by Ann Aguirre
She nodded. “I looted some provisions for the road from the wedding gifts. Should I feel guilty?”
“They’ll never miss whatever you took,” he said.
With a bright sun overhead and a soft breeze blowing in from the sea, the weather was better than it had been since they started traveling together. She lifted her face toward the sky and smiled. “Feels good to be on the move again.”
He hesitated. “We could borrow a Rover, if you prefer, but—”
“No, I’d rather travel like this, with you and Gray. I don’t mind if it takes longer.”
That was an understatement. Mags knew damn well this was a terrible idea, but she was clutching at straws and making excuses to stick around. I must be out of my mind. Yet when he mounted and offered his hand, she took it and pulled herself up behind him without hesitation.
“Hold on,” he called.
Mags wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against his back, listening to the beat of his heart, peculiarly in tempo with the thud of Gray’s hooves. The trip to Kelnora went faster this time since they didn’t roam for hours in the opposite direction looking for an elusive scent trail. They rode away from Daruvar, then angled toward the sea. By nightfall, they reached the outskirts of town, much prettier wreathed in purple twilight instead of an ice storm.
Most of the snow had melted, leaving patches of bare mud. In the center of town, there was a farmer’s market winding down with crates of wrinkly vegetables, barrels of fresh fish, and rounds of white cheese the merchant was selling by the slice. Farther along, there was a stall with hot savory pies and sugared fry bread. Everything smelled delicious, reminding Mags that they’d only paused once today.
The boy from the stable appeared, crooning to Gray, then he spoke to Gavriel in a pleading tone. “I’ll take him. Can I?”
Normally, Gavriel didn’t let anyone look after his mount, but this time, he nodded.
“Let’s get dinner,” she started to say, just as Gavriel asked, “Should we…?”
He leapt down from Gray’s back, smiling, and turned the reins over to the lad. “Seems we’re in agreement.”
Thankfully he had Eldritch coin to spend, as she doubted Animari currency would be any good here. They strolled together, buying enough food—whatever looked good—to create a meal. She ate mushroom pie and grilled fish with lemon, a slice of cheese and then Gavriel bought some cinnamon fry bread, breaking off a piece.
He offered her a bite, an echo of how she’d fed him when he was tied to the bed. She parted her lips and ate the pastry, conscious of the way he was watching her. Hungry, attentive. Mags knew exactly what she was doing when she licked her lips.
“Good?” he asked.
“I like it.”
“Want more?”
Why did I teach him these things? Before, he had no idea how to flirt, but he was a damned fast learner. “Yes, please.”
The role reversal tantalized them both, especially since they were out in public where nothing could happen. He fed her another tidbit, alternating between them, until the bread was gone. A devil came over her then, and she licked his fingers clean, then she bit the tips, one by one. The sudden blaze in his eyes said she’d gotten the reaction she desired.
“Temptress,” he whispered.
“Thank you,” she said demurely.
Away from their various roles and responsibilities, this felt like a…date. Such an innocent word, one she had no reason to use any longer. Gavriel took her hand and carried it to his mouth, eyes on hers. And dammit, her heart fluttered. No, more than that, it was trying to turn over for him. This shouldn’t be happening.
“Unless you stop me, I’m going to kiss you.”
Her pulse went wild when he pulled her into the shadows of a nearby building. Gavriel kissed just as she’d taught him, open-mouthed and hungry. His tongue was hot, and he tasted of sugar. It was new to feel him hard against her already as she bit down on his lower lip. He moaned, breaking the kiss to angle his neck for her mouth, and she marked him there, eagerly, gladly.
“There’s no end to this want,” he said in a raw, aching tone.
“Rein it in. I’m not yanking you off right now, though if you’re good, I’ll do you with my mouth later.”
He groaned and stepped away, so they weren’t touching anymore. When he finally spoke, his voice was composed, no sign of his recent excitement. “Do you think Keriel and Leena are still at the public house?”
“It’s as good a place to start as any.”
He didn’t let go of her hand as they walked, and she didn’t insist, but she was oddly conscious of that single point of contact. His fingers were slender and callused, likely from long years of combat training, and his palms were hard. She remembered how gently he’d touched her in the bath and—
Enough of that. Live in the moment.
She had her emotions under control by the time they reached the inn. Even in good weather, the place was lively. She spotted Keriel right away; she seemed to be carrying drinks and wiping tables. Did Haryk give her a job? Leena was playing by the hearth and she glanced up as the door opened.
The little girl beamed when she spied Mags and Gavriel, rushing to them with such exuberance that Mags caught her, swung her around, and then tossed her to the Noxblade, who didn’t miss a step. He snatched the child firmly and twirled her as well, until Leena was clinging to his neck and giggling.
The unfettered joy of his expression—that was how he should look. He wasn’t meant for poison and shadows, being used as a weapon in someone else’s war. If life had been kind, he would’ve grown up with a mother who loved him with all her heart and a father who could teach him the things a man should know. Suddenly, her eyes stung, and her throat was thick with tears.
What the hell.
Gently, Gavriel set Leena down, kneeling so she could still reach him. The little girl patted his cheek. “You came! You kept your promise. Did you bring me anything?”
Mags hadn’t even thought of that, but to her surprise, he nodded, reaching into his pack. First, he produced two metal soldiers, next a softly worn cloth doll. He held up the first toy. “Play with these if you’re feeling fierce.”
Leena took them with a rapt smile and promptly banged their heads together. “Take that! No, you take this.” Another headbutt.
“She has a future in combat,” Mags said, grinning.
Gavriel gave her the doll next. “She’ll keep you company if you’re lonely. Play with her when you’re feeling gentle.”
“I won’t let her fight the men,” Leena declared.
“Why not?” Gavriel asked before Mags could.
“She’s bigger. And maybe it seems like she’s weak because she’s soft, but they can’t hurt her because she bends, see?” The girl demonstrated by folding the doll in half.
She can’t be broken because she bends.
Why did that seem like such an astonishing piece of wisdom? She caught Gavriel’s eye and thought he looked equally shocked by that insight. Mags smiled a little, and he smiled a lot, and oh gods, we’re doing that again.
“You are unbearably clever,” Gavriel said.
“Thank you.” Leena kissed him on the cheek, and it wasn’t clear if she meant for the toys or the compliment.
Either way, the sweetness left him motionless, watching Leena with a wistful expression. Mags found herself wishing he could meet someone who would understand him, cherish him, and give him a place to belong. Someone who isn’t me.
Damn, that stings.
She masked that pain as best she could, asking brightly, “When did you prepare those gifts anyway? There are no shops in Daruvar.”
He met her look, eyes sparkling. “I stole them. They belonged to Thalia at one point, but she won’t miss them. She’s not the sentimental sort.”
“I love…that.” The words almost came without her volition, and she barely swallowed the last one.
Your love’s a curse. Never speak of it.
B
ad enough that the feeling had fought past her locks and gates, despite all her efforts at self-preservation. It was too late now; she’d just have to ride it out and wait until the feeling faded. Six months should do it, maybe a year. For now, though, she devoured his face with her gaze, tracing his austere features with mental fingertips.
There’s no stopping. I’m too far gone.
Gavriel nearly stopped breathing at the warmth of Mags’s look. For long moments, he stared at her, wondering how it was possible that she got more beautiful every time he blinked. To test the theory, he opened and closed his eyes several times, and each time, she became more luminous, more enchanting, more…everything.
“Drinks are on me,” Keriel said, cheerfully interrupting. Bending to set them on the table, she lowered her voice. “I have some information if you want it.”
Gavriel glanced up, instantly alert. “Please tell us.”
“Soon after you left, a party came through, bought up a suspicious amount of supplies, and when Haryk tried to be sociable, they shut him down. They were definitely citizens, but something about them set my teeth on edge.”
“Why are you telling us this?”
“Well, it was plain you were hunting for something or someone when you found us. I thought maybe this would help.”
“Do you have any idea which way they went?” Mags asked. She seemed to suspect the same as Gavriel, that those men could’ve been sent from the loyalist stronghold.
Keriel shrugged. “They said something about the finger islands if that means anything to you?”
Gavriel bit back a curse. “Well, that’s good news, bad news territory,” he said, as Keriel hurried to tend another table.
“Good first?” Mags suggested.
“I know exactly where they’re hiding.”
“Bad?”
“It’ll be hard as hell to root them out…and we’ll need to find someone who can loan us a boat.”
She raised a brow. “Do you know how to sail?”
“Hell no. You?”
Laughing, she shook her head. “So we’re both stumped. I guess tomorrow we ask at the docks. This is a fishing town, right? If you have some coin left, we can hire help.”
Haryk came over then, shaking hands with Gavriel and Mags in turn. “You couldn’t stay away, huh? Your room in the attic is available again if you want it. I won’t even charge you for old times’ sake.”
“Come on, you couldn’t anyway!” Mags protested. “There’s no bed.”
“I’m unclear why you’re offering us special treatment,” Gavriel said.
Perhaps it was his nature to be suspicious, but he wasn’t taking favors, only to be dunned for them later. He fixed a skeptical stare on the innkeeper who bent to whisper, “I’m courting Keriel. Don’t tell her, I’m not sure she’s figured it out yet. If you hadn’t brought them to town, we wouldn’t have met. I’d still be a lonely old crust instead of the vibrant swain you behold today.”
“Why is she working as a barmaid?” Mags asked. “Irina said she’s a seamstress.”
“I offered to build her a shop, but my lady love insists on paying her own way. She’ll earn the money to open her own business, she says. I wish she’d just marry me and let me spoil her, but…” Haryk let out a gusty sigh.
“Then…felicitations,” Gavriel said.
“Too soon! Do you want the room or not?”
“We’ll take it,” Mags answered.
Though he didn’t normally drink the stuff, he finished the beer and watched Haryk chase Keriel, who didn’t seem to know what to make of her employer’s attention. He nudged Mags.
“What odds do you give them?”
Canting her head, she considered. “He’s going about it wrong. If he wants to win Keriel, he needs to earn Leena’s heart first, and she seems fairly indifferent.”
The little girl was still playing in front of the fireplace, acting out dramatic scenes with her metal soldiers. Gavriel nodded. “You might be right. Shall we go up?”
Before, she’d asked if he had a place that belonged only to him, and the answer was no. But wherever she was felt like home. He didn’t know when it had become that way, but it was truth now, so when they went upstairs to that cramped attic space with the round porthole window and boxes piled around, a sense of homecoming washed over him.
“Is it weird that I feel…nostalgic?” she asked. “Though it hasn’t been that long.”
“A lot has happened in a short time. So no, not at all.”
As they talked, they laid the blankets together, and such a simple chore filled him with incredible joy. She took it for granted that they’d share the same covers now. He settled in first, waiting for her with a heart that wouldn’t stop singing. It was all he could do to hide this absurd delight, biting his lower lip to smother the smile.
“They need so many things here,” she went on, oblivious to his mood. “I wish there was something we could do.”
“Perhaps we can, once we resolve our unfinished business.”
“Yours, more than mine. But I did promise,” she added, likely responding to Gavriel’s sharp look.
I won’t give you any excuse to slip away. Once we finish this, I’ll come up with another reason why you must stay.
If he was lucky, this tactic would work for forty years or so, and they’d never speak of love. He didn’t need to say the words or hear them; he only needed for Mags to stay beside him. As in response to his unspoken wish, she crawled under the covers.
“Let’s play a game,” he said then.
“Does this end with one of us tied up and—”
He set a finger against her lips, stopping the flow of tantalizing words. “Listen until I’m finished, please.”
“Fine, go ahead.”
“Sometimes in the guild, at night, after lessons were done, they played ‘Would You Rather’.”
“They?” she asked softly.
“I was never invited.” He didn’t even care anymore. Those memories didn’t have the power to gnaw at him. She’d granted him that shield with her warmth and her desire. “They thought I was silent and strange and ill-starred. Oriel sometimes joined their games, but he felt guilty about leaving me alone, and it was almost worse when he stayed.”
“I get it. And I think I know this game. ‘Would you rather eat a beetle or shave your head?’ That sort of thing.”
“I’d shave my head,” Gavriel answered.
“That was only an example, but I guess we’re playing for real now. Your turn.”
Really, this was a chance to learn more about her without giving away his intentions, so he thought hard about the question. “Would you rather live without touching anyone or without being touched?”
“That’s an easy one. Without being touched. That way I can still…”
His imagination filled in the blank in all manner of interesting ways. “I predicted that one. Go ahead.”
“Hm, I don’t like being predictable. Would you rather drink nothing but beer or eat nothing but cheese?”
“Cheese,” he answered promptly. “It’s embarrassing how much I love it.”
“And you hate beer.”
“You noticed?” he asked in surprise.
“Obviously. Your mouth curls ever so slightly to the left when you’re not enjoying something.”
He tried to look away, but he couldn’t, even though she was like the sun burning away at his shadows, until his eyes stung. Nobody had ever observed him so closely. What does that mean…? He could barely stand the flicker of hope, blooming like some fragile flower inside him.
“It’s a trifle alarming how well you seem to know me.”
“Relax, I’m not cataloguing your weaknesses to use against you.”
“I’m not concerned about that. Should we continue the game?”
“In all honesty, I’d rather get naked. I’ve been thinking about it ever since we kissed in the market.” She leaned in, staring into his eyes, until he was dizzy with her scent, he
r touch, her warmth. “But I don’t want you to feel like I’m disinterested in the talking, like I’m using you as a sex object.”
“Use me,” he said at once. “I’ll be any object you wish. A desk, a table. Even a lamp, though the wiring might prove troublesome—” Then she kissed him, laughing and kissing at the same time.
It was the softest, silkiest kiss, and silly as well, and it filled his chest with helium. That he could make her smile, her eyes warm as melted honey. She broke away, touched her brow to his.
“I’ve never had anyone offer to be my sex lamp before.”
“Rub me and make a wish,” he blurted. Where was this nonsense coming from?
But her smile widened, and she giggled. Then she pinned him, whispered what she intended to do to him, and his whole body went up in flames.
25.
Morning came too quickly.
For Mags, it seemed like she’d barely fallen asleep and suddenly there were birds chirping, light streaming in the porthole window, and people bustling around downstairs. She rolled over and found Gavriel right there, eyes open, as if he’d been watching her for a while. When he saw that she was awake, he smiled.
“Ready to start the day?”
“Do I have a choice?” she grumbled.
“Of course. You could stay here instead of venturing to the islands with me.”
“That’s not happening,” she said firmly.
Gavriel took that as his cue; he rolled out of the blankets and started getting dressed. With a groan, she did the same. They packed quickly, collected their gear, and went downstairs, where Haryk had breakfast waiting—fresh pastries, juice, hot tea, and sliced fruit. She would’ve been grateful for some fish, regretting her complaints about the food at Daruvar. In fair weather, there weren’t many guests, just Mags, Gavriel, and another couple, who didn’t seem sociable.
“You’re on the way out, I see,” Haryk observed.
Leena glanced up from shredding the pastry on her plate. “You’re going already?”
“We can’t ask them to stay forever.” Keriel knelt beside her daughter’s chair and put a gentle hand on her head. “I’m sure they’ll visit again if they can.”