Ronan took another swig from the bottle. ‘You know what’s going to happen now, don’t you, Leo?’
Leo nodded, his chest tightening painfully. He’d seen it before. Too many times to count.
‘Don’t be shy, Leo.’ He flung an arm out, pointing at the boy. ‘Tell Edwin here what will happen to him. What will happen to his family. Because he chose to defy me.’
‘But he won’t understand what I’m saying. We speak a different language—’
‘Oh, but he will understand you.’ Ronan went and stood behind the boy and, placing his hands on the boy’s head, muttered a spell. ‘Now, tell him, Leo.’
Leo gazed steadfastly at Ronan; he couldn’t bear to look at the boy. ‘He will enslave you, Edwin. He will enslave your mind, and put one of his demon creatures into your body to control it. He will make you another of his servant army.’
The boy let out a strangled cry. ‘Niese! Ne acwellað min cynn!’
Ronan laughed. ‘Oh, don’t worry, Edwin, I won’t kill your family. Why would I, when living slaves are so much more useful?’ He lifted his hand, ready to write more fire runes in the air.
Leo couldn’t bear it any more. He stepped forward, putting one arm on to Ronan’s outstretched hand, pushing it down. ‘Please, you don’t have to do this, Ronan. Please stop. For me.’
Ronan seized Leo’s hand and sighed. When he looked up, Leo could see the desire in his eyes. All these months, and he still wanted Leo. He still wanted him to stand willingly by his side. ‘I would. I would stop all of this, Leo. I’d stop enslaving people in this way, using the power of the shadow realm to control them. If only you would accept me as I am, I’d …’ he faltered, ‘I’d find another way to convince these people to obey me. A less destructive way of ensuring their loyalty. But I can’t do it on my own. I can’t …’ He moved closer, slipping both arms round Leo’s waist. Leo let him, knowing that his own safety and that of the boy rested on his cooperation. ‘I know I could do better, be a more merciful ruler, more … compassionate, if only you were by my side. If you were to pledge yourself to me, once and for all, I promise you, Leo: I would stop all this unnecessary suffering.’
Leo began to tremble. His mind was screaming at him to push Ronan away, to run. But he needed to buy time. So he leant in, bringing his arms round Ronan’s back, burying his head in Ronan’s shoulder. ‘I’m tired, Ronan. I’m tired of all this fighting. I’m tired of being left up in this room by myself, day after day. I want to start living again.’
Ronan breathed in sharply and turned to the guards. ‘Take the boy back to his family. Let them go.’ Leo heard the guards hustle the boy out of the room.
‘So … you’re finally agreeing, Leo? To commit to me?’ Ronan asked quietly. ‘To commit to what I’m trying to achieve here? To making a better world for us, and for people like me?’
Leo took a deep breath in. ‘Yes. I am. I’m ready.’ He let go of Ronan and stepped back. ‘What would you have me do?’
Ronan’s face was glowing with excitement. ‘The binding ceremony. Remember, Leo? I told you about it before. One of the spells I learnt since coming here.’ He began pacing up and down, rubbing his hands. ‘Once it’s done, you’ll belong to me completely. Forever.’
Belong? That was the only way Ronan seemed to be able to think about love. As if it was just a more intense form of ownership.
Leo smiled wanly. ‘Till death do us part?’
‘Not even death.’ Ronan laughed again. ‘I’m not planning on dying, and I’m going to find a way to keep you alive too. To keep you safe. Nothing will ever separate us, Leo. Nothing, and nobody.’
After he and Ronan had spent some more time talking, discussing their ‘future’, Leo persuaded Ronan that he needed rest. Ronan seemed eager not to do anything to jeopardise their reconciliation, or to undermine Leo’s resolve. Eventually – after professing his love over and over – he left Leo to sleep.
But one thing Ronan insisted on doing before he went was choosing a time for the binding ceremony. A few days were needed to prepare all that was required for the spell. Ronan was also keen to enhance its power by holding it on a magically significant date. He’d settled on the winter solstice.
It was little more than a week away: Leo’s stomach churned at the thought of it. He hated the idea of binding himself to someone so evil, so insane. But what choice did he have? He’d hoped that by continually refusing to be in any kind of relationship with Ronan, the other man would be persuaded to let him go, to send him home. But Ronan hadn’t given up. Instead, he’d isolated Leo and locked him away in this tower in an attempt to forcibly change his mind. And Ronan’s patience – Leo could tell – had worn thin.
This was his only hope now: that after the ceremony, Ronan would let his guard down. That there would be an opportunity, at some moment when Ronan was relaxed and undefended – was asleep, perhaps – for Leo to kill him.
Leo knew that he probably wouldn’t survive, either. Most likely, even if he managed to kill Ronan, he’d die with him. He suspected the binding ceremony would somehow tie his life to Ronan’s. He’d seen that kind of magic before: Gwydion had tied Jack’s life to his, as a form of protection. But even if by some miracle Leo did survive, he’d still have no way to get home.
Maybe Ronan’s grip on this world would weaken with his death, and maybe the worst of the nightmarish creatures that served him would disappear. But Ronan had ordinary human supporters too. If Leo ran, they would almost certainly hunt him down, wouldn’t they?
May as well let them find me.
If he was lucky, they would kill him quickly. Better that than spend the rest of his life trapped in this place.
Sighing, he swung his legs out of bed and crossed over to the small wooden table that stood in the centre of his room. He picked up the crude charcoal drawing he’d sketched earlier that day. It was a picture of his home, and of the old willow tree, with its slender, drooping branches, that stood next to the garage. He’d even included his battered Peugeot parked in the driveway. It was one of many pictures he’d tried to make over the past few months. He wanted to set things down on paper as much as he could, to have some tangible record of what his life had been. He didn’t have his phone any more, or any photos. All he had left was what was inside his head. And he’d been determined to hold on to that for as long as possible. But now … what was the point? What did it matter whether he forgot his home, his friends and his family? If he had no future, it seemed futile, to try to hold on to the past.
Taking the drawing, Leo held it over a candle and watched as the flame began to eat into it, making the paper blacken and curl.
Her eyes shot open. The witch fire she’d conjured last night was still flaming away against the roof of the cave, and the embers of the fire were flickering, but there was something else too: a faint gleam coming from the cave entrance. Daylight. Finn’s arm was draped across her waist, and he was lying right behind her, breathing softly. She turned her head, peering over her shoulder.
‘Finn?’
He muttered something in his sleep.
‘Finn, wake up.’ Merry nudged