Magic Below Paris Complete Series Boxed Set (Books 1 - 8): Trading Into Shadow, Trading Into Darkness, Trading Close to Light, Trading By Firelight, Trading by Shroomlight, plus 3 more

by C. M. Simpson

  “Which one?” Tamlin muttered, shrugging away from her hand and stomping toward the barracks. “The dinner table? Tomorrow, maybe. Or next week. Or how about the week after that?”

  “I’ll talk to him,” Brigitte said. “You two take your time.”

  Marsh stood there, trying to figure out what had just happened. Sure, Tamlin had been angry with her, but the boy was always angry with her. At least lately. It wasn’t as though she’d chosen...

  She let that thought peter out. Of course, she had. She’d chosen them the minute she’d grabbed them in the ambush...just as she’d chosen to leave them behind the minute she’d been asked to serve the caverns.

  “It won’t always be this way,” Roeglin told her and she ducked her head, not wanting him to see the sudden tears that had sprung to her eyes.

  Marsh curled her hands into fists, tightening the muscles across her shoulders and forcing the sadness down. Releasing her fists, she took a breath, shaking out her arms and straightening her shoulders. “I should go and talk to him.”

  “Nope.”

  Marsh looked over her shoulder at him. “I beg your pardon?”

  He folded his arms and looked at her. “You should give him some time to cool down.”

  She turned to face him. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  Now it was Marsh’s turn to cross her arms. “You want to tell me why?”

  Roeglin opened his mouth to answer and then closed it again, blushing all over again.

  Marsh quirked an eyebrow and cocked her head. “Uh-huh.”

  Roeglin took a step toward her and she tensed, her hands going to fists. “Uh-uh. Talk to me.”

  “I...” Roeglin began, then shrugged, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Never mind.”

  He went to stalk past her in much the same way as Tamlin had done, but Marsh reached out and snagged his arm as he went past. “Ro.”

  At the sound of his name, he stopped and slowly turned toward her. In the end, he just said, “Boy will be okay. Okay?”

  She didn’t let go and he looked down at her hand, his face growing still. “Apprentice Leclerc.”

  Marsh tightened her grip. “Not right now, I’m not.”

  How much do you want to bet?

  Since I sat you on your ass the last time we met in here. Marsh paused. I’ve got a good idea. How about we take this round into your skull? What do you think about that?

  She shook his arm and slid into his head before he could react.

  What do you have to say about that?

  I’d say you’re taking this not wanting to be an apprentice thing just one step too far.

  And what happens if I toss you out of your own head? she snarled back, getting ready to do just that.

  Oh no, you don’t. Sulema appeared between them. You’re both busted back to apprentice.

  She hurled Marsh back into her own head and gave Roeglin a quick clip under the ear.

  Both of you have lessons you need to learn.

  Marsh hit the ground on both knees, hearing Roeglin gasp as he did the same.

  “Are you okay?” The question came out in stereo.

  “Yes,” was also said as a duet, and Marsh found herself leaning toward him. He mirrored her action, and their foreheads touched. Both of them tensed, then they just stopped, each resting their head against the other’s.

  For a long moment, neither of them moved. Not even when they heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

  Sulema’s voice was an unwelcome interruption. “Do you know why it’s a bad idea for one lover to train another?”

  Lovers? Marsh reluctantly pulled her head away from Roeglin’s and looked up. Sulema towered over them. See what you started?

  Not my fault.

  And the communication was unceremoniously cut between them.

  “Well, if you’re not lovers, you Deeps well should be,” Sulema muttered. She sounded just a little bit put out.

  Marsh wondered what she was missing because the Grotto leader wasn’t the only one who seemed to think that way...although she was the only one honest enough to say so out loud. Not that Roeglin...

  She snuck a glance at him and caught the sidelong look he slid her way. Slowly, they rose to their feet and turned to face Sulema. She regarded them, her eyes unfathomable as she looked back.

  For a fleeting moment, Marsh got the impression that Sulema peered into her soul, and then it was gone. Her hand brushed Roeglin’s, and his fingertips curled around hers. Some of the tension she felt eased, and Marsh slid her palm against his.

  This time, he curled his hand around hers and leaned, trapping their hands between them. Sulema gave them a small smile. “Now do you know why one lover should not train another?”

  Dutifully, they shook their heads, treating the question as academic rather than personal.

  “Because they lose perspective. It becomes less a master-student relationship and more...tangled.” She studied them both. “You’ll need to keep that in mind.”

  Marsh and Roeglin nodded, neither of them voicing the impossibility of finding another teacher.

  “The pair of you realize I can see what you’re thinking, do you not?”

  As they blushed, her expression softened. “I understand you have no one else and not a lot of time here, but you have to take at least a day to learn more control.”

  She looked at Marsh. “Especially you.”

  Marsh hung her head, and this time, the red coloring her cheeks had nothing to do with Roeglin.

  Sulema took pity on her. “Just remember that the attacks you use in the outside world are just as fatal when you use them inside someone’s head and that tossing someone out of their own mind is like...” She paused as though searching for the right words. “It’s like ripping their soul from their body and then not being able to find it again to put it back.”

  Marsh felt her knees go weak and Roeglin let go of her hand long enough to slide an arm around her waist and stop her falling. He pulled her close, and she turned her head into his chest and heard Sulema move away.

  “I think that’s enough for one day,” Sulema told them, and she sounded unhappy rather than satisfied.

  Marsh listened to her move a few steps more and then stop. “Your breakfasts are getting cold, and the children are going to revolt if you don’t join them soon. I’ll tell them you’re just behind me.”

  And with that she was gone, walking quietly away.

  Marsh leaned into Roeglin’s chest, listening to the sound of the community leader’s footsteps fade. He kept his arms curled around her back and rested his chin on her head. Marsh let the warmth of him seep through the numbness that had settled over her.

  “I nearly killed you.”

  “Again,” he agreed, and she slapped her palm against his chest, glad he couldn’t see her tears.

  “No fair,” she told him, and he gave a shaky laugh.

  “It’s true, though.”

  She slapped him once more but didn’t pull away.

  “You know we can’t stand here forever,” he murmured, pressing his lips against her hair.

  She lifted her head and he drew back, studying her face before brushing her lips with his own. Marsh kissed him briefly in return and then turned in his arms. “We need to get moving.”

  They walked slowly out of the training grounds, Roeglin keeping his arm around her, although whether that was because he wanted to or because she was still unsteady after Sulema’s revelation, she couldn’t be sure. And she didn’t want to think about it either.

  All she wanted to do was to lie down and sleep—and for the day to be different when she woke.

  A shrill squeal of happiness jerked her from her thoughts as they walked through the town square.

  “Dey’re here! Dey’re here! Dey’re here!”

  “Seriously?” Marsh groaned, straightening up.

  Roeglin took his hand off her waist but captured her palm instead. They were still holding hands when they ente
red the room and neither of them missed Aisha’s excited whisper.

  “They’re doing it. See? I told you.”

  Marsh’s face heated but she tightened her grip. It was funny, but she swore she could hear Roeglin smiling. Someone wolf-whistled, and someone else laughed. When they reached the servery, someone shouted.

  “You know you can’t hold hands and your plates, right?”

  Marsh glanced up at Roeglin, and he met her eyes.

  Wanna prove them wrong?

  Well, we are shadow mages.

  They were both smiling as they manipulated jugs of hot kaffee and chocolate over cups, then called tendrils of shadow to coil beneath their plates. With their cups in one hand, they floated their plates in front of the bemused servers to the table where Tamlin and Aisha waited.

  Brigitte just raised an eyebrow, but Tamlin glowered.

  Marsh felt something tug at the shadows holding her plate and didn’t need Roeglin’s sudden Uh-oh to warn her that she wasn’t alone. They both lunged for the table, setting their cups down while keeping firm control of the shadows holding their plates. Neither of them relinquished their grip on the other.

  “Don’t. Make. Me. Come. Over. There,” Marsh said through gritted teeth as she curled her now free hand around the edge of her plate. When she had a firm grip on it, she released the shadow, bearing the weight of her food herself.

  Roeglin managed the same, moving to sit on the same side of the table as Tamlin, while Marsh took her place beside Aisha and Brigitte. There was light applause from the other side of the room, but Tamlin abruptly stood and stalked over to refill his cup.

  “He’s still upset,” Brigitte whispered, and Tamlin leaned against the wall beside the drinks table, defiantly sipping his kaffee.

  “I don’t think he needs any more kaffee,” Roeglin muttered.

  Tamlin’s frown got deeper and he drained the cup, turning to refill it. Brigitte’s eyebrows hit her hairline.

  “Whatever you did, Roeglin, you need to fix it.”

  Marsh finished another mouthful and cleared her throat. “I don’t think this is Roeglin’s fault.”

  Brigitte looked from Roeglin to Tamlin and back, then she ducked her head. “Are you two...”

  They both sat straighter, making negative gestures with their hands.

  “Then why...”

  “Because he thinks I spend too much time with Roeglin and not enough with him and Aysh,” Marsh explained, and Aisha crossed her arms.

  “Dat’s dumb.”

  Unfortunately, her tiny voice carried, and Tamlin almost choked on his kaffee. Aisha looked from him to Marsh and then to Roeglin, and then she slipped from her seat and ducked under the table before Marsh could grab her. Roeglin reached for her, too, but the little girl evaded him and marched across the dining hall.

  It was like watching a tiny thundercloud approaching a mountain.

  A thundercloud followed by an outsized puppy and a very large kitten. All three of them stopped in front of Tamlin.

  “You put dat down,” Aisha ordered.

  He looked at her and then pointed at his kaffee. “This?”

  “Dat.”

  Tamlin raised the cup. “This?”

  “Uh-oh.” Roeglin murmured.

  Aisha answered, “Yup.”

  Tamlin sipped his kaffee...slowly...before lowering his cup to chest height and shaking his head. “No.”

  “Now.”

  “No.”

  “Dis...dis, right now!” Aisha’s voice started to rise, and every head in the dining hall turned toward them.

  “Make—” was as far as Tamlin got.

  Aisha locked eyes with him and then pushed both palms forward together before separating her hands. Three things happened at once: the wall at Tamlin’s back tilted back and then broke apart, moving out from under him. Scruffknuckle raced behind him, and Perdemor lifted up onto his hind legs and put his forepaws on Tamlin’s thighs.

  “Deeps-forsaken, shroom-shagging... Aysh!” Tamlin shouted as he went over.

  Aisha swept her hands back together, bringing a low portion of the wall over the top of him. This she clambered onto and perched on, looking down at his face. “No be mean to Marsh and Roeglin.”

  “Aysh!”

  “Say sorry.”

  “Get off the Deeps-be-damned wall and get it off me.”

  Aisha settled her knees beneath her and looked down at him. “No.”

  There were several quickly muffled bursts of laughter from behind her, but she ignored them. “Sorry.”

  “You will be, you little wretch.”

  Aisha swiveled around on her knees, clearly preparing to depart. “Bad Tams.”

  “Hey!”

  But she ignored him, sliding off the wall and coming down on the cafeteria side.

  “Aisha!”

  “Sorry?”

  “What?”

  “You sorry?”

  “No! No, I Deeps-be-damned-well am not.”

  “Come, Scruffy, Perdemor,” she commanded. “We go now.”

  She turned away, looked around at those in the dining hall, and then pointed back at her brother. “No touch,” she ordered and walked quietly back to her table, where she picked up her hot chocolate and took a quiet sip.

  “Better now?” she asked, turning to Marsh, and the room behind her dissolved into laughter.

  Marsh let it die away before she said, “Why don’t you let your brother up?”

  Aisha pursed her lips and shook her head. “Nope.”

  Brigitte intervened. “Aisha...”

  “Yes, Brij?”

  “Tam—”

  “Nope.”

  They all stared at her and then looked at where Tamlin’s legs were sticking out from under the wall. They were surprisingly still. Marsh frowned, but Aisha sipped her chocolate, unperturbed. When Marsh hadn’t moved for several heartbeats, the child spoke. “Eat.”

  Marsh picked up her shroom crescent, her frown deepening. “You’re awfully bossy this morning.”

  “I’m little,” Aisha told her as though that explained it all, and she set her cup down, tugging on Brigitte’s sleeve. “We train?”

  “Tamlin...” Brigitte began, and Aisha scowled.

  “Marsh talk to Tamlin.”

  Brigitte glanced across the room. Tamlin still hadn’t moved. He also remained ominously silent, and she shifted her gaze to Marsh. “Yes, I suppose she will.”

  “She need to,” the little girl told her, slipping out of her chair as Zeb started choking on his kaffee.

  Marsh looked up. Beside Zeb, Gerry was resting his head on their table, his shoulders shaking as he held his sides. Gustav sat opposite them, amusement and consternation chasing each other across his face.

  You need to fix this, Roeglin murmured, and Marsh rolled her eyes. This was as much his fault as hers! True. I will be fixing it with you. Family, remember?

  His words rang true, and Marsh recalled the conversation they’d had on leaving Dimanche—the one where she’d caught herself thinking of him as family and as needing one to keep him out of trouble.

  Listen to who’s talking.

  As much as she hated to admit it, Marsh thought he might be onto something. After all, Tamlin was hurting, and she’d missed just how much. Once Brigitte and Aisha had carried their plates over to the kitchen and left, she picked up her chocolate and her shroom crescent and strolled over to the hole in the wall.

  “You know they’re going to have to fix that,” was not the greeting she expected from Tamlin.

  “Good morning, Tams. Would you like another kaffee?”

  He glared. “It’s not like I can drink it while I’m down here.”

  Marsh arched her eyebrows and fought to keep her tone even. “Speaking of which...”

  “I’m not sorry.”

  She couldn’t help it. A small smile curved her lips and she sat down on the wall. “I know, but I am.”

  He’d taken a breath to snap at her, but now he stopped.
“You are?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re kinda right.”

  “I know.”

  Marsh wasn’t going to let him get away with that. “And you’re kinda wrong too.”

  “Am not.”

  She took a sip of her chocolate and nodded. “Uh-huh. You are.”

  He frowned. “How?”

  “Well, I have this family...” Marsh began.

  “Too darn right, you do!”

  Marsh ignored him. “But I made a mistake.”

  Tamlin went very still, his face going as pale as a calla trunk and his eyes growing very wide.

  For a heartbeat, Marsh wondered why, and then she realized what she’d said. “No, not you,” she hastened to reassure him. “Never you. Not Aisha either. Deeps, you two have to be one of the best things—and you’re definitely my family.”

  She frowned. “No matter how horrible you are...either of you.”

  Some of the color had returned to his face, and he scowled. “But...”

  Marsh glanced over her shoulder, distracted by the scrape of chairs and the sound of movement. To her relief, Roeglin had remained sitting at the table, even if everyone else was getting up and putting their plates away before heading out the door.

  Show’s over, Roeglin told her. They’re giving you guys some privacy.

  And if Marsh thought it was about the Deeps-damned time, she didn’t say so. She looked back at Tamlin and found him looking back at her.

  “But?” he prompted.

  “But I’m starting to realize you’re not the only ones.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Well, I already knew that!”

  Marsh looked away, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I didn’t.”

  He froze again, staring at her in shock. “You didn’t? How could you possibly miss it? No one else...”

  Marsh held up her hand, knowing her face had turned crimson. “Enough!” she snapped, then forced her voice to more reasonable levels. “Enough. I didn’t, and now I do...and you’re not helping.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Like it’s all my fault. You’re the one who adopted us. There’s more to that than making sure we’re safe and fed, you know.”

  “Really.” Marsh didn’t like the sarcasm she heard, but she didn’t hold back either. “Because, I don’t know, I figured I could just keep you as children forever too. What do you think?”