Part 24
Thorn sat on his bed, the bed he and Kenneth had shared the
past few nights, and stared at the broken automaton. The pieces were brittle,
the metal not warped even in the bits that weren’t bent out of shape. It
wouldn’t have lasted long, which was typical of something bought at the
journeyman’s fair.
But it would have been nice to have nonetheless. Kenneth
would be nice to have nonetheless.
Thorn’s throat tightened, heat building behind his eyes.
Fires, was this it? Their future together, over, because of a broken toy?
But it wasn’t a broken toy. It was everything that had been
bubbling in Thorn’s mind since Kenneth had begun to stay here and his friends
and peers had looked at Thorn as though he was a stranger. Hearing about the
war, and the knowledge of what the magi had done…Was he betraying all of that? Would
his own peers, his one time friends, his own people, hate him? Would they hate
the man Thorn loved, for what magi had done?
But Kenneth wasn’t like that. He had shown that several
times over.
But it didn’t matter if no one realized it.
Thorn cursed, dropping the pieces of the automaton. It
should matter. Talentless shouldn’t be like mages, just as shortsighted and
prejudiced. There had to be a reason for this, something else, anything.
Thorn was going nowhere chasing his own thoughts in circles.
He knew exactly who had done this. He ripped open the door, the wood
splintering again as it hit the wall with a bang. He had told Kenneth not to,
but Thorn was no mage. He was going to talk to George.
***
Anger and nervousness clawed at his chest and neck as Thorn
strode down the hall. The sound of conversation flowed through the closed door
of the common room of the residence hall, where every person he had asked had said
George typically frequented.
When Thorn swung the door open, three other people turned to
look at him. George sat one of the wooden chairs, two of his friends who Thorn
only recognized from a few engineering classes seated across from him. George
raised an eyebrow, and silence pervaded the room for a moment, both men waiting
for the other to speak.
Finally Thorn gave in. “George, I need to talk to you,” he
said through clenched teeth.
“We can talk here,” George replied, his tone as flat as any
Professor who was disappointed with a student. It galled, and Thorn clenched
his metal hand. Fine.
“I want to know why you have a problem with me,” Thorn said,
his voice rising in volume. “I want to know where you get off on entering my
room and destroying my property.” The other two people in the room exchanged
glances, shifting on the couch as though they suddenly very much did not want
to be there.
George’s eyes narrowed. “That’s quite the accusation. Have
any proof?”
“What proof do I need?” Thorn’s fist clenched so hard he
felt something bend, and he relaxed it with effort. “Don’t take me for a fool.”
“I don’t know, Thorn,” George said, leaning further back on
the couch as though this entire conversation was beneath him. “You do let mages
screw you.” The other two in the room grimaced at that. “Perhaps your mage
broke it by accident.”
“Kenneth was with me the entire time!” Thorn shouted, his
face heating. “You know that’s a lie!”
“Then prove it,” George said with a wave of his hand.
“There’s no way you can prove I did anything.”
Thorn took a breath against the roaring fury in his ears.
George was being purposefully difficult, and Thorn losing control of his anger
would only make things worse. As much as he loved Kenneth, his lover’s quick
temper was not something Thorn wanted to mimic.
But two could play the game George was playing.
“All I can guess for the reason you’d destroy something and
drive Kenneth away is that you’re scared,” Thorn said, emphasizing the last
word. “Is Kenneth truly that frightening to you?” George’s eyes narrowed, and
Thorn twisted the knife. “A successful man, ready to graduate, and an expert
duelist, but scared of mages like everyone else.” George’s two comrades turned
to look at him. Thorn dearly wished they would leave, but perhaps an audience
would help drive his point home.
“Are you threatening me?” George said, and Thorn blinked in
surprise.
“Fires, no,” Thorn said. “Are you afraid of me, too?”
“I’m not afraid!” George stood, shoulders and neck taut, and
he gestured at the floor as he spoke, venting his emotion with his hands. “I
have no reason to be afraid of you or your mage.”
“Then why are you making it your problem?” Thorn hissed,
taking a step closer. He wouldn’t let George intimidate him. “Why talk to me at
the Journeyman fair? Why break my belongings? I’m not a fool, George, and
neither is Kenneth. If you don’t like us, leave us alone, but I want to know
why you did it.”
That was the heart of it all, Thorn realized. He had so many
theories about people—they were angry, they were afraid, they would think Thorn
was betraying them by being with Kenneth, they would hate Thorn and Kenneth
both. He wanted to know which was right.
But it wasn’t George who answered.
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