Ink and Steel

“Master Shakespeare.” Lucifer bent and extended a hand; Will took it reflexively, surprised that it felt … so much like a hand. “Still thou hast written not a word. Stubborn man.”

“I am what I am.”

“Stubborn enough.” Lucifer said. “Come. Thou art released. Thou art no longer welcomed in Hell.”

Will blinked, tilted his head to the side. “Released?”

“Aye.” Lucifer chivvied him along with a guiding wing. Will might have glanced back at the little cottage, the glade in the pines. But Lucifer’s wing blocked his vision, and he was half certain that if he turned the house would not be there.

“Your Highness, I do not understand.”

“Thy lover has purchased thy freedom.” The Devil smiled, his blue eyesglittering.

“And lucky thou art to command such loyalty. And such a ferocious soul.”

My lover? I haven’t one,Will thought. But I did. Once.“Morgan? What would Morgan want with me again?”

“No,” Lucifer said. “Not Morgan, gentle William. Ah, look. Already, here is the door.”

   Act III, scene xxi

His waxen wings did mount above his reach

And melting, heavens conspired his overthrow.

CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE, Faustus

Will, thin and shivering in the red light of Hell, leaned against the yawning, gateless mouth of a dark stone stair. Eye bright as if with fever and clutching his doublet tight around him as if Hell had left not heat but deep cold in his marrow, he reminded Kit of a bony old cat. He would not look up, would not look Kit in the face. He didn’t seem to notice the lack of scars or the missing eyepatch, but the light, in truth, was poor, and Kit could see Will shivering. Kit thought to lay a hand on Will’s sleeve. He was as helpless to bridge the gap between them as to thrust a hand through a brick wall.

Will touched him though, and Kit’s mouth filled with the taste of whiskey, his nostrils with the scent of smoke. He stepped away more rudely than he could have. Will. Don’t

“Kit. Sweet Christofer.”

Oh, strange, to hear the name said in a lover’s voice and feel no shiver of recognition in its cadences. Tis no longer thy name, who was Christofer Marley.

“You came for me.”

“I chose a side, Will. The side that would have me as God made me.” The tone that should have been light and playful fell on his own ears like pebbles in a pool. Plop, plop, plop. Kit wondered if the ripples of what Lucifer had done would ever stop shaking the stillness of his soul.

“You came for me.” Will said it again, and this time Kit heard the disbelief clearly.”

“I love thee.”

He led Will to the stair.

“You love Morgan.”

“Oh. No.”

“Dammit, Kit, I saw the two of you together. Robin said…” Will swallowed, audibly. “And all the years I’ve been gone, have you not spent at her side? And now she needs me for something. Else why would it have taken you so long to come.”

“Puck. Damn you, too. Ah, wait. I already did that.” Kit bit his lip on a hysterical laugh. “Years, Will?”

“How much time has passed in the mortal realm?” Will asked wearily. “Who is King?”

“It’s still Hallow’s eve or was when I rode out of Faerie. And Elizabeth reigns yet. Hours, not years.” Kit knew he needed to turn and put his hand on Will’s sleeve, to knot his fingers in Will’s hair and hold him close. He knew it from Will’s sidelong glances, and the careful, conscious way Will kept his hands at his sides. But all he could sense was the touch of Lucifer’s hands on his body, those bright wings fanning over him, the taste of the angel’s skin. “Damn. Faerie time. Time in Hell. How long was it, Will?”

Will would not return Kit’s steady regard. “I lost my calendar.”

“God. Will I’m sorry.” Inadequate, and untrue. Kit shuddered. He wasn’t sorry. He was angry. “God in Hell, Will, if you knew what you cost me.” Pish. Kit. And if thou hadst gone to the teind as Morgan willed, wouldst havechosen differently what thou didst to Satan sell?“Thou’rt safe now. My love.”

Will flinched. “Mine other love sold thee to Hell. Whom thou didst love also.”

“Tis not love, Kit said. Morgan’s Fae. Betrayal, tis … part of whatshe is. As for me I’m sorry. I am so sorry, Will.” And he was. And angry, still.

Will did not try to touch him again, but walked very near, without speaking, on Kit’s left hand. Kit let the silence hold them, and hoped there was forgiveness in it. It was good for thinking, that silence, and he bent his mind to Lucifer, and Christ, and God, and Will.

Will, who turned and looked at him straight, finally, and let his eyebrows rise. “There’s a revelation on your face.”