I flicked an ear at him. Like dust I would.
Kestral narrowed his eyes dangerously.
I flicked the other ear.
“At least turn in to something else,” Kestral growled. “I don’t want anyone seeing me talking to a cat.”
Which was why I should have just stayed human, I thought, glancing around quickly before shifting. Kestral jumped as I scaled his pant leg as a rat, then tucked myself into a belt purse. The neck of the bag was open enough for air, but I couldn’t see much besides Kestral’s arm. I heard a sigh, then bounced around a bit as he walked to the inn. I hooked my claws through the cloth and held on. It was a short walk to the inn, followed by a stop at the stable. Kestral tossed some hay at his carnivorous horse before returning to the inn. He walked up three flights of stairs to the top of the inn, bouncing me in the belt purse with each step. The door clicked shut before the belt purse was unclipped and gently set on the room’s writing desk.
“You really paid money for this room?” I asked, disappointed that my sudden shift didn’t startle Kestral at all. “This is an attic.”
“It’s cheap,” Kestral replied. “Unless you happen to be hiding a stash of gold coins somewhere, it’s the best you’re going to see.”
“Ugh.” Wix didn’t even rent out her attic rooms; they were miserable. Low slanted ceilings, hot in the summer, cold in the winter, all the noise from the lower floors coming up through the floor. I dragged my finger through a layer of dust on the desk. “So . . . you know those other mage hunters?”
Kestral nodded, looking away. “We served in the army together.”
“They called you ‘captain,’” I recalled, taking a seat on the bed. I sneezed. Even the bedclothes were dusty.
Kestral nodded.
“So, you can either answer my questions with satisfactory answers, or I can go see if your old army buddies are more willing to talk.” I leaned forward, setting my chin in my hand. “Your toss.”
“They would mark you as mage-born by your eyes. I doubt the conversation would end well for you.”
I shrugged. “You marked me, but I was able to charm you until those pigoblins attacked. Unless I’m mistaken, your friends are looking for a diversion at The Coop and I can be . . . diverting.” I flashed him a wicked grin. Kestral glared back darkly.
“If I answer your questions, will you stay in the room all night?” Kestral glanced out the window, marking the hour. “Morro and Wen will want to talk to me after the runner finds them.”
“Sure thing.” Dust, no. Wherever Kestral went, I’d be there.
Kestral jumped, his arm jerking as if it had been burned. He glanced down at his left wrist then looked at me. “That’s the first time you’ve actually lied to me.”
“What?” Surprised, I looked at his wrist, too. A mark I had never noticed before glowed hot and red. “Cheater! A liar’s brand? Really?”
Kestral rubbed the mark, glaring at me. “What will it take to keep you from following me?”
“Doesn’t it take a mage to etch a liar’s brand?” I asked, tucking my legs beneath me and folding my arms. “Did you kill him after he etched you?”
“The army had it done. You’re going to follow me no matter what, aren’t you?”
I refused to answer, laying back to stare up at the ceiling instead. Really, a liar’s brand? It was pure luck I had gotten along this far without being caught in a lie. Wix’s fairy-speak must have rubbed off on me. At least I knew about the mark now, so I could keep my answers vague going forward.
Boots crossed the floor and I felt a slight pressure on the bed. Kestral leaned over me, one hand supporting his weight on the bed.
“Reshi.”
A shiver ran through me; it was the first time he had called me by my name. Why was that such a thrill?
“I know these men,” he continued, his voice soft, deadly. “If they figure out who you are, they will kill you without a second thought.”
“Like you tried to do?” I challenged, looking up at him. “I don’t recall a whole lot of second thoughts happening when that crossbow bolt was flying at my face.”
Kestral stood then turned to sit on the edge of the bed. He rested his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor as if trying to work something out. I rolled over, propping myself up on an elbow to watch him.
“You already know I was in the army in Beramin, under Duke Allaran?” Kestral began.
“Yeah, I remember.”
“I was discharged under . . . dishonorable circumstances.”
“Did they catch you in bed with the duke’s daughter?” I laughed; I couldn’t picture anything more absurd.
Kestral glanced back over his shoulder, eyes dark.
“No!” I gasped.
“Close enough, anyway.” Kestral dropped his eyes again. “I turned to mage hunting after. Some of the men who served with me did the same. It’s a blemish on my service and I’d rather you not hear about it from someone else.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. There were dark parts of my past I wasn’t ready to share either, so I couldn’t hold it against him. At the same time, waiting around in an empty room would be boring.
Kestral turned, placing a hand on the bed to do so. “You asked what I was doing, passing through your village. The truth is, I was looking for you. After four years of hunters failing against the mistress’s mage-born, I decided to search for the youngest child, the one with the least amount of known information.”
That new fact sent a completely different thrill through me, but at least I recognized this one—fear.
“I’m not the only hunter trying to find the younger children,” Kestral continued. “Morro and Wen, those other hunters, they’re here because they were closing in on Cera. Once they know she’s dead, they’re likely to start looking for you. I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“Why?” The question was out before I realized I’d asked. There was no good reason for Kestral to protect me. If the story of his dishonorable discharge was true, it would only dishonor him further to be caught harboring me. By the way he kept staying in cheap inns and walking in worn boots, he could use the money my bounty would bring him. Truly, what advantage was there in letting me live?
Kestral met my eyes then looked away. “I promised I’d help you get your vengeance. After that, I don’t know, Reshi. Maybe I’ll kill you.”
He stood, checked his belt pouches and sword, then walked to the door. “There’s food in the travel bags. Stay put if you value your life.”
I was torn. Truly. He had seemed vulnerable for the first time as he talked about his past, which made the request for me to stay put sound sincere. As if he were actually worried about me, not just about my bounty. On the other hand, I could learn a lot more about him and his past if I followed him out to The Coop. And that would be a lot less boring. I fell back on the bed with a sigh.
That liar’s brand dusted me off, but it wasn’t as big a game changer as I had made it out to be. I had spent enough time with Wix to learn all sorts of ways to tell half-truths or distract from the question. The struggle now was to keep answering vaguely without Kestral catching on. I could still follow him tonight and probably tell enough of the truth to hide it, but if he found out after the fact . . .
He’ll never trust you again, a tiny corner of my mind whispered.
I sighed and kicked myself up into a sitting position. I guess I’d just be bored, then. I should have at least asked him to send a washbasin up.
Preening and cat baths only got a body so clean. It would have been nice to take an actual bath. The room did have a full hand basin as well as some soap, though, so I decided to make do. I stripped to the waist, making sure my belt was tight enough to keep my pants from slipping, then used a cloth to lather up, taking the extra time to clean under my nails where I found flecks of either dirt or blood. The soap was a little harsh on my face, but it felt better for the scrubbing. Finally, I untied my hair and dunked it in the water, finger-combin
g soap through it. I had to wash it twice as a surprising amount of sweat and dirt came out on the first wash.
I was patting my hair dry when the lock on the door clicked open. I froze, considering a split-second shift, despite the fact that I wasn’t wearing my cloak. Kestral couldn’t be back this soon, could he? Was someone coming to clean the room? Did I have enough time to shift?
Kestral looked just as surprised to see me as I was to see him. He was carrying a covered bowl in one hand, the room key in the other.
“I thought you would be waiting at The Coop already,” Kestral said, locking the door behind him.
“I was just on my way there now.” I smirked as Kestral’s arm burned at the lie. He glared at me, but it only made me laugh. “Why are you back so soon?”
“I don’t want to see them.” Kestral turned his face away as he spoke. “I can wait outside if you need to finish washing.”
“Nah, I’m done.” I sniffed; something smelled delicious. I stepped closer to him, eyeing the covered bowl. “What is that?”
Kestral thrust the bowl into my hands. “Dinner. I got it in case you hadn’t snuck out.”
I snorted. “Like a reward for staying put? You can’t just keep me like a pet, Kestral.”
“Sorry.” Kestral looked down at the floor. “Can you move? Or put your clothes on?”
“Hm?” Was that a faint blush on Kestral’s cheeks? “Why do you need me to put clothes on?” I sidled a step closer, trying to see his down-turned face better.
Kestral backed up—he actually backed away from me! Like I was the scary one! But then his shoulders tensed, and his hand came to rest on the hilt of his sword. His eyes snapped up to mine, driving me back half a pace. No blush colored his cheeks now. He shoved past me, heading for a chair across the room. He pulled a hand cloth from his pocket, unsheathed his sword and sat down. He began cleaning his blade as I peeked inside the covered bowl.
Large chunks of chicken and diced vegetables dotted a mound of rice covered in a broth. I pulled up the writing desk’s chair and dug in. It was only after several mouthfuls that I remembered Kestral hadn’t bought a single meal at Wix’s inn. Why the sudden splurge? I glanced back at him only to find him staring at me. We looked away at the same time.
An awkward silence suddenly cloaked the room. It should feel awkward all the time, really, but mostly it was . . . well, it was hard to define what it was. We weren’t friends; maybe we could have been, under different circumstances. But I wasn’t exactly his prisoner either. I had plenty of opportunities to leave if I wanted to. Allies? Was that the right word? We were allied against Velyn. Maybe that’s what this slightly-awkward-but-mostly-okay feeling was.
“Did you want a—”
“Thanks for the—”
We started talking at the same time then cut ourselves off. For a long moment, no one spoke. I broke the new silence first. “Sorry. I was just thanking you for dinner.”
Kestral nodded, eyes down on his blade. “I can have a full washbasin brought up, if you want.”
I shrugged. “I’m fine. It felt good to wash some of the road off me.”
Kestral’s eyes flicked up to mine then away again. “I don’t mean to keep you as a pet. I’m trying to keep you from being discovered. Some hunters have more powerful talismans than a liar’s brand.”
“I get that, but you can’t just order me—” A sudden pounding at our door made us both jump.
Kestral was on his feet in an instant, naked sword in hand.
“Captain! Come on out of there!” The pounding continued, along with loud, drunken laughter. “Come on and have a drink!”
“Yeah, come play in the hen house with us,” a second voice chimed in. “We’ll buy the first—Whoa!” The cheap wood along the doorframe splintered and cracked, the door falling in under the drunken pounding it had received. I jumped to my feet, trying to put some distance between me and the fallen door.
“Oh, wow, we’re sorry about that, Captain, we’ll pay . . . Hey, hey, who’s this?” The taller man grinned at me, his eyes roaming over my half-naked body. “You really do like the pretty boys, don’t you, Captain?”
I set my hand on my hip and smiled suggestively. The hunter leered, and I winked, letting one hip drop lazily.
Kestral stormed towards the door, sword glinting. “Get out.” The snarl drove the two men back on their heels.
“Sorry for interrupting. We didn’t know you already had—”
“We didn’t mean for the door to break, honest—”
“Go.” He didn’t raise his voice, but it lost all its humanity, as if he wouldn’t lose any sleep over running both former comrades through with his sword. “Tell the innkeeper about the door on your way out. Don’t come back.”
They scrambled away. I didn’t blame either hunter for being scared. When Kestral spun and pinned me with his ice blue stare, I felt absolutely petrified.
“What was that?” he asked in that deadly soft voice.
“What was what?”
I suppressed a shudder and tried to hold my ground as he took a step towards me. “They thought I was a cockerel, so I played along. A whore is better than a mage, right?”
Kestrel stopped advancing but his eyes were still dark with anger. A muscle ticked in his jaw and I got the impression he wanted an excuse to attack something. I stayed perfectly still, doing my best not to provoke him. It was difficult, because all I really wanted to do was ask what they had meant about Kestral liking pretty boys.
Footsteps pounded on the stairs outside the room and Kestral sheathed his sword. “Either hide or shift or do both.” He turned towards the door.
I swept my cloak up around my shoulders and shifted to my cat form, slinking easily under the bed. Even I understood that now wasn’t the time to stand up to him about being ordered around.
Kestral railed against the innkeeper about using cheap wood for doorjambs while the innkeeper apologized obsequiously. Money eventually exchanged hands, Kestral pocketing some of his own coin back. He agreed to jam the door shut with a chair in exchange for the innkeeper keeping any other guests away. The innkeeper scraped and bowed a bit more before leaving, then Kestral dragged the nearest chair in front of the door and sat back in it, exhaustion clear on his face.
I crept out from under the bed, eyeing Kestral warily. When he didn’t look up, I leapt on to the writing desk without a sound. My dinner still sat on the table, but instead of shifting back to finish it, I pawed the chicken chunks out and ate them. I wanted to be able to make a quick getaway in case Kestral was still angry with me. He finally looked around, noting me on the writing desk. I froze but he merely stood, scratched my ears and returned to the chair where he had been cleaning his sword. I kept an eye on him as I continued eating. Cleaning his blade seemed to be a ritual to him; he appeared to calm with every swipe of cloth over the steel.
I finished eating and leapt from the desk to the bed. Kestral seemed to have fallen into a trance, staring into the clean blade. I mewled at him, calling him back to the real world, instead of whatever battle his mind was waging. Surprisingly, Kestral smiled at me. He set the blade down on a clothes chest within arm’s reach of the bed, then stripped quickly out of his leathers. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to pet me. I arched into his fingers, enjoying the neck and back rub.
“Sorry,” he said, voice soft. “Seeing my old squad . . . it brings back more bad memories than good.”
I purred in response. Kestral sighed. He stretched out on the bed, carefully, so I could move around him. I climbed onto his chest and gently rubbed my head against his jaw. His hand on my shoulders was warm and comforting with just the right amount of pressure. I dropped my shoulder and rolled across his stomach and chest; I felt the chuckle more than heard it, and for some reason that thrilled me. Kestral doused the candle and rolled to his side, tipping me on the bed. I set my back against his chest and fell asleep with his arm over me.
Kestral woke up before me, as usual. I h
ad drawn from him that night, so I was feeling refreshed. Apparently, so was he, what with how quickly he climbed out of bed and began exercising. Just watching him made me sleepy; I crawled into the warm spot he’d left and curled up, half dozing.
I perked up when he pulled his shirt off and washed himself. Water ran in tiny rivulets between the muscles of his chest and stomach. I was envious of the musculature, but not enough to want to exercise before the sun rose. He’d taken his belt off before bed, so his pants rode a little low, giving me glimpses of a tan line. He barely ran a soapy hand through his hair before rinsing it, almost as if hair-washing was an afterthought.
I shifted, nearly choking as my cloak twisted around my neck. I unfastened it, letting it fall to the floor. Mid-stretch and hoping to surprise Kestral, I called out, “I think I left the drying cloth near the writing desk.”
Kestral glanced at me over his shoulder, disappointingly unsurprised. He blinked, his expression staying neutral, but his hand slipped, and he knocked the basin of water and suds over. He scrambled to find the cloth and keep the water from seeping into the floor below.
“What? Did I drool or something?” I pulled myself into a sitting position on the bed, checking to make sure my pants hadn’t slipped down to reveal my right hip. After a relieved breath, I checked my face for blanket creases, drool and eye crusts. Yes, I’m vain, I admit it. It was when my hands reached my hair that I grimaced. “Ugh, I forgot to tie it before shifting. It must look like a rat’s nest.”
I finger-combed my hair, trying to get it to lay flat. Some men could pull off messy hair, I couldn’t. Kestral finished cleaning up the spilled water and dressed, peeking at me from the corner of his eye as if he’d never seen sleep-mussed hair before. While I struggled with my hair, Kestral counted out a coin purse. He didn’t look too happy with the total.
“I’ll go buy supplies in town,” he said finally, tying the purse to his belt. “Stay here and—”
“What supplies?” I asked. “You just bought a lot back in my village and you took all of Cera’s food.”
Sorcerous Rivalry (The Mage-Born Chronicles Book 1) Page 11