A Touch of Death

Chapter 36

Tarran lay awake in his bed, listening to the sound of Aoife's gentle breathing.

His time was coming soon. He could feel it.

Aoife's healing was staving off the worst of the pain and keeping the curse at bay, but it wasn't enough to counteract it entirely. A cold sense of dread settled in his chest every time he looked at his blackening Mark.

It was spreading faster. As though in response to Aoife's attempts to counteract it, the curse spread back in place faster than before each time she healed him. He would never tell her, of course. Her magic gave him a little extra time and lessened the pain, and that was more than he could ever hope for.

She deserved to know before the end, though. She deserved to hear everything directly from him. He'd tell her to find Camilla when he was gone. They seemed to get along well, and his sister was a better teacher than he'd ever been.

He could leave the estate to her. That would be easy enough. She would always have a place to live that way, and never have to worry about finding a home again.

There was still the problem of the death curse, though.

Even now he could see it spreading across the farmlands in Quilland. Crops refused to grow or grew far too slowly when they did. Rains came less and less frequently. It was impossible to tell if the curse on the land would spiral beyond control or break with his death, which was why he'd tried to find a way to break it... but his time was up.

He would talk to Aoife over the next day or two. Just as soon as he figured out how.

"I might stay here and read for a while," he said softly. "Perhaps go on a walk later."

"I'll check on you later."

It was later, and Aoife arrived in Tarran's room to find him dozing off with a book in his lap, still propped against the pillows. She put down the tray of soup and bread she'd brought on the bedside table, carefully placing a hand on his shoulder to wake him.

Not for the first time, she thought that it was a shame the world had never seen his face. His silvery Mark and white eyelashes were beautiful to behold, and as his eyes fluttered open, she thought she would never find anyone else with irises that same shade of soft gray. Aoife reached for his hand as he sleepily turned towards her, looking from her face to the open book in his lap.

"You okay?" she asked, gently stroking the back of his hand with her thumb.

"Mmm. Just tired, but I've been tired since I was a child," he said with a weak smile, but it wasn't enough to convince Aoife. He'd been moving slower and slower since the start of the proceedings, and though her magic had helped a little, it wasn't enough to entirely reverse the damage.

"I wish I'd forced you to leave sooner," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair.

"I would say you couldn't have, but you're probably the most stubborn person I've ever," he said, reaching up to stroke her cheek with a small, pained smile. "Don't worry about me. My time was already running short when we met. And I didn't expect..." he trailed off, shaking his head.

He never expected to fall in love with her. He never expected to meet someone that made him want to live more than anyone or anything ever had before.

"Can you... promise me something?" Tarran asked.

"Don't die and I'll promise you anything in the world." She was smiling, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. A tear trickled down her cheek before she could stop it, and she didn't bother to scrub it away.

"I wish I could stay with you," he said softly. "I do. I need you to promise me that you won't give up once I'm gone, though. Find... Find Camilla. She'll he- help you..."

"Tarran, please! You can't leave me. You-" she cut off with a gasping, broken sob. "You have to know how much I love you."

"I love you, too, Aoife," he murmured. "I love you very, very much. I wouldn't leave you if I could stop this."

Tears in her eyes, Aoife crawled into the bed beside him, wrapping him up in a tight hug. Though she managed to hold back the sound of her cries, her tears wet the shoulder of Tarran's shirt and she knew he could feel her shaking as she tried and failed to steady her breathing. It was too much. It was far, far too much to take watching him die and knowing there was very little that she could do about it.

"Can I stay for a while?" she asked softly.

"Please." He hugged her close, hand rubbing circles across her back, and she thought it strange that the dying man was the one comforting her.