“Thank you, Dr. Sasaki. We have more questions—”
“No more questions,” Adam told them, briskly. “The scientists and engineers have had a very long night, and we would like to find a hotel.” Or, rather, Livorus. Sleep can wait till we’ve grabbed the local Praetorians, found him, and gotten to a secure location. Oh, and getting Minori checked by a doctor. I’d add Trennus to that list, but . . . well . . . .
They gathered a group of local Praetorians, as much to bodyguard themselves as Livorus, and went directly to the summer palace of the Sapa Inca. Lassair confirmed from a mile away, that Livorus was present, alive and well, if a little harried. The palace guards were at first reluctant to admit that the propraetor was on site, but Adam pointed out, quietly, “You’re aware that your emperor was at the sacred site on Coropuna during the explosion?”
The various guards all glanced at one another, sidelong, and eventually moved Adam up the chain of command until he was speaking to the highest-ranked personal guard of the Emperor available on site. There were uncomfortable questions about how the propraetor’s lictors had escaped the destruction, while the Sapa Inca and most of his bodyguards had yet to check in. Adam, backed by twenty local Praetorians, however, had enough weight to throw around to snap out, finally, “I’m not going to answer one more damned question until you provide to me my protectee, in good health and condition. And if you do not do so in the next five minutes, we are going to start going through the walls to get to him.”
The royal guards backed down at that point. They had no leadership structure in place; the emperor’s chief bodyguards had gone with him to the volcano. They didn’t have an emperor. And they were in the unwanted position of holding a propraetor of the Roman Empire hostage.
Livorus himself was unharmed, just as Lassair had sensed. “Ah, there you are,” he said, on being brought out from wherever he’d been housed, as calmly as if his various lictors had been slightly overdue from a long stroll. “These gentlemen were most accommodating about allowing me outside of the palace during the recent earthquakes. I did make a few observations about how Rome might be amenable to sending relief workers and supplies to an ally of such long standing, were it not for the fact that one of the Empire’s representatives was currently being held captive, but alas, no one here was of an appropriate rank to make decisions regarding my status. Until now, apparently.” He gave Adam a piercing glance. “Shall we make our way hence?”
“Yes, sir,” Adam agreed. Having someone else around to make decisions was a complete relief.
“I look forward to the debriefing.” Livorus bowed, very slightly, over Sigrun’s hand. “And I am delighted to see you all well and comparatively healthy.”
___________________
Most of the hotels in Machu Picchu had been shaken by the earthquakes; but they now had running water and a rotating watch of twenty Praetorians. Kanmi, however, took Minori to the local hospital, and used his badge without compunction. “I’m not saying to skip her to the head of the line,” he told the nurses. “I’m saying that she had internal injuries, severe ones, earlier in the day. She was given some healing by one of your priestesses, but we need some follow-up care here, to make sure her organs are back in the right places and there’s no internal bleeding.”
The nurse behind the desk, who looked harried, and had a waiting room filled with bleeding, hurt people, gave him a tired stare. “She walked in here on her own two feet. She can wait with the rest of the non-bleeders.”
Kanmi wasn’t much in a mood to deal with this. “Listen to the words I am speaking to you,” he told the nurse, leaning forward, and lowering his voice. Quietness sometimes got people’s attention more quickly than yelling. “She has had internal injuries—”
“So have most of the people in the room. She’s had more healing than most of them had—”
“How many of them were tortured by a fucking maniac of a sorcerer for four hours, and how many of them had a random piece of debris fall on them? Now, can we reassess the triage line?” Kanmi glared at the nurse for a long moment, and her mouth opened into an O of pure horror.
Minori reached out and caught his elbow. “It’s all right. I’ll wait my turn,” she told him. “You don’t have to stay.”
“Where in Astarte’s name did you get the idea that I was going anywhere?” Kanmi gave her a look. “That’s all we need. Someone hears you’re alive, and comes here for try number three.”
Minori gave him a look. “You are paranoid, Master Eshmunazar.”
It had been Kanmi for the past three weeks. He grimaced. “Not paranoid enough, Dr. Sasaki.”
Four hours later, Kanmi gave up. He took Minori back to the car, and hustled her back to the hotel. “I don’t see why,” she protested.
“By the time they finally give you an MRI and determine, yes, there’s been internal bleeding, you’re going to be in your eighties and have healed on your own, or dead. Let’s just have Caetia fix the damage before the internal organs scar up, and before the wounds aren’t fresh enough for her to do her thing.” Kanmi started the car, annoyed with himself. “I should have asked her before this. I just don’t like to bother her, because there’s a price-tag attached. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t think you knew those words. But you’ve said them quite often today.” Minori’s voice was drowsy as he took off through the crowded streets. Everyone in Machu Picchu was out of their houses and on foot, or so it seemed.
“Oh, I’m sorry about a lot of things in my life. And when it’s true, I say it. But there isn’t a lot of point in apologizing just to apologize.” Kanmi slowly made his way through a crosswalk where the pedestrians simply would not clear the way, and tried not to visualize shoving them out of the way with sorcery. “In this case? I’m not sure I or any of the rest of the team can make it up to you, that we weren’t there—”
Minori, who’d been leaning her head back against the seat, opened her eyes and looked at him. “Members of the team were there, Kanmi. Two men died trying to protect me. And Asha.” Her dark gaze held his. “I don’t think you have to apologize.”
“Yes. I do. The men who were there weren’t me. They were excellent at what they did, but they weren’t me.” It sounded arrogant, said out loud, but his voice was empty. He turned off into the newer residential area where their hotel was located. The oldest buildings in the city, with their monumental, inwards-inclined walls, were untouched. The newest buildings, with steel frames and earthquake reinforcing, were in good shape. Anything built between 1500 and 1890 AC, however, seemed to have taken heavy damage.
“So because they weren’t you, they were doomed to failure? You’re a good sorcerer, Mas . . . Kanmi. So am I. I couldn’t get free of all of those sent against us—”
“Yes, but if I’d been there, you and I probably could have dealt with them, together.” Kanmi sighed and followed the orders of a gardia member, out directing traffic around a street filled with fallen building debris. A sidelong glance at Minori, as he finally reached their hotel. “You are an incredible caster, Dr. Sasaki. You can do a few things I absolutely can’t, and I’d really like to discuss them with you, at your convenience.” He found a parking spot in an area clear of debris, and hopped out to open her door for her. Catching her opening the door herself, he chided her, gently, “Until we know for sure that everyone who wanted you dead, is actually dead? You should let me cover you getting in and out of vehicles.”
Minori sighed a little, and nodded. As they entered the hotel lobby—catching lungfuls of dust from the walls that had had shed cracked plaster all over the interior, she asked, quietly, “You said there was a price on Caetia’s healing? She’s going to ask me for my firstborn, then?”
“Ah, no.” Kanmi cleared his throat. “She literally takes the wound from you. Whatever the injury is, broken bone, a cut, a bruise . . . it gets transferred to her own body. She heals a good deal faster than the rest of us. But still, it hurts. And it takes energy for her to heal. So I don’t
like to ask her to do it.”
Minori’s mouth dropped open, and she started to shake her head in refusal. “Don’t,” Kanmi told her, trying not to sound harsh or abrupt. “I have no idea if Cocohuay healed you enough to prevent scarring to the internal organs, or if they’re permanently damaged. That’s all I was hoping the MRI would tell us. On the whole, I’d really prefer for you not to suffer any long-term damage because of our fuck-up.”
By now, they’d reached the elevator, which had an out-of-order sign on it. Kanmi exhaled. He hadn’t actually been in the hotel yet, not any longer than to grab his room key, which he now checked, and verified yes, first-floor. Gods bless Tren and his absurd anxieties, this once, Kanmi thought. It was easier to think about things like that, than the fact that Tren had been dead today for a solid five minutes. Just put one foot in front of the other for now, and just plod onwards.
Minori didn’t know what to make of Sigrun’s healing abilities, once Kanmi had tapped for admission to Adam and Sigrun’s room. The valkyrie knelt in front of her as she sat on the couch, hands lightly pressed to Minori’s shoulders, lit up from within with her god’s power. And she could see what it cost the woman, as the light faded, leaving Sigrun looking weary, and her skin ashen. “Cocohuay did her best, but I’m surprised you were able to walk, let alone run, earlier,” Sigrun assessed quietly. “In a strange way, though, it’s fortunate that the wounds weren’t too much healed. I couldn’t have helped, otherwise.” She paused. “You weren’t in pain?”
Minori couldn’t deny that she felt much better now. Every lingering, residual ache had passed out of her body, followed by a soothing warmth. She stretched hesitantly, and then with more enthusiasm. “I was,” she admitted. “But it was much less bad than it had been before the first round of healing magic.” She arched her back. “This feels . . . rather like cheating.”
“What, you earned your aches and pains?’ Sigrun replied, slowly getting back to her feet. “You have shown us the quality of your steel today, Minori. You need not prove anything else.”
Adam curled a hand under Sigrun’s elbow to steady her, his eyes concerned. “Livorus wants us to get together in his room for a debriefing in a couple of hours,” he told Kanmi. “I don’t think he wants us to stay and dig in the rubble. We’re going to catch the local news . . . assuming any of the far-viewer stations are on the air right now. Might as well see how everything’s being covered.”
“Should I be in the room for the briefing?” Minori asked, tentatively.
“You were there,” Adam said, simply. “Yes, you should be.”
Kanmi nodded, and looked over at Minori. “I’ll walk you to your room.”
“We’ve got Praetorians on every entrance and exit of this place,” Adam noted. “Esh, get some sleep at some point, all right?”
“I’ll sleep when we get back to Rome. Or, possibly, when I’m dead. Whichever comes first.” Kanmi stepped out into the hall, and then held the door for Minori.
Minori hesitated outside of her room, as the other sorcerer looked around the hallway, alertly. “Would . . . would you like to come inside?” she offered. He stood relatively close to her, not really in her personal space, but she swore she could feel the heat of his skin. A day’s worth of beard growth, harsh and dark against his jaw line. Hair rumpled, and clothing, too. Blood splatters here and there, particularly along his sleeves, as if he’d been working like a butcher. Then again, weren’t we all?
And as she spoke, she saw his eyes snap back to focus on her, clearly startled. She had a fairly good idea of how his mind operated now, and had seen under several layers of granite-like masks he maintained, at all times. The caring father of his two sons . . . that was an identity that he rarely, if ever, let anyone see. The mocking, sharp-tongued, unrepentant gadfly . . . that one was used to keep everyone around him at a nice, safe distance. Where he could see their eyes and their hands. She’d seen him fight now, too, and the mind behind those perfectly composed, balanced spells, each one mathematically pristine . . . that was remarkable, as was the cold fury with which he faced enemies. Indomitable, really. There was no surrender in him, not even on a subject like the gods themselves. His wife couldn’t understand that, she realized, suddenly. He may have chosen not to fight on this issue or that, but he never surrendered. He’s not capable of it. It must have made him very difficult to live with . . . but it also makes him very much like a samurai. She could understand that. It worked with established norms in her mind. And coupled with that sudden flow of comprehension, was a rush of warmth. She’d come very close to dying today. She’d killed her captor with her own mind and hands. She and Kanmi had stood side-by-side, fighting the impossible. And they’d survived.
A large part of her wanted to celebrate that simple fact. At his startled glance, however, she immediately began to shift back a little. Preparing to recant, to say she hadn’t meant it that way, if his reaction was anything other than agreement.
So she was rather surprised, herself, when he leaned down. Cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her. Soft-rough of lips and facial hair against her skin. Neither of them had yet had a chance to bathe properly. She was dismally aware that she smelled of sweat and pain. All of those uncomfortable realizations however, faded rapidly. He’s really a lot better at this than Calgacus was, she thought, dimly. Asuka was really good at kissing, but then again, we weren’t supposed to . . . . The old memories stirred, and she tried not to stiffen, but Kanmi was already pulling away, one of the usual masks shifting up and over his face. “I’m sorry. Misread you there. It’s just that . . .” He shook his head, clearly irritated, and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “You know how it is, when you get the math just right, and everything adds up, and everything works? You . . . add up, Min.” He shook his head again. “And you can’t stand me. It’s all right. Most days, I can’t stand myself. Get some rest before the meeting—”
Minori tried to get a word in edgewise, failed, and finally leaned up and kissed him, herself. His body had gone rigid, and it evidently took a moment for him to register that she was serious about the kiss. After realization sank in, however, she found herself boosted up into his arms, the door unlocked, and both of them in the room beyond more rapidly than she could have imagined.
She was honestly surprised by his patience after that initial burst of speed. She was all too aware of her hesitancies and fears; she knew that she wasn’t good at this. His whisper of “What do you like?” was met by her head-shake and silence. Rustle of the sheets as he pushed her back against the bed, still kissing. Running his hands along her sides, all the way down, then following another downwards trail with his lips, although she stiffened in reaction as he reached her breasts. “Not something you like?” Surprise in his tone.
“Not . . . not really . . .” How to explain that she’d been fine with it when Asuka had played with her breasts, but that Calgacus had squeezed them like ripe melons, until they hurt, and would never leave them alone?
“Hmm. Interesting.” He worked his way lower, sliding the pants she’d put on . . . gods, yesterday morning . . . out of his way. And then worked her with lips and tongue and fingers, glancing up every now and again to verify that the incantation he was weaving was having its desired effect. And then he added a fine thread of actual magic to the mix, using air itself to brush over her most sensitive places. Creating just a little more friction, a little more pressure. Ebbing and flowing, fast and then slow, in response to the expressions on her face, and her inhalations of pleasure.
Minori clutched at the sheets as he built fire in her, and finally released, like the new star she’d seen in the heavens last night, feeling fluids pulse out of her. But Kanmi wasn’t satisfied yet, insistently building her back up again. And again. Her relaxation, however, gave way to surge of anxiety as he groped, a little blindly, in the nightstand. Almost every hotel in lands controlled by the Roman Empire provided complimentary condoms. Better safe than down with the clap, was the motto usually p
rinted on the sides of the waxed paper packets, and this hotel was no exception. The delay, however, gave Minori time to worry, and when Kanmi turned back to her, he clearly caught the crease between her eyes and the bitten lower lip. “I might be a little rusty,” he said, raising his eyebrows, “but surely it can’t be that bad.”
Minori shook her head, rapidly. So far, he’d given her more pleasure in one night than Calgacus had in six months. She reached out her arms, and smoothed her expression. “I’m not very good at this,” she admitted, her voice small. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t even sure I liked men until about ten minutes ago.”
Kanmi blinked rapidly, absorbing that, and then kissed her again, stealing her words for the moment, and then gently pushed himself into her. Checked on angles, vectors, and velocities. Whispered little jokes about determining trajectory into her ear, making her laugh, and brought her back to the point where the fire overwhelmed her again, before finally finishing, himself.
Stroking her hair out of her face as their bodies cooled, Kanmi finally said, yawning, “There’s nothing I really want to do right now more than sleep . . . but if I do, we’re going to wake up for the debriefing still stinking.”
“You are a master of romance.” She raised her eyes to his for a moment.
“I’m renowned for it, far and wide.” He arched his eyebrows at her. “I know we don’t have a damned thing to change into, since our luggage is down in Cuzco . . . but I could really use a bath. Want to join me? And maybe you might explain a few things, while we’re in there?”
He got a shy smile in response, but when they padded into the bathroom, nothing but air came out of the pipes for a minute or two. Kanmi’s eyebrows went up as the water guttered out at last, brick-red and cold. He was about to incant to clean it up and warm it, but Minori beat him to it, the sediment congealing into a brick that sat at the corner of the tub, so that they could scoop it out and throw it away. And then she warmed the water, chilling the air around them to do it.
The Valkyrie (The Saga of Edda-Earth Book 1) Page 122