Out of the Depths

Konstancji’s smile deepened, and he shook his head, raising a hand to run his fingers through wet, tangled hair. Borys offered him something, yes, but that wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough when weighed against one who now lay under the blackened sky, his resting-place pummeled by its fury.

“I’m sorry,” he replied at length. He trailed his hand down from Borys’s hair to the damp skin of his cheek and felt the shiver elicited by his touch. He also caught the flash of deep revulsion and desperate need in Borys’ eyes. “You know I can’t.”

“He’s been dead for a year, Konstancji.”

“Which makes things even more impossible between us.”

Borys stared at him, puzzled and dazed, his breath coming and going in ragged gasps.

“He promised me,” Konstancji said, his voice falling. “After a year, he said -- on the anniversary of his death. He’ll come back to me.”

“That’s impossible, and you know it.”

“No. He lives, Borys. I can feel it. I can feel him everywhere in the house. And I don’t mean traces of his past with me. I’m talking about feeling him -- his presence. As if he’s never really left. In the garden, I can feel him tending the roses. In the library, I can feel him sorting through books. In the parlor, I can feel him sitting beside me by the fire. In the bedroom, I can feel him lying beside me. His scent, his breath against my neck. Sometimes I hear his voice whispering to me.” Konstancji’s eyes sparkled with a wild urgency. “Sometimes,” he continued, whispering fiercely, “I see him -- I see his shadow everywhere -- wandering around the house -- the garden. Sometimes I feel it following me where I go. He’s here. He never left me -- in spirit at least. And he’s waiting, biding his time.”

His stricken companion stared at him incredulously.

“You don’t have to believe me. I never expected you or anybody else to understand.”

“He’s dead, Konstancji. He’s dead. Consumption took him from you. He wasn’t ready, and you weren’t ready, but it couldn’t be helped. You can’t fight Fate.” Borys sighed, his breath hissing unevenly through cracked lips. “Let him go, for heaven’s sake, and move on. There’s so much more the world can offer you.”

Konstancji laughed lightly and regarded his companion with a look of condescending pity. “Circumstances couldn’t be helped, perhaps, but you underestimate the human will. Ziven promised that he’d return, he told me what I needed to do and how it was all going to happen, and I promised to help him -- welcome him back.”

Borys shook his head, mouthing, “You’re mad,” and Konstancji leaned down to press his lips against his, a fleeting, idle kiss -- gentle, amused ...

...and deadly.