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him and kissed him. “Not sleeping. Still here. You were sleeping.”
    There was humor in his voice again, but it was faint, though the black of his eyes was just as intense. Myrddin shifted, as uncomfortable under that stare as he had been with the idea of love, but Kas only kissed him once, then sat up and said it again.
    “More words now, love.”
    “Kas, you…you can’t call me that.”
    Kas frowned, and the ground beneath him was suddenly drained of all its energies. The green that had grown out of Myrddin’s blood went to brown dust and dead stalks in an instant. “You call me Kas .”
    Myrddin opened his mouth to say that it wasn’t the same thing, not the same at all, but Kas licked his lips in a way that made Myrddin’s whole body shudder.
    “Words. Words for me, love.”
    The sound of it ached with defiance, and this time Myrddin only sighed, succumbed to the soft pressure of Kas’ mouth on his lips and tried not to moan. Everywhere they touched, his skin tingled, and he was lightheaded now…and drowsy.
    “What do I talk about, what do I say? Anything? Everything? I came looking for you… Well, I didn’t know it was you, but my father sent me looking for someone and now I know he meant you. My father’s the Wood God, but my mother was mortal—so it’s not always easy for me, you know? No, never mind, you couldn’t. You’re something else, you… I don’t know what you are.”
    “Death. And Kas, because you said so.”
    “So helpful.” Myrddin snickered at him, kissed him when he frowned, and again when that frown lingered. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I know that, but it doesn’t help me understand. I only feel with you, around you, that there’s something…so dark.”
    He shivered, but this time it wasn’t from pleasure. He didn’t know what it was from—not fear, not cold. “I want it, Kas. I don’t even know what it is and I want it. You like that, don’t you? Isn’t that why you killed me? Or was that just because I needed it, and not because you wanted it—or was it both?”
    “Both, love.” Imperative, definite. “ Both .” Emphatic and oh, so sure.
    “How do you learn so fast? You didn’t know anything at first, but now you can answer my questions, and you know the words when I say them.”
    “I know everything. But you give me words. You talk to me.”
    Myrddin laughed, disbelieving, and shook his head. “ Kas . You make it sound like no one ever—” And he paused, taking in the serious look on Kas’ face, the solemn turn of his lips. “No one’s ever talked to you?”
    Something like a smile stretched Kas’ lips, amused and bitter. He didn’t need to say anything this time. After all, who talks to death?
    “I’m…sorry.” Myrddin wanted to say something else, something better, but nothing more meaningful came to mind. He had only questions he wasn’t sure he wanted the answers to, questions he wasn’t sure Kas had the words to answer anyway. The how, the why…the where he had come from, the what of his who…mysteries. All of them, mysteries.
    Myrddin had met others like himself, though infrequently, other children of mortals and divine beings. Kas wasn’t like them, wasn’t like him. The only thing mortal in him was the influence of his power…and that, at least, was death. Death . He could taste it without saying it, rich as autumn loam, but he didn’t understand where it came from.
    Despite himself, the question slid past his lips. “Kas…you still haven’t told me what you are. Where you came from. I’d like to know, would you tell me? Can you tell me? I’ll give you all the words I can, but—”
    “I am death . I came from…what is came from ? That means something, but not to me. Since I was needed, I am here.”
    A dry chuckle filled the space between them, and Myrddin shook his head. “So, you are like me—at least that way. And you don’t know anything except that you’re death…and you aren’t, you know, not really, not