"Your aura just flickered when you sighed," Merius said. "You know, I never knew what to make of auras when you talked about them--it seemed so fantastic. I just accepted it because I saw and felt the other things you could do, and I believed you, but I didn’t understand. Now--” He took a step closer, and I stepped back, only to find myself against the wall of the alley. His aura reached toward mine with shimmering tendrils of silver, his soul reaching for my soul. I sighed at the warmth of him, fearing the firestorm of our auras together but wanting him near me.
He braced his hands against the wall on either side of me, not touching me. As long as he didn’t touch me, his aura merely brushed against mine, warm and soft as a purring cat arching into my palm. I closed my eyes and gently rocked Sewell, wondering if we could stay this way forever when Merius's mouth suddenly caught mine in a kiss.
The light exploded around us in iridescent heat waves, so bright that I saw scarlet flashes on the insides of my eyelids when I shut my eyes. Silvery sparks prickled over my skin as Merius‘s lips teased mine apart. He groaned, a man drunk on his first real taste of the spirit encased in my burning flesh. I felt the familiar, hair-raising thrill of his quicksilver touch, except far more strongly than I’d ever felt it before. A thrill so strong that it was almost unbearable. I tried to breathe, willing myself to ignore Merius for a moment. But my will was weak against the onslaught of pleasure radiating from his fingertips. I couldn’t concentrate on anything except the feel of his hands on me, his mouth on mine, rousing me. I wanted him here, now. No matter that we were in an alley for all to see. No matter that it was too soon after Sewell’s birth for me to be with a man. No matter that we would lie on snowy cobbles. No matter that my anger at him still burned hot. No matter . . . I shook myself and opened my eyes. Only my heart remained for him to claim--the rest of me was burned away.
My knees buckled, and I noticed with no small shock that I still had a body, still had knees to buckle. Then I noticed, alarmed, that I still held Sewell. I clutched him to my chest as I collapsed. The sudden movement jerked him awake, and he opened his small mouth in a yell, the sound both near and distant at the same time.
Merius swore and dropped to his knees beside us, reaching for my shoulders. “Safire? What happened? Are you hurt?”
"I'm fine--let go of me. I have to quiet Sewell before someone hears us."
Merius's hands slid off my shoulders, and I broke eye contact with him. I had to quit looking at him for a moment--every time our eyes met, the connection seemed to exacerbate this strange new bond. My spirit felt chafed and raw. I glanced down at Sewell. His mouth trembled, his breath hitching in a low, resigned wail that somehow was worse than the enraged scream that had come before. I slid him back into the sling, already tensed for the onslaught, but his wail lessened to a whimper as I put my hand to his forehead to soothe him with my witch talents. Eventually the whimper trailed off. He even yawned. I pulled my cloak around his sling to keep the cold air off his face. I had to get him back inside. I couldn’t believe I had brought him out here like this—what had I been thinking?
Merius cautiously offered his hand, and I took it just as cautiously. A gentle, warm rain of violet and silver sparks from our entwined auras fell around us, hissing in the snow. I sighed and slowly got to my feet. Then I froze as two men entered the alley, the lantern and arrow insignia of the Midmarch watch on their cloak clasps and exposed sword hilts. The snow muffled their footfalls as they approached, their faces hidden under their hoods. One held a lantern high, shedding a circle of light over us. Merius noticed them then, his hand jerking instinctively toward his sword before he got control of himself.
*Hell. He swore silently. He gave me a narrow look. *Let me do the talking.
*You always do. The mocking thought was out before I could stop it.
His eyes narrowed to slits, flinty sparks between us. Then he glanced back at the men.
“You dropped this,” the watchman on the left said gruffly, holding out the leather bag.
Merius handed me the bag, and I clasped it in one hand, using the gesture as an excuse to glance down. My cloak completely covered Sewell’s sling from the watchmen’s eyes, and I prayed desperately that Sewell stayed asleep. I furtively raised my hand and felt for Sewell’s forehead, picturing his small aura dwindling to a low, steady, bluish flame in my mind, how his aura looked when he slept peacefully. Maybe that would help keep him quiet.
“Thank you, good sir,” Merius said in Sarns.
“What’s your name?” the gruff one asked.
“Childric of Rowan Wood.”
“I’ve never heard of that Cormalen House.”
“It’s not a House--I’m the son of a woodcutter and sometime gamekeeper.”
“Sometime gamekeeper--is that a fancy way to say poacher?”
Merius’s eyes flashed. “My father is an honest man.”
I bit my lip even harder this time, lest a nervous giggle escape me and ruin all.
“Are you all right?” the gruff one turned to me finally.
I gave him a blank look, not trusting myself to say anything.
“What’s the matter? Can’t you speak?”
“She doesn’t understand Sarns very well,” Merius interjected for me.
“Really?” The watchman reached out and touched one red curl that had escaped the confines of my hood. “Cormalen as well, I take it?”
“Yes, she . . .” Merius started.
“Let her speak for herself.” The other watchman finally spoke. His voice was smoother, younger-sounding than his companion’s. “How do you know this man?” he asked me in surprisingly polished Corcin. He must have studied with a language master.
“He’s my brother.”
Merius measured me with a look. *Not the story I planned to tell.
*These guards would never have noticed me without you skulking around.
*What’s gotten into you? Have you swallowed a shrew like your sister? he shot back, his hand tightening on my shoulder. Sewell wiggled in the sling then, and I forced myself to draw a deep breath, to calm down, to ignore Merius and the guards. I concentrated on Sewell's aura, again imagined the orange flame slowly shrinking to a thin blue line around his body.
“Have you gone mute again?” the younger guard asked.
“What?” I looked at him.
“I asked you a question--why are you hiding in an alley this time of evening? Shouldn't you be looking for an inn?”
"I was trying to get away from him."
He flicked his head in Merius’s direction. "Why?"
“He wants to take me back to Cormalen, to our father.”
“You don’t want to go home?”
I shook my head, glanced at the ground as if ashamed.
“Why not?” the guard prodded, flipping back his hood to reveal a round, earnest face with nary a trace of stubble. He looked like an overgrown twelve-year-old who had eaten too many of his mother’s cakes. “You don’t even know Sarns. What is a young woman like you doing so far from her family?”
I just kept shaking my head, tears springing to my eyes. I hated to think of Merius having to fight the younger guard--he seemed nice.
“Look at him when he asks you a question,” the gruff guard exclaimed, suddenly seizing the edge of my hood and flinging it back, exposing my face and hair.
“How dare you touch her?” Merius growled, a wicked edge to his voice. “You touch her again, old man, and you’ll regret it.”
“Ah, a hothead with a fetching redhead for a,” the guard paused, “sister.” He lowered his own hood and eyed me appreciatively--and a little too closely for my liking. “How came you to be so far from your home, my dear?” he asked in Corcin.
I worked up a few more tears, not difficult since my eyes watered from the cold. “I followed a balladeer here,” I trailed off with a pathetic-sounding sniffle. "The first foreign man I ever met--he could sing the birds out of the trees, he could."
“A Sarneth man seduced y
ou?” the young guard demanded, his round face red. “You can’t be more than eighteen.”
"No, no, he never touched me. I just love his singing."
"Is she off kilter?" the younger guard whispered in Sarns to Merius.
"Sometimes." Merius didn't blink as he watched me. Ass.
“I bet he tried to touch her. God, these Cormalen girls ripen young.” The elder guard smirked. He looked me up and down for the umpteenth time, reached out to touch my hair. “She has the sauce to tempt a gentleman. It’s a shame she wastes her favors on a balladeer, when she could lure far higher quarry.”
“A lecherous old goat like you is hardly higher quarry,” I retorted as I snatched my hair from his grasp. “I wouldn’t even keep you in the yard to eat old shoes and dirty sheets. Don’t you dare paw me again.”
All three of them gaped at me for a moment before I realized my error. They had been speaking in Sarns since the 'off kilter' remark, and in the flash of my anger, I had forgotten my subterfuge and answered them. Oh no--all my fine stories of balladeers and relentless brothers gone, blown to smithereens.
“You’re no peasant girl,” the elder watchman snarled. “I knew it.” His gloved hand closed around my arm.
Merius’s sword tip seemingly appeared from nowhere, a sliver of silver against the watchman’s throat. “Let her go.”
“Watch!” the younger watchman yelled. “Watch!” Still clutching the lantern in one hand, he fumbled for the hilt of his sword with the other. Merius barely flicked a glance in his direction, his gaze intent on the elder watchman.
The man let go of my arm and stepped back with a raspy, unpleasant chuckle. “All right, young sir--have it your way for now. We’ll see if you’re so bold when the rest of the watch arrives.”
Visions of Merius trying to fight a dozen men while Sewell and I got dragged off to the queen flitted through my head. I couldn’t believe my stupidity. What made me think I could leave the safety of the convent? All I’d done is jeopardize our lives with my foolish need for solitude. What if Merius got hurt or killed? Tears gathered on my eyelashes, making everything hazy.
*Safire, stop panicking. Merius’s voice broke into my thoughts, commanding, so like Mordric’s voice that I started, my tears frozen. *I need you to pay attention. Can you flee? A picture flashed across my mind of him knocking the younger guard out of the way.
*Yes. I forced my ribs to expand, forced myself to breathe the clean, cold air and exhale it again. I touched Sewell’s forehead again. He was somehow still asleep—at least I had done some good keeping him calm with my witch talents even if I had ruined everything else. Sewell needed me to be calm, to protect him so that these men didn’t see him. Everything besides Sewell suddenly seemed far away. Under my cloak, my arm curled around his small body in the sling.
Merius lunged toward the younger watchman, his movement so quick and sudden that I started in surprise, even though I knew what he was planning. The guard jerked his arms up instinctively, still holding the lantern and his sword. The lantern swayed violently, the light swaying with it, and bits of the alley flashed in and out of shadow. Merius rammed into the guard's middle, the guard’s sword flying from his hand and clattering against the wall. The man grunted and dropped the lantern in the snow bank. The alley plunged into darkness as the lantern flame died with a sizzle.
*Safire, run! My obedient feet bolted, even as my eyes searched the shadows in vain to see what was happening. I barely heard the scuffles and yells over the blood pounding in my ears. I kept to the snow, remembering how I had almost slipped on the ice near the entrance of the alley. Almost there . . . the light from the lanterns on the street touched my skirt, then my boots. Then a hand closed over my shoulder and pulled me back into the shadows.
“Not so fast, my dear.” The gruff watchman chuckled.
I dared not struggle too much, lest I wake Sewell. The alley exploded into silvery light as if a lightning bolt had struck. Merius was suddenly beside me, sword still drawn, his free hand on my arm, his aura crackling all around us. The watchman yelled an unintelligible curse as the silver light surrounded him as well.
“Burns,” he muttered, staring at us. He let go of me, the skin of his hand already red and blistered. “What in God‘s name?”
Merius’s aura shone brighter than day, and I squinted, light stabbing my eyes. Warmth enveloped me, a shimmering blanket that muffled me from the cold. I felt rather than saw the watchman lunge for me. His hand grazed my shoulder, and he cried out. He stumbled back, the hobnails in his boot soles clattering against the icy cobbles.
“It burns my eyes,” he shouted. “You’ve blinded me, you warlock bastard.”
Warlock--he had just called Merius a warlock. How peculiar. My husband was a warlock. I shut my eyes, my arm tight around Sewell. I felt half in a dream, red and purple flashes in strange patterns on the backs of my eyelids. So this was what being blind was like--Merius leading me down a street I couldn’t see, the air rushing in my ears as if we flew. My feet, numb from the cold, barely seemed to touch the ground. According to the watchman, Merius was a warlock, and warlocks surely could fly. I kept my eyes closed. As long as my eyes were closed, the magic stayed with us, and we flew. Flew from the watch, flew from the queen, flew from the world.
The frantic clanging of a bell startled me awake from my fancies. I opened my eyes, only to find myself thrust into a familiar hallway. Everything seemed too close and too far at the same time. The nuns’ faces hovering around me blurred into the flames of the candles they held, all golden and rosy bobbing circles.
“I think she’s very cold,” I heard Merius say, his voice distant. He shut and locked the door, the click of the well-oiled bolts cracking the ice in my ears. Violent shivers shook my body, my very bones trembling. My awareness, which had been flying above us when Merius had dragged me back here, had been hovering in the hall like a wispy spirit, took possession of my mind again. Every sensation sharpened to that unbearable half pain, half pleasure I had felt earlier when Merius had kissed me. Was I cold? I felt chilled, certainly. However, mere cold seemed too convenient an explanation for something that carved me to the very quick of my being. I felt as if I stood on the edge of the eternal, a vast abyss--Merius’s hand on my arm was the only force keeping me from toppling over the edge and falling into the darkness forever. Madness--my talents forced my frail, human brain to sense things that were beyond it. One day I would break and join the legions of mad witches and warlocks prowling the world in search of something solid to cling to, in search of sanity. All the nuns, Merius, even Sewell--their auras overwhelmed me, greens, blues, lavenders, the clean smell of lemons from the nuns, Sewell’s small candle flame of an aura, too warm in my arms suddenly, the searing liquor of Merius on my tongue, his lightning bolt aura tingling in my very blood, all the way to my heart.
“Go away,” I heard myself yell. “Go away before I go mad.”
“Safire, you’re safe--it’s all right,” Merius said, gripping my shoulder. “We’re back at the convent--they’ll not find you here, I promise.”
I leaned against the wall, weak at the onslaught of sensations. I had thought Merius’s aura was overpowering enough outside. Here, contained in the narrow space between these thick walls, the lightning bolts doubled back on themselves, a continuously self-reflecting storm that had nowhere to go and so went on forever. And the storm centered on me. I cried out, and I couldn’t tell if it was a cry of pain or ecstasy.
“Sweetheart, are you hurt?” Merius crouched beside me, which only made matters worse. I wondered dimly if I was going to end this afternoon of self-humiliation in a dead faint, my poor babe trapped forever in my arms.
As if the nuns could read minds, gentle hands reached out and took Sewell. Low voices murmured all around me, about me, a reminder of the night I had first arrived here, hugely pregnant and terrified, with a pouch of Mordric’s gold clutched in my hand. I shut my eyes and put my hands to my face.
“No,” I heard myself sa
y, over and over again. “No, Merius.”
“What seems to be happening here?” the abbess demanded. “You two are a constant disruption.” The smell of vinegar from her aura was strong, so strong that it burned my nose inside. The pinpoint of light racing above me, getting smaller and smaller by the instant, suddenly reversed direction, the point growing to a circle, and then encompassing my whole field of vision as I dared open my eyes. The abbess leaned over me, her hand firm under my chin as she searched my face.
After a silent moment, she waved the other nuns away. “Go back to your prayers,” she told them. “I’ll take care of this. Helanes, see to Sewell--Safire seems ill.”
“Help me, my lady. I don’t know how, but help me.” I focused on her, inhaled the painfully clean vinegar of her aura. It worked better than any smelling salts.
She sighed. “What have you done to yourself?”
“I don’t know. I’m suddenly overwhelmed by everything--too many sensations.”
“Sensations of what?”
“Of auras mostly. Especially,” I glanced at Merius, “especially his.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Where have you two been?” She looked over at Merius.
“Out--Safire took to the streets after our quarrel, and I followed her when I discovered she was missing. We ran into the watch on the way back, but I took care of them.”
“You ‘took care of them?’” The abbess sounded dry, very dry indeed.
“You don’t see them following us now, do you?”
“They better not be. Don’t forget, my first responsibility is to this convent. If you put us in danger with your recklessness . . .”
“My honor would not let me put such a kind benefactress and her charges in danger.” Merius’s tone held his father’s edge.
Tapestry Lion (The Landers Saga Book 2) Page 41