Wystan

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Wystan Page 11

by Allison Merritt


  “Where’s Sylvie?” he asked.

  Rhia frowned. “You didn’t know? Tell’s giving pony rides out by the livery stable. She’s been there all morning, hanging off a saddle.”

  “Of course he is. He’s an overgrown kid.” Wystan smiled. “She’s in good hands.”

  “I know.” She was glad when the sounds of the festival faded behind them. “May I ask a question?”

  He cocked an eyebrow.

  “Have you ever heard anyone say, ‘One to secure the future, one to guard the present, one to repair the past’?”

  He looked puzzled. “That in one of those books you’re trying to teach to the kids?”

  She shook her head. “No. Meacham said it to me.”

  “The abbeylubber? He hardly talks to anyone.”

  “He didn’t seem happy about it.” That alone was troubling, without the cryptic words attached.

  Wystan frowned. “Some of the folks are…eccentric. Meacham’s no exception. You can’t take much of what he says for it’s worth. I wouldn’t spend too much time thinking about it. The folks here are odd, but harmless.”

  “Do you know that without any doubt?”

  “Tell does. He can spot one going bad quicker than a snake strikes.”

  He seemed sure of it, but Rhia couldn’t help feeling some doubt. Weren’t demons exceptional at being deceptive? It was part of their act.

  “No one in Berner has ever claimed to repent, then gone back to the dark, Rhia. You don’t have anything to worry about. The only dangers here are the minor demons that creep in and getting a bad sunburn.”

  It went unspoken that he expected Astaroth to rise from the Pit any day, but the slight change in his posture and his hand on the hilt of his knife reminded her.

  The schoolhouse loomed in front of them and she smiled at the bright red paint, comforted by the sight of something she could trust. Schools meant schedules and control.

  “I wanted to thank you for helping Eban and Tell with the painting.”

  “It looks like hell,” he grumbled. “Those two no more know what to do with a paintbrush than a cat would know what to do with wings.”

  Rhia laughed. “I expect a cat could figure it out quickly. They’d finally have a way to catch birds without climbing trees.”

  He reached into his shirt pocket for a toothpick, but rolled it between his fingers instead of putting it in his mouth. “You notice how some of the other buildings in town have gotten new coats of paint?”

  “I thought it was for the celebration.”

  He narrowed his eyes and scuffed one boot in the dirt. “Something’s going on. Things are changing. I can’t figure out why.”

  She stared at the mark he’d made. “But you have a guess.”

  “It’s something to do with you. That flower showed up right after we…you know.” He gestured in the fountain’s direction.

  “Kissed, Wystan. It’s not a crime.” Why did everyone keep insisting her arrival here marked some big change? That, she supposed, was the trouble with being the newcomer in town.

  “I hope the town’s not dead set on having an entire garden. That would be a lot of kissing.”

  He laughed softly and Rhia startled. The sound was beautiful, like the deep chime of bells. The air seemed to ring with it.

  “Sounds awful, all that kissing. We’d end up with chapped lips and dry mouth,” she teased. “Perhaps we ought to test it.”

  “Right here?” He looked around as though he expected one of his brothers to appear.

  “Just a little”—she stood on her tiptoes—“peck.” Pressing her lips to his stubble-covered cheek, she breathed in Wystan’s scent. Salty, earthy, intoxicating. Like a scent she’d known long ago and recently found again.

  He grasped her shoulders and lowered his head to hers. Instead of her cheek, he captured her mouth, running his tongue across her lips. She parted them, accepting him inside. A jolt of anticipation shot through her and if the rumors about the single flower at the fountain were true, then they ought to have an entire forest growing in front of the school tomorrow. Wystan wrapped his arm around her waist, hauling her against him.

  The din from the festival dulled into a soft roar like the echo of blood when she pressed a seashell to her ear. Her nipples tightened and desire pooled low in her belly, but he drew back, giving her a moment to catch her breath. Meacham had told her to choose between men, and while Eban might seem the safe choice, no one had ever made her body sing like Wystan.

  He looked down at their feet. “Well, nothing yet.”

  “Maybe it only works at the fountain.” She sounded breathless.

  “Or maybe it’s a bunch of silly people who don’t know what to believe in.” He almost looked disappointed. “I have to make rounds. Remember to get inside before sundown. Tell will probably bring Sylvie back well before.”

  She nodded. “We will.”

  “Afternoon, Rhia.” He tipped his hat and left her standing on the path to the schoolhouse.

  She couldn’t resist looking at the ground again. The only thing standing out of it was the toothpick he’d dropped when she kissed him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rhia opened the schoolhouse door. The yard was empty except for yellowed grass, but any minute she expected students to come down the street. Behind her, Sylvie laid primers on the desks.

  “Are you nervous?”

  Rhia turned and smiled. “A little. This school is much different than at home. Are you?”

  Sylvie frowned. “The kids aren’t like me.”

  “But you’ll make friends. There’s no reason to judge before you meet them. It may not go smoothly today, but we’ll do our best.”

  She tried to take her own advice. If she had trouble with any of them, how would she approach their parents? It was difficult enough when the children and parents were human, but demons? Wystan swore they were reformed, that they wanted normal lives, but if she made them angry, would they try to hurt her?

  The last few days had been peaceful. No reports of barghests or changesteeds. Eban had surprised her one morning by donating chalk and new slates for the students. He was so sweet, and Rhia continued to worry that his attention was something more than friendliness. She shook her head and turned back to the door. No time to worry about the Heckmasters, because Thomas Jefferson Yue was leading two children down the path.

  The boy and girl looked alike. The Wrights, she guessed. They had big eyes and hungry expressions. Her heart jumped into her throat when they approached because it was clear that their feet were backward. They walked as well as Thomas Jefferson, although they bobbed a bit as they did.

  She managed a smile and stepped aside to let the children into the room.

  “Good morning, Miss Duke.” Thomas Jefferson smiled at her. “I’m very pleased to be here.”

  “I’m happy to see you all of you as well. Would you like to find seats?” She gestured at the rows of desks. “This is my sister, Sylvie. She’ll be a student with you. And you must be Howie and Mary.”

  The abarimon children nodded. Mary held up an apple.

  “Mama said to bring you this.”

  Rhia hesitated before taking the shining red fruit. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

  It had a large bruise on one side and she guessed Mary had dropped it on the way. She took it to her desk and displayed it on one corner. Unnatural silence took over the room. Sylvie picked a seat away from the other children and stared at them with wide eyes.

  “Sylvie.”

  Sylvie raised her gaze, but didn’t move. Rhia shook her head and turned back to the door. She’d make her sister move closer before they started class.

  As though they’d appeared on the stoop by magic, a woman and a little girl waited for Rhia to notice them. The woman was dressed in shining red velvet, which elegantl
y draped over her slender frame. Her hair was done up in a coiffure that let inky black curls drip around her face and neck. Her eyes were soft brown and slightly tilted at the corners. She looked exotic and while her daughter’s eyes were light blue, they were no less enchanting.

  “Good morning. I’m Zaïre and this is Mila.”

  The echidnas. Rhia extended her hand, though she felt a little faint as she thought about what they were hiding beneath their skirts.

  “How nice to meet you.”

  Zaïre ignored the gesture. “Mila, go sit next to Mary or the other girl. Behave and learn something for your mama. I will see you this afternoon.”

  She patted her daughter’s dark curls and gave her a nudge toward the desks.

  Rhia tried not to stare as Mila moved deeper into the room. She didn’t walk with the same bounce Sylvie had. It was more of a swaying motion, though Rhia doubted she’d have noticed if she hadn’t known beforehand.

  “If I may have a word, Miss Duke?” Zaïre nodded toward the yard.

  “Of course.” Rhia stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

  “As you surely noticed, Mila isn’t the average child. We come from a proud and beautiful people. We can trace our bloodline back to the days of the gods. Mila prefers studying to physical activities. I do not care for the idea of her getting bruises, cuts or blemishes due to rough games.”

  It was true that Mila was as exotic as her mother. Her long skirt wasn’t plain like Sylvie’s pinafore. The material had probably cost more money than Rhia had seen in a year. It wasn’t difficult to understand why Zaïre didn’t want her daughter running—or slithering—around in the schoolyard.

  “I can see your reasoning, but I don’t want Mila to feel as though she’s not the same as the other children.” After her long lecture to Sylvie about the differences she might see in the others, it was important that they treat the people of Berner the same as anyone else.

  “Mila isn’t like the others. Of course, the Wright children are clearly unusual, and the Yue boy is frighteningly intelligent, and Nancy is a beautiful creature, but she lacks Mila’s grace and breeding. I don’t want her to get too much sun. It will ruin her complexion.”

  Zaïre’s pride in her daughter irritated Rhia, but there was nothing she could do except agree.

  “Very well. Mila may remain inside while the others are out at recess. It was a pleasure meeting you and I’m excited to have the opportunity to teach your daughter.”

  “I felt certain you would understand, Miss Duke.” Zaïre smiled, but it lacked warmth. “You know, I was intrigued when Wystan mentioned he’d hired a teacher. The concerned parents in this town have long petitioned him to find someone to bring knowledge to our children. Then I learned you are human. Frail and quickly forgotten, should your presence here create trouble.”

  Chills ran down Rhia’s spine. “Excuse me?”

  “I feel you understand me well enough. I’ll be around to collect Mila this afternoon. Good luck, Miss Duke.” Zaïre waved her fingers, turned and swayed down the path.

  Rhia swallowed to relieve her dry throat. If that overgrown snake thought her threats were frightening, she was slithering around the wrong chicken coop. She intended to report Zaïre to Wystan after school. He wouldn’t allow one citizen to threaten another.

  The echidna woman nodded at a little girl skipping along the path. Golden hair framed her face and a wide smile created dimples in her cherubic cheeks. Pointed ears stood out between locks of her unruly hair.

  “Miss Duke? I’m Nancy.” Her eyes were a dazzling combination of turquoise and gold. “Is school starting now?”

  Nancy bounced on her toes. Wystan had said Nancy was a sort of fairy. She didn’t have wings, but her beautiful and mysterious looks made her seem otherworldly. Her question displayed the sort of eagerness Rhia had hoped to see on her students’ faces. It didn’t come along every day, but it made her job worthwhile.

  “It is. Let’s go inside, Nancy, and we’ll starting learning.”

  “Make sure you’ve written down the entire assignment. I expect to see your work in the morning.” Rhia watched the children put the finishing touches on their slates. Then they slid out of their desks and waved good-bye. Only Sylvie remained.

  Rhia straightened the books on her desk, waiting until Thomas Jefferson closed the door before she rose.

  “That went well, didn’t it?”

  Sylvie glanced up. “Howie, Mary, and Nancy aren’t very smart.”

  “They haven’t had the same opportunities as you. Thomas Jefferson is lucky because Eban allowed him to borrow books, and Mila’s mother has money, so she can order material for her daughter to study. The Wrights and Nancy’s family may not be able to provide the same opportunities. In any case, they’ll catch up.”

  Sylvie looked skeptical.

  “Start your assignment and I’ll dish out dinner.”

  Rhia turned so Sylvie wouldn’t see how much she hated the idea of having beans again. Three meals a day was a bit excessive. She hadn’t taken the half dollar from Sylvie, despite Wystan’s suggestion. She might as well start a savings fund for her sister.

  There was a rap on the door.

  “Are we expecting company?” Sylvie closed her primer and turned to the door.

  “I don’t think so. Did anyone forget their slate?”

  “No.”

  Rhia crossed the room and opened the door. Eban stood on the stoop, smiling and holding a basket.

  “How was school?”

  “I think it went well. Better than my first day as a new teacher. Some of the students need time to catch up, but by the end of term they should be doing better.” She hoped. If they were still struggling, Wystan might tell her to leave. “It’s nice to see you, but what are you doing here?”

  “I brought supper. I know things are a little difficult right now since Wystan hasn’t paid you a full wage and I thought you might not want to cook after such a long day.” Eban hefted the basket. “All right if I come in?”

  She shouldn’t have been surprised to see him. She’d been turning down offers from him all week, claiming she had too much work to do on her syllabus. Refusing him now would be rude, even if using him for a decent dinner was ruder. “Of course. Sylvie, look who brought us dinner.”

  “Eban! Good, now we don’t have to eat beans again.” Sylvie beamed at the doctor.

  Embarrassed by her sister’s habit of blurting out their misfortune, she stepped aside to let Eban in and then turned to Sylvie. “Go wash up. We won’t start without you.”

  Sylvie huffed, but went out.

  Eban looked around. “You’ve turned this place around. Even when I was a boy, I remember cobwebs and layers of dust. Grime, debris, a few mice.”

  Rhia shivered. “Don’t say that. I don’t like rodents.”

  “I’m teasing, but I’m proud of you for taking on such a chore. Show me to the table and we can get this set up before your hungry sister returns.”

  “Actually, Eban, I was about to feed Sylvie and go to the jail to speak with Wystan.”

  Eban’s smile faded. “Is there a problem?”

  “It’s not something I’m comfortable discussing outside of his office.” She laced her fingers together. “I’m grateful that you stopped by. Perhaps you can mind Sylvie while I go down there?”

  “I…” He sighed. “Yes, I suppose I can. We’ll be sure to save you something.”

  She smiled. “I appreciate it. I’m sure it won’t take long.”

  He nodded and his smile returned. “Can I interest you in a walk when you get back?”

  Walking with Eban. The way courting couples sometimes spent time. Rhia clenched her hands together.

  “It sounds nice. Maybe we’ll have time for that.” She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she didn’t want to encourage them eith
er. “Excuse me. I shouldn’t be long.”

  His expression showed he wanted her and the idea scared the starch out of her. Eban was the sort of man a woman should be flattered to receive attention from, but Rhia was more frightened of courting Eban than Zaïre’s threats.

  She fled, shutting the door behind her a little too hard. Her skirt caught between the door and frame. It took a moment of tugging before she freed the material. For a couple of blocks, she walked slowly, trying to think of a way to refuse Eban’s attention.

  Meacham glared at her from the stoop of the building he seemed to occupy.

  “Good afternoon,” she called, but he didn’t respond.

  His eyes were almost lost in his doughy face. Rhia hurried on. It only took a couple of minutes to reach the jail and she went in without checking through the window to see if the sheriff was inside first.

  “Wystan?”

  He didn’t answer. She walked through the jailhouse into the back, where iron bars formed cages. There were three, but she didn’t think they got much use. Except for Wystan napping, as he was doing now. On his back with his arms tucked under his head and his ankles crossed, he looked more at peace than she’d seen him since right before their kiss. In fact, she hadn’t seen him since that evening.

  Did he think about it? Did he want to do it again? If not for teaching, it might have lingered on her mind until she obsessed over it at all hours.

  His hair fell over his forehead and his mouth was open a fraction. The cot was too short for his hulking frame, but it didn’t seem to bother him. The cell door was open. She stepped inside, approaching quietly.

  “Wystan? Can I have a word?”

  He sat up so fast she didn’t see him move. He reached out and crushed the front of her blouse in a massive fist. With another quick motion, he pulled her within inches of his face. A little yelp left her lips. “What are you doing?”

  His eyes widened and he let go. Rhia stumbled backward until she was outside the bars. Her breath came in short pants and fear coursed through her veins.

  “Jesus, I’m sorry, Rhia. I was dreaming and—what the hell are you doing here?” He rose to his full height, eyes hardening.

 

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