“I brought a horse,” Jess said, “but Jaime will need to borrow.” She didn’t mention Ander. But Ander had a horse. And Ander had not been hurt by Calandre.
“Jaime can have a horse,” Carey said, though his voice had gone odd. “Jess, you’re not just deciding to do this even if I don’t, are you? You’re deciding to do it without me.”
How was she supposed to answer that one? And why did it make her want to cry?
Jess turned away, closing her eyes and tilting her head back to catch the breeze. Definitely rain. Even in her distress she hoped for it.
“Jess.” Carey moved behind her until she could feel his warmth through her night shift. His hand landed on her shoulder with just the right pressure to reassure instead of spook her. “I’m right. You want to leave me out of this one.”
This time his hurt was palpable.
“No,” she said. “I mean, yes—I mean... I worry!”
“Worry,” he repeated flatly.
“Yes. Because of... since...” She gave up and ended, most fiercely, “I won’t let anything happen to you!”
The sudden silence was very loud, and seemed very long to Jess. She didn’t expect his surprise—or his relief, or even his touch of anger.
“You think I can’t handle it anymore.” He turned her around, although she complied only reluctantly; it was hard to look at his face. At his emotion. “I’ve got news for you, Jess. I’m the one who makes up my mind about what I can and can’t do. Not you. And I’ve already decided to come with you.”
Jess blinked surprise. “You have?” And then, “But... so much riding. For days, Carey. I don’t want to see you hurt!”
His hand fell away from her shoulder. “If I can stand it, then so can you. But it’s my decision. Don’t try to tell me what I can and can’t do—not unless you want to be just like your pal Ander, telling you Lady can’t manage the changespell stone.”
“That makes me mad,” Jess admitted, and then suddenly understood. “I was doing that!” She hesitated. “I didn’t even see it. I only wanted... to protect you.”
Carey sighed. “I know,” he said. “Believe me, I know.”
He moved alongside her, shoulder to shoulder at the window but facing opposite directions. “When something’s so very important... it’s easy to do the wrong thing. It’s hard to think straight when you want so much to do the right thing.”
“Yes,” she murmured, and suddenly realized he was talking about himself. She leaned into his shoulder. “What was your wrong thing?” The smell of rain grew thick on the breeze; the first hesitant droplets pattered against the sill.
He shook his head. “I didn’t give you enough credit, Jess. I tried to protect you from making the wrong decision. I think I just ended up confusing you.”
She thought she knew, then, what he was talking about, and she closed her eyes and thought of thunderstorms instead of the gentle but steady rain now falling outside. She thought of Carey, and all the hot, demanding sensations of an aroused mare in heat.
Jess stepped back until the small of her back pressed up against the window, and slid between Carey and sill. It was a tight squeeze. There, she nibbled his neck, a delicate version of equine flirting. “I remember the thunderstorm,” she whispered.
He groaned softly, a small and frustrated sound. His hands settled on her hips; they tightened a moment, then moved up to tangle in her hair. Gently, he pulled her head back—just enough so he could look into her eyes.
Jess realized she was trembling a little, and wondered when that had started—and felt that tremble resonate through Carey. He took a deep breath, untangling one hand from her hair so his fingers, a little unsteady, were free to brush across her lips.
He kissed her.
He kissed her slow and deep, his hands moving across her shoulders to trace tingling little paths down her back beneath her hair.
She lost track of what she’d been thinking; she was, suddenly, nothing but feeling. The thin shift sliding between them, the bristle of the short hair at his nape and then the tense muscles of his back beneath her hands; the fluttery little thrill traveling up and down her spine and settling lower.
She made a small noise of protest when he broke the kiss—but it was only to return the favor of nibbling at her ear. He kissed his way across her face to reach the other ear, and then he pulled her in close.
“I remember the thunderstorm, too,” he said, his voice low and a little hoarse. “But I think this nice slow rain is going to be much more satisfying.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Twenty-Four
Arlen suspects.
Jaime sat in the biggest chair in Arlen’s quarters, her feet tucked under herself and the small cat in her lap. The heat of the day pressed palpably against the hold from the outside, leaving her grateful for the wizardly equivalent of air conditioning.
She’d be grateful if her mind would make itself up, too.
The very thought of finding herself in Willand’s hands again evoked a visceral fear that she couldn’t do a thing to mitigate.
She called to mind Arlen’s strength and conviction; she thought about the way he’d handled Renia, knowing the mage lure had made her strong enough—if not wise enough—to match his prowess.
She thought of how, an hour or so ago, while sharing tea and chatting about the science of infrastructure magic, he seemed on the brink of asking her something—and had instead made busy with the tea cozy, muttering, “It’s better if I don’t know.”
Oh, yes. Arlen suspected, all right.
A clunking noise drew her from thought. Was that—had someone cried out? She nudged the cat out of her lap and went to pause at the threshold of the study, looking at the workroom door as if it could tell her anything.
There it was again—a cry of strained effort... Natt? Jaime walked slowly to the workroom, her hand raised as though to knock—but no. Arlen knew what he was doing; she knew better than to interrupt. Not during the intense post-tea work session.
And then Kesna’s short scream startled her away from the door—but she didn’t miss the tangled sounds of a stool hitting the floor, or the thump of the body that followed. Jaime pounced, pounded at the door. “Arlen!”
Natt jerked open, white-faced and sweating. Beyond him, Arlen sprawled on the floor. His mouth was slack, and his skin grey, and he moved limply beneath Kesna’s frantic attempts to rouse him.
Jaime pushed past Natt to kneel beside him. “What happened?”
“I’ll try to raise Sherra,” Natt said, still at the door. “I may have to go through the dispatch.”
“It’ll take too long,” Kesna said, fear in her eyes.
“I’ll try,” Natt said, and hurried across the hall to the apprentices’ workroom. “I’ve already called Simney.”
“What happened?” Jaime repeated, resting her hand on Arlen’s chest to feel a rise and fall that was far too shallow. “We have to do something!”
Kesna sparked irritation at her. “There’s nothing you can do. It was magic, and you’re no wizard.”
“Then you do something!” Jaime demanded.
Kesna looked away, closed her eyes and bit her lip. “I don’t know how,” she said, looking very young. “If only Natt can get Sherra here—”
She didn’t have to say what she and Natt had obviously already assumed. Simney, the hold’s healer, would hold no sway over what had happened here.
Jaime took Arlen’s hand; it was very cold, and clammy. “At least we can treat him for shock.” She ran back to pull sheets and blankets from Arlen’s bed, rushing the bundle to the workroom. “Here,” she said, flipping the bedding out to lie flat on the floor. “Roll him onto this—gotta get him off that cold floor.”
Kesna seemed glad enough to let her take charge of such mundane things, and together they got Arlen onto the bedding. Jaime flipped the remainder of the blankets back over him, leaning across him to snug them tight. “What was he doing?”
This time, she got a st
rained answer. “He asked if we would help search that area Dayna was so interested in. He didn’t think the Council tried hard enough, and that together... that if he had us linked... that he might at least find a trace of them.”
“Did he?” Jaime asked, tucking soft wool around Arlen’s shoulder even though it was already tucked, just so she could be doing something. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer to this one.
Kesna nodded, then shook her head. “But they must have felt him. They came after us—and...”
To Jaime’s surprise, the girl’s chin gave a sudden quiver; she realized the apprentice teetered on hysteria. “Stop that!” she snapped, her voice harsher than she’d intended. “Arlen needs you, and you won’t do him a bit of good like that.”
Kesna’s head came up; she glared. “Natt and I couldn’t hold the link,” she said, snapping the words in angry confession. “Whatever they did—whatever Willand did—he took it alone.”
And now Jaime knew.
Decision made.
Idiot. Just look at him. This is what you’re facing.
But Jaime looked down at Arlen—the wizard from another world who’d become such an important part of her life—and she saw yet another friend hurt by Willand’s destructive touch.
She smoothed the blanket over his chest and looked at Kesna. “Enough is enough.”
The young wizard gave her a blank look, but Jaime didn’t need her understanding. She knew what it meant to her. Decisions.
Enough is enough.
~~~~~
Yes. That was the message Jaime sent to Dayna, sticking it in the hold’s queue of messages for the Dispatch just like any other.
The next incoming round brought Dayna’s reply. Wait.
Wait. While Sherra labored over Arlen, bringing him out of shock but unable to rouse him from what Jaime could only call a coma. Just wait. That sounded easy enough, didn’t it?
Then why did Ander repair arrows that were in perfectly good condition? And why did Carey pour obsessively over schedules that had been set for days? And Jess recruited Jaime into helping clean and repair tack, all the while sitting with her hands in saddlesoap and a distracted, dreamy expression on her face.
Jaime had a good idea what that expression was all about, but kept her thoughts, and her smile, to herself. It was the one bright point in the pall that had settled over the hold.
The fourth day after Arlen fell, the tack was cleaned, the schedules were written, and even Ander had to admit there was nothing more to be done with the arrows. Jaime was sitting in the unnaturally quiet and grim atmosphere of the dining room when something tickled at her ears and spread to the back of her throat. She coughed, and suddenly realized she was thinking, I’m here, though it certainly hadn’t been generated by her own mental process.
I’m here! The process repeated itself three more times, just enough to annoy her severely.
Dayna.
Jaime finished her meal and went to find the others. Whether this venture was foolhardy and stupid, or whether it would ultimately be seen as heroic, it was about to start.
~~~~~
“The nice thing about being in charge,” Carey had said when he heard of Dayna’s arrival, “is that I can send people on all sorts of odd jobs right when we want to creep on out of here.”
And he had. While Jess and Jaime shuffled gear in the early hours of the evening, Carey arranged for the stable to be all but abandoned.
Jess would have preferred to stay with him, but everyone agreed it would attract less attention to leave the hold separately. So Jess went up to see Arlen—who had just that afternoon opened his eyes for the first time, although he hadn’t yet spoken.
Sherra looked worn, and couldn’t—or wouldn’t—say anything reassuring about his recovery. Jess found it hard to imagine Arlen not recovering. She knelt by his bed and placed her head on his chest for a few minutes, a wordless good-bye that generated Sherra’s thoughtful and narrow-eyed stare.
And then, while the stable area trickled down into quiet, Jess and Ander took their horses out for exercise. They rode the trails in the woods closest to the hold, not looking for Dayna so much as presenting themselves to be seen for a while.
After they’d ridden in silence a while, Ander said, “I haven’t seen much of you the past few days.”
“I saw you,” Jess said, eyeing the cloudy sky and wondering whether to be worried about rain or grateful for it. “In the stable.”
“I meant after work. I thought you wanted to keep after the changespell thing.”
“You don’t think I can do that,” Jess observed.
But she wasn’t thinking about the changespell and their conflict over it. She was thinking of the time she’d spent with Carey. Exciting and private time, when she finally saw the parts of Carey that had been hidden from her. His playful streak, and the way his eyes looked when he shared the fire he created inside her.
She was learning how much power she had over him—and she liked it.
Ander didn’t seem to notice her drifting thoughts. “I don’t think you—Lady—can do it. But that’s never stopped you from trying something.”
“It stops me from trying this thing with you.” She wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t mean that to sound angry. It’s just a truth.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said suddenly. “I don’t care about the changespell. I was just trying to say I’ve missed you.”
She stroked her horse’s mane, and gave him another truth. “I’ve been with Carey.”
In the cloudy-day gloom beneath the trees, she couldn’t quite make out the look in his eye. After a moment, he said, “I wondered.” And after another moment, he said, “Doesn’t mean I’m giving up, Jess. I expect you know what I mean.”
She might not have, as recently as a couple of months earlier. But Dun Lady’s Jess was nothing if not a quick study, and she well remembered the feel of his arms while the flame roared above them and the water flowed around them. She merely said, “I’m sorry.”
After that, they rode in silence until Dayna’s provocative whistle cut the air—the same whistle construction workers made in Columbus when Jaime took Jess into the city. It came from behind, and they turned to find Dayna standing in the middle of the path.
“Good thing I’m not the enemy,” Dayna said.
“We weren’t looking for the enemy,” Ander said, and sounded cheerful enough that Jess gave him a second look. No, his eyes were still unhappy. This was for Dayna’s sake. “I’ll ride out to the edge of the woods and wait for Carey and Jaime. Do you want to wait here, or—”
“Oh, we’ll come along at Dayna speed,” Dayna said. “And I know it’ll mean traveling after dark, but I think we should keep going once we all meet up—we should be well clear of this area by the time everyone knows we’re all missing.”
Ander gave them a little half-bow and turned his horse, cantering off the other way.
“He’s in an odd mood,” Dayna said, and shrugged. She called over, “C’mon out, Katrie—and bring the horses!”
“Katrie?” Jess said, staring at the tall woman who emerged from the rolling woods. She led a sturdy chestnut with a spiky mane and a small, familiar bay. Fahrvergnügen.
Dayna seemed uncommonly cheerful at her presence. “They sent her out after me when I didn’t come back from my ’short pleasure ride.’ She’s good, so of course she found me. I decided to tell her what I was up to before using magic to send her on her way, and she decided she wanted to help. I figured we could use it.”
“Yes,” Jess said, nodding at the woman as she handed Dayna Fahrvergnügen’s reins. Just because Dayna intended to disable the outlaws’ magic didn’t mean they wouldn’t need other ways to defend themselves.
“So what have they been saying?” Dayna asked, pulling herself awkwardly into the saddle. “About us, I mean. I’m betting they figure Willand got me, or Jenci.”
“Nothing,” Jess said. At Dayna’s surprise, she hesitated, knowing Dayna had
yet to learn of the attack on Arlen, and not knowing how to tell her. “I don’t think they wanted to tell us until they figured out where you went.”
“Well, they’re going to figure it out now,” Dayna said. “Say, Jess, I’ve actually learned to canter on this horse. With her gaits, who couldn’t! Let’s see if we can catch up to Ander.”
Jess doubted that, but there was no point in being too far behind. She turned her Kymmet mare and put her to a canter.
They met Carey and Jaime as dark fell, and spent a few moments sorting out gear—and defining the current situation for Dayna, who took the news about Arlen with grim determination.
And then they rode with intent, putting distance behind them. Carey’s commercial glowstone cast a gentle light to dispel the dark night and its drizzly new offering of rain, and they stopped well into the night, pushing through the woods to find a sheltered area. There they hobbled the horses, huddled beneath blankets, and gnawed on cold, dried pressed fruits and meat—hoping the rain would let up before the thick wool soaked through.
Jess snuggled in close to Carey and felt a lot less dismal than she thought the others looked.
In a few days, perhaps, they would face more than rain, fatigue, and soggy clothes—but for now, she was perfectly willing to put that aside, and watch the gentle rise and fall of Carey’s chest as he slept.
~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jess opened her eyes to find Carey already awake. She rested her face briefly on his upper arm and pushed herself upright —and discovered a host of aches from recent injuries now abused by travel, weather, and a night on the damp ground. The rain had stopped—though she’d decided she could hardly rue its presence. Its gentle patter meant something special to her, now, even if they hadn’t needed it so badly.
But if she was sore...
Jess gave Carey a quick anxious glance. He shrugged and sent back a rueful little grin, acknowledging what he wouldn’t talk about.
Slowly, stiffly, she climbed to her feet, and went to hunt a convenient bush. When she returned, the others were rousing, looking disgruntled and damp and bleary, with hair sticking out at odd angles and sleep-creases on their faces. Jaime and Dayna stumbled off into the woods, and Carey sat against a tree rubbing his face. Every now and then, one of the trees dripped leftover rain—big cold drops that the warm humidity of the morning did nothing to dispel.
The Changespell Saga Page 53
