Date: Mon, 12 Sep 2016 05:37:11 -0500
From: Kody Boye <boyekody@gmail.com>
Subject: His Touch of Ice - Part 44

DISCLAIMER:

This is a work of fiction, and contains scenes of graphic violence and
explicit male/male sex. If you are not of the legal age to read this, or
are uncomfortable with this sort of content, please turn back now.

HIS TOUCH OF ICE (The Ice Men, Book 1) is copyright © Kody Boye. All
Rights are reserved.

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"The Kelda wants to see you," Guy said.

I raised my head from buttoning my shirt and stared at him. "What?" I
asked.

"Tonight. After dark."

"Why?"

"I don't know. That's all my father told me."

I faltered in my attempts to continue buttoning my shirt and eventually
decided to just leave it halfway undone. Seating myself on the bed, I
started to reach for my shoes, but remembered I'd developed the habit of
taking them off by the door and shook my head, dreading the fact that my
nerves were getting the best of me.

"It'll be ok," Guy said, settling down beside me.

"Where?"

"Below the house. There's a hidden entrance into what my father calls the
`Security Compound' directly beneath the rug in the front living room,
though if you ask me I call it the ice box."

"Why?"

"Because that's where she lives. Underground."

I sighed and bowed my head.

"You won't be going alone," Guy continued. "I specifically told my father
that I refused to let you see her without another Kaldr present."

"Do people normally attend her summons alone?"

"She is our goddess. Normally, it would be improper and completely
disrespectful to bring another person with us, yet she understands that you
are a human and might suffer the shock of seeing her."

"She's not—"

"Human? No. She isn't."

I swallowed the lump in my throat but kept my thoughts to myself, though
physically it was hard to maintain any form of integral diplomacy. Thoughts
flashed through my head—fire, lightning, ice raining down the sky. They
said she was one of the first. Was she a god? If not human, what?

The skittering sensation of chills crossing up and down my spine weren't
the result of Guy pressing his hand against my back. I imagined it could
have been her, all the way down there—watching, waiting for me to
come. I instinctually shied toward Guy's body and was thankful for the arm
he set around me.

"She isn't a judging god, Jason. Her benevolence is what sustains us."

"What does she want with me? What reason does she have to talk to me?"

"I don't know, Jason. I wish I could tell you more."

Had there been a rift—a shift, disturbance, the complete upheaval of
what it was to be `normal' due to my presence? Would I be cast to the sea,
forced to swim without the help of a lifeboat, devoid of a companion,
unfortunate in the fact that he could not argue my case? If I was being
kicked out of here—if I couldn't stay on the ranch—then what would I—

I focused my attention just well enough to where the tears ready to spring
from my eyes did not come forth.

Guy's hand, flat along my ribcage, flexed, then settled back against my
chest.

"It'll be ok," he said, his lips against my ear. "It'll just be a
visit. That's all."

That's all?

Could such an important summons be just a visit?

I wouldn't know until later.

Tonight.

Tonight.

It couldn't come soon enough.
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If you enjoyed this installment of HIS TOUCH OF ICE, consider emailing the
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