Stormbringer: Book 2 of the Wyrd

Epilogue

The comment earned him a glance, and half a grin. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Two days' of thinking was still thinking, right? "I mean, with the game and stuff. It's a big job, so . . . PU has a course on game dev. Could be fun."

"Nothing about uni is fun," Em said, but she was smiling.

* * *

They played two more rounds, until the sweat dripped down Sigmund's back and he was pretty sure he'd earned his dessert. He waved goodbye to Em in the LB foyer, taking the long way around towards the doors. The short route would've taken him past the lifts. Past the spot with the new tiles and the gleaming grout he was trying not to see. Trying so much, in fact, that he didn't notice someone approaching from that direction until an arm had threaded with his and a voice hissed, "Keep walking! Act natural!" into his ear.

"What? La—"

"Sssh!"

Lain was wearing a black hoodie, black scarf, black jeans, aviator sunglasses, and a black ball cap pulled down low over his face. He looked absolutely ridiculous.

Somewhere up above, Sigmund saw the red blinking of the LB CCTV cameras.

"You escaped, huh?" Sigmund felt the corner of his mouth turn up into a smile, his fingers lacing through Lain's black leather gloves.

"I said sssh. She doesn't know."

Sigmund very much doubted that. Especially when they approached the exit and the doors began to slide slowly closed.

"Hold the doors!" Lain shouted, to no one in particular. Sigmund buried his face in his hand as everyone in the foyer turned their way, including at least three security guards. Then Lain let go of Sigmund's arm, dashing forward and leaping out of the building in a perfect double summersault just before the glass slammed shut.

The foyer broke out into startled applause and a scattering of laughter, but Lain was already gone, vanishing down to the stairs and out of the building. The only thing left behind was his hat.

Sigmund just rolled his eyes. "He's had a long week," he offered by way of explanation.

One of the guards nodded. "I feel that, mate."

When Sigmund approached the exit, the doors slid open. As he walked through, he glanced up at the sensor and said, "I'll bring him back tomorrow." He grabbed the hat as he went.

Outside, the sky was dark and heavy, not quite raining. Sigmund found Lain hiding between the huge stone slabs of the LB statue, pressing himself against the rock and looking around in an exaggerated fashion.

"Did we escape?" he said, when Sigmund walked up.

"What did you do to Arin, man?"

Even behind sunglasses, Sigmund could feel Lain's eyes shift from side-to-side. " . . . Nothing."

"Uh-huh. Don't you lie to me, birdboy."

Lain extracted himself from the statue, following Sigmund away from the building, across the road and towards home.

"I, uh. I told Nic I was considering retirement."

Sigmund's step faltered at the words. The truthful words. "Why would you—?" Lain loved LB. Lain was LB. He couldn't retire. Gods didn't get to retire . . . right?

"Er, well . . ." Lain winced. "It was just a thought. Nic was pretty clear on it not being a viable option. I think she's punishing me for even thinking it. I have to read reports on how many reports I have to read."

In the distance, thunder rumbled. Sigmund tried not to remember a smell like overcooked bacon.

(natural phenomena, just the shock wave from lightning superheating the air)

When the first few drops of rain began to fall, Lain raised his hood and burrowed his chin into his scarf. When he extended his arm, Sigmund accepted. It took a few moments for them to fall into step; Lain's strides longer and faster than Sigmund's own awkward shuffle. But it was getting easier. This walking together thing. Much easier.

Not that it'd been very difficult to start with.

"Well," Sigmund said, "how 'bout we take you home. Have some dinner. Then, uh"—don't blush don't blush don't—"then you can give me that biology lesson you promised."

"What bio—" Lain started. Then caught on to the mental image Sigmund was sending his way. "Oo-oo-oh," he said. "That biology lesson."

"Sound good?"

"Sounds pretty good, I'd say."

"Good. Then, afterwards, when I'm asleep, you can finish up whatever Arin wants you to do."

"Hey. Wait a second—"

"Because, like. No offense? I love you, but I do not want to be on your VP's bad side."

No response. One step, two steps. Three. When Sigmund looked up, Lain was smiling, big and soft and doofy.

Overhead, the rain began to fall.