."

"I promise," she said, and started to shut the door.

"Wait," he said, and walked inside. She held her breath and prayed as she never had before.

"I'm not--" Michael said. "I told you this once. Do you remember? I'm not good at farewells. And you--you're too beautiful to place in the earth. I can't bear to think of it. I can't--. So you'll stay here. You'll be safe. I made sure there are lots of windows. I know you like the sun. Don't you?"

There was no answer.

"David," Michael whispered, and leaned over him, pressed his mouth to David's. There was no response. David lay still and silent on the bed. His eyes never opened.

Outside, it began snow.

***

Alec left John behind finally, his heart telling him he should go so strongly he could no longer ignore its cry. He whispered to the watcher one night and was free in the morning, a purse full of coins to take him wherever he wanted to go. He'd headed toward the desert, traveling quickly, planning, hoping, but in a land where the rivers ran swift and pale purple blue, he'd heard two noblemen talking as they waited for a ferry.

"Sad story," one of them said. "To lose a love like that."

"Indeed. King Michael has another consort now, but they say he still mourns."

"Still?"

"His love was very beautiful," the nobleman said. "I once saw a portrait the King had painted of him. Lovely like you wouldn't believe. They say that when he died the King went almost mad with grief." His voice lowered, "I even heard that he couldn't bear to part with the body, had it--"

Alec got on the ferry and stood shaking at its bow, stared down at the water as they crossed the river. On the other side he'd walked through the town until he found what he was looking for, passed over a handful of coins and sat in a corner smoking until his mind was far away, in a place where wishes could come true and his memories were more real than anything else. He smoked and forgot to eat, to sleep. He smoked even though his eyes burned, bled. He smoked until his money was gone, until he was tossed out squinting into the sunlight.

After that he went back. He had to, knew that he had to see what he'd lost. What he'd been too afraid to believe in.

It was snowing. Snow everywhere, drifts of it blowing, glowing in the sun so brightly it dazzled the eye. He walked to the palace with a heavy heart.

The palace was even larger than he remembered, glittering in the snow. He saw Michael once, smiling with lost eyes as he rode through the streets.

Michael didn't see him.

It was easy to get into the palace, to slip in with the merchants and traveling entertainers and visiting dignitaries and petitioners waiting for an audience with someone, anyone from court. It wasn't easy to find David.

He walked through hallways, head down. His feet began to ache, and day darkened into evening.

As the stars bloomed, dim lights against the snow-filled sky, he walked across a room emptying of people and saw the portrait of David. He stopped, stood staring at it with his heart thumping fast and hard inside his chest.

When he turned around Judith was standing at the edge of the room. She told him where to go.

She handed him a candle nestled in an ornate holder.

"Set him free," she said, her eyes weary, and then she turned away.

Inside a once glorious room now thick with dust and dark from spider webs, David lay quiet and still. Alec stood over him, reached out one hand to touch his face. It was cold under his fingers and he bent, pressed his forehead to David's and murmured his name.

Silence. Alec knelt, held the candle close to the bed. The flame flickered, and he thought of Judith's request. He thought of David's last words to him, of David telling him he loved him, that he would never forget him.

He blew the candle out and then leaned over, touched his mouth to David's.

Warmth bloomed inside him, through him, and David's lips moved against his own. Alec sat back and watched his eyes open. He smiled and watched as David smiled back, his eyes filled with joy.

***

It became green everywhere, green and fragrant and glorious, every kingdom blessed with sunlight and happiness. A golden age, every sage proclaimed, and in every land voices rose in joyful song.

Alec saw it all with David beside him, and never once did it snow.