by Amy Keeley
“Razev will wonder where we are,” Zhiv muttered. He paused, then leaned forward. “Good luck with your search, Jyomsa.” She closed her eyes, drinking in the scent of him as he chastely, slowly, pressed his lips against her cheek, lingering in a way that made her glad they weren’t related.
All I have to do, she thought, is turn my head, and lean in. He would kiss her full on the mouth. She knew it. Might even be waiting for her to do just that. And she would enjoy it. She knew that as well. But there would be nothing more between them, as his question had shown. He had no intention of being the kind of man Krysilla wanted. “Where is this cave?”
He got up slowly, and she realized he was trying to hide his exhaustion. “Further ahead.” He reached out a hand and she took it, letting him pull her up. He put an arm around her waist and they slowly made their way toward their temporary shelter.
As they walked, she considered what kind of man this was, who held her closer than any man except her former husband. When she’d first met him, he’d been willing to say anything to get her to do as he wished. Until their talk in her kitchen. She’d turned down his advances, fully aware he was using seduction to get what he really wanted. And what he really wanted, she decided as she watched him, was a tool. But not a mindless one. And that was what confused her.
It would have been much clearer, she decided, if he had been a young man asking for her hand. Then this could be their trial, and she would be working very hard to show him she could indeed use his magic and use it well to support him in his endeavors. And he would be like some of the men she’d seen in the village, who had teased the girls they’d hoped to marry, flirting with them, taking liberties that would have earned them a scolding from the older women if there had been no trial.
Unlike her businesslike deal with Lejer, in other words, it might have been fun. Well, she thought, perhaps someday I’ll meet someone I can speak with as I can with Zhiv and more. “What are we having for supper?”
“The old man offered us some of his. And my brother has some rations he’s willing to share.”
The old man was standing at the cave’s entrance when they arrived. Dressed in patched clothes, she noticed he was without a vest, and his clothes were odd sizes for his frame. Most of his white hair was gone except for a fringe that ran from ear to ear across the back of his head. He watched them approach with a steady gaze that almost seemed amused.
Zhiv took a step away from Krysilla and bowed low to the ground. “Good evening, Lord.”
Krysilla blinked, but followed Zhiv’s lead. She dropped a deep curtsy. “Good evening, Lord.”
The old man bowed in return. “Greetings. Please enter and share my bounty.” He gestured for them to follow him inside.
“I think you neglected to tell me something,” she whispered as they followed the old man.
“What? That he thinks he’s one of the ancient Ornic lords? Shame on me.”
Instead of annoying her, she discovered she had to fight against a smile that threatened to break through, and the intense need to pull him in for a kiss. I’ve gone insane, she decided. That’s what’s happened. He could tell me he’s just deceived a quorum of nobles and I’ll listen rapt until I can’t stand it and I pull him toward me and...forcing those thoughts away, she found it was more difficult than she’d thought.
After supper was done, and everyone had settled in for the night, wrapped up in cloaks and huddled together for warmth, Krysilla lay on the outside of the group, staring at the stars outside the cave.
There was nothing to hold back her thoughts now. Nitty and Tira were asleep by Daegan, sharing a blanket to give him extra warmth, the bottle of medicine nearby so that Nitty could easily give him a dose in the middle of the night if need be. Zhiv had dozed off by his brother, Razev, and the one called Kirag, both of whom were awake, but said nothing. Hyaji was the one exception. Though he was asleep, he had moved slightly away from the main group. From where she was, she could see him, could watch his face as he struggled with whatever dreams his life had brought him.
She stared at the stars and let her thoughts wander. Tonight, they had eaten, but what about tomorrow? How would Lord Mirilisin view their small tribe? Was he someone to be trusted?
Was Zhiv someone to be trusted?
She heard someone get up and opened her eyes to see Zhiv settling down next to her. He looked pale.
“Nightmares?” she asked softly.
He shook his head. “The ‘shard’ never gives me trouble when I have a fever.”
She touched his hand. “You feel all right to me.”
“That’s because you have one, too.” His smile was faint. With a motion that felt as natural as if he truly were family, and yet as intimate as if he were much closer, he took his hand in hers. He closed his eyes.
Lowering her voice to a whisper, she decided to think as she spoke. “I swore an oath to you and Hon Jixsin because I wasn’t sure what I believed. I only knew what I felt. And what I wanted. And I liked you. I think I’ve liked you ever since those days in the meadow.”
“But—”
She took a deep breath. “I meant what I said. I want to protect those I love. If you hadn’t learned spells beyond those of a minstrel, who would have stopped the King, or gotten us away from Lord Teranasin? Not to mention that door wasn’t in any of the spells Lejer taught me. I was useful, and doing something I’ve discovered I love.”
She was very aware of the feel of his hand around hers, of the pleasure of touching him. Already, she wasn’t pulling away as she should. Given time, how much closer would they get?
“But now that I’ve touched Ornic magic, I’ve found myself wondering, did I enjoy picking locks because it really is a talent? Or because it was forbidden?”
The same, she knew, could be said about her feelings for Zhiv. Still, she didn’t pull her hand away. “What is your goal?” she asked him. “What are you trying to accomplish? Do you really want to only protect those around you? Or is there something else you’re trying do and please don’t tell me this is another secret I’ll have to wait for because this is something I must know. What are you trying to do?”
He watched her for a moment, then moved closer to her, close enough that anyone watching them would think they were lovers. And yet, he still only touched her hand.
“You already know.”
The spell the Dog had left in him. The massacre. His need for revenge. And yet, she knew it wasn’t darkness that drove him.
He hesitated. “I can no more deny that magic than I can deny my heritage. These aren’t forbidden spells I happened across at a market. I grew up with them. Denying them, forgetting them, I might as well forget who I am, who my parents were, or their parents. They are mine by right. By birth and blood and sky. And each time I pass along that knowledge, or teach my nephews another Ornic word, or when I see you learning the same spells I learned as a child, it makes me feel as if the world has started to come right again. No law is going to keep me from that.”
They tried to burn the world, she wanted to say, but the words she had been taught from her childhood faded away as she looked in Zhiv’s eyes. His parents hadn’t tried to burn anything. As far as she could tell, there was no reason for their deaths except that they happened to be descended from those who made a treaty with the King. And they lived by that treaty. No, Zhiv’s parents hadn’t tried to burn the world. His sister hadn’t. And Zhiv had even tried to save it.
Worst of all, in this moment, hearing him speak, she felt she had seen into a part of his soul he never shared with anyone. And that warmed her better than any comfortable bed. If I stay any longer, she thought, I could easily spend the rest of my life near him, never getting any closer to that little house with someone who loves me.
“Tomorrow,” he said, pulling her hand against his chest, “we’ll go to Lord Marilisin. There’s no sense in worrying about anything beyond that. Tomorrow, Jyomsa. Tomorrow, I’ll get you a sash made of fine white linen, with a black bor
der, and everyone will take pity on your because you’re so young to have lost your husband. Worse yet, you’ve had to rely on a shiftless minstrel for support.”
“What of Daegan and Hyaji?”
“Oh, I’m sure the Disciple will keep his distance, your use of personal names notwithstanding. And Daegan is Daegan. Plus, I think he’s become a little protective of your sister.”
Her smile was soft. “And she of him.”
But Zhiv didn’t answer. It took a moment for Krysilla to realize he’d fallen asleep. I wondered about this once, she thought. Back when he was in the spare room upstairs and I watched him sleep. She reached out, about to run her fingers through his unruly hair, then stopped, and brought her hand back to her chest.
It made more sense now why he thought so little of regulated magic. And she thought of the way he had stopped to help Nitty, of his concern for Daegan, and his grief over losing his sister. Most of all, she remembered how he had come back to help them. He hadn’t abandoned them, when it could have been a simple enough matter. And one man moves faster than a group, no matter how small.
She knew what tomorrow would bring. It didn’t take intelligence like Zhiv’s to predict it. The family she’d thought she’d joined was about to break up. In the morning, they would give their account to the lord and once that was done, they would each go their separate ways. Nitty and Tira might go with Daegan, if he wanted them. Hyaji would either return to Hurush or find a place to preach here.
So she treasured this moment as well. I think, she decided, looking at him in the starlight, that you’re a good man. Or at least, a man who’s trying to be good, if that meant anything. In the morning, this would be gone and soon enough she would go her own way, as she’d intended in the beginning. Though, perhaps with an Ornic text or two, if he’d let her have them. She’d get a small cottage, and find someone to share it with, and quietly perform whatever magic she liked. The thought made her happy, and she smiled, closing her eyes.
She drifted off to sleep, her hand still enfolded in Zhiv’s, and dreamed of a wide-open sky.
Across from her Hyaji watched the two. And glared.
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If you liked The Baker's Wife, you may also like these other ebooks from Amy Keeley:
Shining Armor
Nicholas is a disillusioned dragon trying to forget his past. Annie is a frustrated human, unaware of the dragonblood that runs through her veins. One deal ties them together. But ignorance only lasts so long, and the past, now bent on revenge, is not easily put aside. Soon, Nicholas and Annie must decide what is truly worth keeping, what is worth their greatest sacrifice, because if they don't, they'll lose everything, including each other.
A unique twist on the shapeshifter dragon genre, Shining Armor is the first book in the contemporary fantasy series, The Will of the Unknown.
Soda Pop Dragon Charm (short story)
ZODIAC CHARMS ON SALE!
What happens when a desperate woman buys a magical charm that's supposed to help her get a promotion? Chaos and disappointment. But is the charm the problem?
Soda Pop Dragon Charm is a lighthearted short story about the dreams we try to ignore and the ones that refuse to leave.
Master of Roads
An oath-bound princess in a world governed by gods and goddesses, must pay the price demanded by the god of death, or face marriage to one of two savage princes, desperate to own her.
(Also, this ebook, The Baker’s Wife, is available in serial form at most major retailers, including Smashwords. A complete listing can be found, along with links and pics, at http://amykeeley.wordpress.com/stories/.)
About the Author
Amy Keeley loves both speculative fiction and romance. Sometimes she writes one, sometimes the other, but her goal is to combine both. She lives in North Texas with her husband and children. Also, she has a blog where she writes about all kinds of stuff, but especially stories she’s working on, self-publishing, and general thoughts about writing. If you want to take a look, it can be found at http://amykeeley.wordpress.com/.