by Jean Johnson
"Third is keeping the rest of us alive, and fourth—but not least—is stopping these men and punishing them for the crimes they have committed since leaving the Plains." He smiled wryly at her. "It may make me sneeze, but that hair-knotting trick of yours is quite clever. Not quite as easily visible to everyone as a Truth Stone would be, but clever all the same."
"I don't know how to make a Truth Stone," Solyn admitted. "I know there are a couple of different ways, but I don't know the actual steps involved."
"Well, the people I came here with have one, so between the two of you, it's a start on helping us uncover the truth," Kenyen said. He shook his head. "I'm just not sure how to tell them what's been happening here. I'm constantly watched by the other shifters, and if you went anywhere outside your normal routine, I'm sure they'd think that was suspicious, the same way they thought Traver's leaving the caravan was suspicious. Particularly since I'm supposed to be seducing you."
That lifted her head from his shoulder. "Well, I don't have to leave the valley to send a message, you know."
"They might be watching for any messages being sent with another person, just like they were watching for someone like Traver to leave," Kenyen reminded her. He loosened his grip a little as she shook her head and sat up again.
"No, no, I mean if I or someone I'm working with personally knows someone else, I can send a spell-based message to that person. We couldn't do that because neither of us actually knew anyone from the Shifting Plains, so that's why he tried to go in person. I don't know why he left the caravan early, though," Solyn added. "Maybe something about one of the others frightened him?"
"Probably Zellan," Kenyen muttered grimly. "Traver hasn't been in a position to say in detail what made him break away early, nor can I ask him." He eyed Solyn. "This spell of yours, if I know the person, you can get the message to them? How does that work?"
"Well, first I enchant the paper, then you write the message you want while keeping a solid image of the person in your thoughts—I do some further chanting while you do that—and then I fold the paper into a bird shape. You write the person's name on each of its wings, and you should have a general idea of where the bird is... er, I mean, the person," she corrected herself, blushing at the gaff. "Well, that is, presuming you can write."
"I can," Kenyen confirmed. "Every Shifterai child is expected to learn how to read and write. We may be nomadic spring through fall, but we are civilized."
Solyn nodded, relieved. "Good. Not everyone bothers to teach their children, here in the mountains, but my parents insisted my siblings and I learn. Which turned out to be a good thing, when I discovered I had magic to spare. Anyway, once you've labeled its wings, I write the final rune on its head, and the paper bird flies off. Barring heavy rain or winds, it should reach its target about as fast as a regular bird can fly, only it doesn't have to stop to rest. But you have to know within an hour's travel of where the person will be, or the paper bird gets lost."
Kenyen didn't like the sound of that. He was fairly sure there would be enough shifters hanging around the town of Teshal, but weather was unpredictable. Particularly in the mountains, when it couldn't be seen approaching, as it could down on the Plains. Predicting the movements of his fellow shifters was slightly more certain than whether or not it would rain. He gave it a moment of thought, then offered, "... What about writing several letters? And sending them to several different people? That way at least one of them has a chance of getting through."
She nodded quickly. "That's a very good idea. We can write half a dozen letters without exhausting me, I think. But I don't have paper down here. Well, not the right kind. There's the paper in the ledger for keeping track of the cheeses," Solyn admitted, lifting her chin at an alcove farther back along the winding tunnel, "but it's too thick for easy folding."
"Then we'll just have to do it when we have the materials and the time," Kenyen reassured her. "Being able to send messages to the others is a big relief, but we don't dare let down our guard in the meantime. I need to keep pretending to be Traver Ys Ten, and you need to treat me like I'm Traver Ys Ten—after all, if you believe I'm the real one, your parents will believe it. His family is still giving me the occasional odd look for my differences, but the Mongrels don't care about Traver's family. The important thing is to make your family believe."
"I know. I also need to treat you like you're truly my betrothed. We still have the problem of Tarquin to overcome," Solyn reminded him. "You said they wanted you to worm your way into my family's trust. That means acting like a betrothed... except Traver and I have never really felt that way about each other."
"True, but we're expected to put on a show—or rather, I'm expected," Kenyen amended. He sighed again, rubbing his forehead with the hand not hooked around her waist. "My brother is better at laying long-term plans than I am, I'll admit... I tend to react with the flow of things, go with my instincts instead of my thoughts in the thick of battle. I do more of the thinking afterward, which isn't always the best time for it." Lowering his hand, he looked at Solyn, giving her a lopsided smile. "But this time, we can lay our plans in advance, right?"
Solyn nodded in sympathy. "I have trouble under pressure, too. That's how I ended up 'betrothed' to Traver in the first place. I wasn't expecting Tarquin to be so heavy-handed in approaching me like that." She snorted at the thought. "Ha! As if I'd be interested in him... He flirts with anything in a skirt, but doesn't actually care for any of the girls in the valley. Some of us are smart enough to realize it, but the rest just see his handsome face and think of his father being one of the wealthiest men in the Nespah Valley. They think about him inheriting the wealth of Tunric's silver and copper mines, and that's all they care to know or see."
"Well, then we'll just have to put on a show of you discovering just what a great lover Traver is. So to speak," Kenyen amended, clearing his throat. "I mean, I don't want to push you into anything you're not comfortable with, and I am a near-stranger... but it'll have to be done where the other shifters can see it happening, so they think that progress is being made while we wait for those paper birds to fly to their targets."
"Yes, it does have to be done in public for it to be convincing," Solyn agreed. Blushing a little, she added in warning, "But if we go too far in the act of pretending that you're seducing me, Father will have a fit and insist that you marry me."
"Your father? My father would insist on it, and he's not even here!" Kenyen snorted. "What's done in private with an outlander woman is something strictly between the two in question. Only they and the Gods will ever know. But what's done in public is an entirely different matter. The problem is, we are strangers. I don't feel comfortable courting you when I hardly know you. I do like everything I've learned so far, but..."
He trailed off. Solyn nodded in understanding. A stray thought curled up the corner of her mouth. "I'll bet you like everything but the sneezing part."
That made him chuckle. Squeezing her with his left arm, Kenyen rested his head against hers. "You'd be right, though it's tolerable enough, I suppose. I also like your sense of humor."
Her cheeks turned pink at the compliment. "Thank you. I like yours, too."
"Thank you," he murmured. A stray thought crossed his mind. "Solyn..."
"What?" she asked, tilting her head enough to glance at him.
"What if, instead of trying to court you like Traver would—relying on past memories and such, which I can't fake accurately enough to fool everyone around us—what if instead," he offered, "we just courted in the moment? Speaking nothing of the past, but instead talk about everything right now, and thinking about things for the future? That I can do easily enough, and still pretend to be Traver. The future isn't set in stone, and a man can always change his mind about his wishes and dreams."
She nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "That could work... Particularly if I let it slip that you've decided either your past memories will come back or they won't, so you're just going to get on with your life
instead of trying to wait for them."
"I think we should also lay contingency plans for a reason to cover our tracks, should we have to run away," he offered. "Like say how disappointed I am that I didn't actually get to go with the caravan, and how excited I was to be traveling, and how much I'd like to give it a second try, only this time with you. Maybe you could say something similar, too—like how you'd want to go to the capital to get more training as a Healer than what your mother alone can provide."
"That could work. It's close enough to the truth—mage magics instead of healing magics—that I wouldn't have to pretend so much," she returned. Then chuckled. "I suppose I could also say I'd like to go along with you to make sure you don't fall off your mount and hit your head again. Traver and I have been pulling each other out of trouble ever since we were little, you know."
He grinned. "And I'll bet you were pulling each other into just as much trouble, too."
Solyn grinned back. "More, actually. We just pulled each other out whenever we were in danger of getting caught!"
They both laughed at that. When their laughter died down, Solyn found herself drawn to him. Before she could chicken out, she dared herself to press her lips to his, wanting another taste of his kiss. He pulled back for a moment, blinked, then relaxed and leaned in again, kissing her back.
She's not a Shifterai maiden, and she clearly wants this. She started it, Kenyen reminded his startled instincts, brushing his mouth against hers. You've done this before with a couple of other outlander women. If she's willing, it's perfectly alright... mmm, and she tastes so good, too...
To Solyn's delight, he was still a good kisser. A single day hadn't changed that fact. Nor had the sight of his true face; if anything, it added to the spice, since she didn't have to fight that voice in the back of her head crying, But this is Traver! I've never felt that way about him! Instead, the voice murmured, This is definitely not Traver... and I like it!
The thought made her giggle. She parted her lips, maybe to comment, maybe just to breathe. He took advantage of her offering, running his tongue along her upper lip before tilting his head and delving in for a deeper, more sensual kiss. Shivering in pleasure, Solyn clung to shoulders that were a little narrower, but definitely more muscular. All she could think of was how good this felt, sitting here with Kenyen's arms around her, his body warming her in the cool depths of the cheese cave, his mouth teaching hers that there was more to kissing than a few quick pecks or a bit of pressure.
This was wrong, yet right; Kenyen kept feeling like he was doing something naughty, since he wanted to respect Solyn like any maiden of the Plains. But she wasn't, and this by her own customs was alright. With her permission to kiss her, deeply and thoroughly, he was free to enjoy it while still respecting her by her own ways. Yet it still felt wicked. Thrilling. Arousing, even.
She shifted closer on his thigh, making him very aware of her curves. She smelled sweet and lovely, distinct among all the other odors in the cave. Womanly. Willing. Kenyen let his instincts take over, immersing himself in the taste and the touch and the scent of her. Only when her shudders turned to a stiffened sort of shock did he realize his free hand was gently kneading her breast through her tunic. Blushing, he pulled back.
"Um... sorry. For getting carried away," he apologized gruffly, embarrassed at his forwardness.
Solyn found herself blushing. "N-no, that's... um... I liked it. I just wasn't expecting it. To like it so much." Her blush deepened, and she covered her face with her left hand. "Oh, Goddess, I sound like Traver would... not that he's a total idiot, it's just... I'm babbling, aren't I?"
Chuckling, Kenyen hugged her with his left arm. "Actually, I'm surprised I'm not babbling, in the face of all this."
"It helps that you're not a murderous shapeshifter out to destroy my family," she muttered. One of the nearby lanterns hissed and guttered, sending shadows flicking all over the shelf-lined tunnel. Solyn straightened, relieved that he let her sit up. "It's getting late. We need to get the cart back up to the house."
"Right. I have chores first thing in the morning, and then I'm supposed to come back here with you. Up you go." Letting her stand, Kenyen remained seated on the stool. Digging out the mirror from his pouch, he studied his face in the dancing glow of the lanterns. He was fairly confident he could shape Traver's face well enough without it, but he wanted to get it right. Stretching his body, he shrank some things, enlarged others, and altered his hair so that the color was a lighter shade of brown and the bits not caught up in the braid at the top were curly rather than straight.
Fascinated, if disturbed, Solyn watched him transform once more. She pointed at one of his eyebrows. "That brow is a little off. It's supposed to be a little thinner right there in the middle of that one, and the hairs are a little more scattered toward the end... There, that's close enough."
"Thanks." Clearing his throat, Kenyen shifted that, too. He offered her a sheepish smile, and spoke with Traver's lighter voice. "I think I feel uncomfortable now, wearing this when I know you know otherwise."
She smirked. "Good. Use it to act awkward. Or at least less graceful. Come on, let's finish cleaning up and readying things for tomorrow."
"So, did you twine with her yet?"
Kenyen slanted a look at Tarquin Tun Nev. Having finished his morning chores early, Traver's father had sent him on the task of gathering deadfall from the semi-wild woods at the bottom of the valley. A quick check showed they were more or less alone, but Kenyen didn't take any chances. His ring didn't let him know about such things. Which was a good thing in retrospect; he couldn't imagine it squeezing or sliding on his...
"Well? Is she any good?" Tarquin asked again, smirking.
"She let slip how many times she's turned you down," Kenyen countered calmly, stooping to pick up more twigs and toss them in the barrow cart. "She also implied how she wouldn't touch you even if you offered her your weight in gold." A glance showed the other man reddening. "So does it really matter how good she is?"
For a moment, Tarquin looked angry. Then a sly expression crept onto his face. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You know... if I shifted shape to some stranger's face... I could find out. And then you could have fun 'comforting' the leftovers."
Bits of twigs flung out and down. Before most of them could hit the ground, Tarquin's back thumped into the nearest tree, thrust there by Kenyen. He choked and grabbed at the hand pressing his throat into the bark. Pressing, but not crushing. Kenyen kept most of his weight braced on the palm he had slammed into the trunk beside the other man's head.
Leaning in close, he growled in the other shifter's ear. "My prey. You don't steal honey from a bear, you don't take a kill from a tiger, and you don't touch my prey." He paused, mind racing, then added quietly. "... Not unless you offer me something much, much better. Like you."
Shifting his tongue broader and longer than normal, Kenyen slowly licked the other young man from chin to temple. Tarquin squirmed, gagging in disgust. Letting him go, Kenyen reshaped his tongue back to normal and licked his lips. He kept his gaze flat but quirked up the corner of his mouth in what he hoped was an unsettling half smile.
"Gods! You're sick!" Tarquin scrubbed at his cheek with the edge of his short sleeve.
"And you're an idiot. Which is more important, you forcing yourself on a single woman—when there are a hundred in this valley for you to choose from—or you ruining what your own elders have specifically ordered me to do?"
Tarquin wrinkled his nose. "You're acting like you couldn't use the old 'comforting the victim' routine to worm your way deeper into the family!"
Kenyen thumped the pad of his forefinger against the other shifter's head, right where Tarquin's Banished scar would be located, had he been an exiled criminal like his so-called father. Tarquin staggered back and scowled. Kenyen didn't let him speak.
"Think, you spawning defect," he ordered roughly, finger-thumping again until the other young man dodged the third time. "If you do that, her
family will focus on it, and they won't let down their guard! They'll be worried your attack is somehow linked to whatever precious secret the others want, and they'll clamp up tighter than a dog guarding its first fresh meal in weeks! The best way to worm the secret out of them is to get them to relax, and that means letting me do my work. Preferably unfettered by any idiocy on your part.
"Besides, if you could do it, you've have wedded and bedded the girl, and dug up the secret by now," he added, giving Tarquin a dismissive, scornful look. "But you're so wrapped up in pursuing your own pleasures, you've hobbled yourself with shortsightedness. You don't have the discipline to go after bigger game. You can go after all the rabbits and sheep you want. I'm after a fat cow."
He meant it purely in hunting terms, but Tarquin threw back his head and laughed at Kenyen's word choice. "Ha! And you say I'm the spawning defect? Make sure you do succeed. Should you fail, when I go to comfort her, I'm telling her you called her a fat cow!" Still chuckling, he headed off through the woods, the tension between them thoroughly spoiled. "Good luck, 'Traver.' With seductive skills that smooth, you'll need it."
Aware that his time was shrinking, Kenyen returned to gathering fallen wood and tossing it in the cart. Rice and wheat stalks would be used later in the year to heat the homes of these Corredai folk, twisted into makeshift logs in styles similar to what the Shifterai did with dried grass from the Plains. The fallen limbs were still needed though, along with whatever else could be scavenged in the time he had left before he was supposed to meet Solyn.