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Reposing Force Excerpt #2

It takes a bit of effort to get in touch with Xorna. She can visit the realm of Earth whenever she wishes, but to visit Xulthea, he has to drink a cup of peppermint tea, draw blood from his body, smear blood over his hands, and fall asleep with his hands over his chest. After he falls into deep sleep, the portal opens and envelops his bed in the process, jolting him right awake—into the dungeon cells. It’s always a whole thing when he visits Xorna. She says that peppermint tea is Earth’s greatest invention. 

Graham doesn’t regret this. He will never regret this. He has a connection to Soren, adores Soren more than the moon could ever adore the sun or the stars surrounding it, adores Soren more than a starving beats appreciates its kill, but it’s not worth the risk.

“Please call Xorna in,” he tells a guard. “Tell her Graham Case wants to make a deal.”

The guard blinks at him with all six eyes. Each eye is arranged in parallel vertical lines across his violet-flushed face, and the purple of his skin shimmers in the lack of light. If Graham could read Xulthean expressions as well as human ones, he’d guess that the guard is suspicious. But he shakes his head, the sound of a vicious rattle filling the air, and leaves to fetch their queen.

Graham sits up from his bed, his fingers staining the sheets as he peels the blankets back. Oh; Merry is out with friends, the Reposing Force recruitment expo is tomorrow and must be prepared for, he doesn’t have much time here, and now he’ll have to wash the sheets when he gets back home. That’s just great.

Graham will sleep peacefully tonight. He won’t regret this. When he washes the blood away, he will wash Jessica Hollows away with his tissues, her essence pouring down into the plumbing. Soren won’t react well—he knows Soren, knows that there is a darkness within him, has known the truth of Soren since Soren revealed his powers, but Soren cannot touch him as long as he gives up what really matters.

Yet his breath halts when he hears the clicking of Xorna’s heels on the dark dungeon floors. Soren won’t react well, and Soren is powerful, and Soren is beautiful, and Soren isn’t capable of anything too terrible. He wears tulip-patterned shirts with plaid pants and he cooks Graham dinner and he smiles at Graham in a way Merry has never once smiled at him. He wouldn’t hurt anyone besides maybe Graham, and that isn’t a problem. He can trust Soren’s harmlessness, he tells himself.

“You haven’t called in months,” Xorna exclaims, making a grand cinematic with the pink lace of her flowing dress dragging on the floor behind her. “Mixed signals, Dr. Case. That’s no way to treat an old friend.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. “I’ve been busy.”

“Busy with your boytoy?”

Graham’s eyes dart away. “I don’t know—“

“Come on, I keep eyes on Earth. I know what you’ve been doing with—what’s his name? Long dark hair, weird clothes?”

“Drop it, Xorna.”

Her expression flattens, fists tightening at her sides. “Do not speak to me like that again, Case.” She shakes her head. “What’s this I heard about you wanting to make a deal?”

“Yes, and I’m prepared to make a generous offer.”

Xorna smiles, her grin far too wide to be natural, the insectoid claws of her jaw parting in joy. “Finally. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.” She turns to the guard. “Release him. Follow me.”

He follows Xorna like a dog following food, right behind her, eager and willing and hungry. They wind through several tunnels, all touched by only the dimmest light, until they reach a room where the walls are lined with bookshelves and the roof is transparent, allowing the purple sunless sky to shine through and illuminate them both.

She pulls a book out of a nearby shelf and opens it. With a wave of her hand, all of the contents disappear, fading into nothingness until Xorna opens her mouth, coughs up a pile of words like a sick cat, and stuffs them into the wood of the bookshelf. The words slide right in, magic, and the shelves glow a bright white.

“Can’t let perfectly good stories go to waste, can we?” she laughs. “I’ll use this to write up the terms and conditions. It’ll take me a while to generate each page, so sit tight and tell me about what you need. What do you want out of our deal?”

“I want you to imprison someone,” he says.

It takes Xorna a minute to process his request as she holds her hand over the blank pages, each one swiftly filling with words and fine print without a single stroke of a pen. Then she nods, swallows the implication. “Fine, but that’s cold.”

He sighs. “I know.”

“Tell me more.”

“Soren—his name is Soren, by the way—Soren’s wife deduced our relationship. They have a weird situation going on, an open marriage or whatever they’re doing these days, so he thought she would accept it, but she said it was inappropriate, that Soren was making a mistake.”

“So?”

“I’m married, you remember. If this got out, it would ruin everything I have built.”

Xorna is silent for a moment. “Did you consider buying her silence, or, I don’t know, any other possible method of silencing her before deciding to imprison her in a nightmare dimension?”

“Yes, but thinking back on what Soren has said about her, I doubt it would do anything besides make the situation worse.” He bites at his nails, tastes the dried blood. “You don’t have to put her in Xac, but—“

“I’d never send anyone to Xac, you idiot.”

“Right. I just need her off Earth. I’m sure you can find something for her to do here, and… I’m willing to give you 75% of my soul to bind her to Xulthea for eternity. That should be enough, right?”

Xorna sighs, now, her shoulders dipping. “Why are you doing this to someone you care about? I can tell this Soren is important to you. I’ve never seen you so passionate about someone or… anything.”

“I love him,” Graham admits, but his voice is monotonous, dead, devoid of any scrap of passion. He’s never said it out loud before, and he will never say it again. “But he’s not worth it.”