Cold Steel

Page 94


“The problem, Catherine, is that if you want a fire, I have to be outdoors away from the hearth. And if you want us to be together indoors, then”—he dumped me on the mattress—“we are going to have to spend most of our time in this bed.”

He braced his body over mine, his arms on either side of me. He lowered himself to brush a kiss over my lips, then pushed back up. The feel of him a hand’s span above me made me wriggle. I had to put my hands all over him before finally pulling him down on top of me so we could kiss. When I was breathless, my heart racing and my body aflame, I broke off.

“What I don’t understand is why you still have clothes on,” he murmured in a voice like honey.

I nipped at the lobe of his ear. Did I have to inform the man of everything I wanted?

He sat up, although he left a hand cupped over my right breast, fingers teasing absentmindedly through the cloth of my bodice in a way that made me squirm. “You can’t be waiting for me to undress you, can you? Perhaps there was something else you wanted to discuss? I had many long conversations in Expedition on the fascinating subject of the properties of heat, whether heat is dynamic or perhaps undulating a little bit like you are now.”

“If you are going to do nothing but taunt me, then I am done speaking to you, Andevai.”

His eyebrows arched. He leaned closer. “Not one more word?”

I lifted my chin defiantly as I pinched my lips together.

His lazy smile was more challenge than sweetness. “We’ll see about that.”

23

Much later, we lay quietly together. For the longest time I luxuriated in the feel of his arms around me. A light fall of snow drifted down outside, flakes dusting along the roof with a hiss.

“Vai?”

“Mmm?” He kissed my neck.

“Our efforts have left me hungry.” I stuck a foot out from under the blankets, and sucked in a breath. “It’s cold out there. You’re such a nuisance, you fire banes.”

Arms tensing, he stopped nuzzling. “I never got used to that name. It always seemed like mockery to me, even when none was meant.”

I really was hungry, but his confession fell so unexpectedly that I thought of how Kofi had seemed to understand Vai in ways I had never glimpsed. “People in Expedition respected you.”

“Because I worked hard and was a good carpenter. Not because I am a cold mage.”

“How did you become such a good carpenter?”

I felt his smile in the tilt of his head against my hair. “My father and uncle were carpenters. They were teaching me the trade. Remember, my magic didn’t bloom until I was sixteen.”

“I thought your father and uncle were hunters.”

“They were also hunters. But a person must have a trade. Before she became ill, my mother was renowned for her basketry. Did I ever tell you that?” He did not wait for my answer. “When things got bad for me in the youth hall at Four Moons House, I started sneaking out to the carpentry barn. The mansa’s uncle let me work there.” He began stroking my belly with a motion similar, I supposed, to that he might delicately use to plane a surface.

“The mansa’s uncle was a carpenter?”

“An architect. He was educated in Camlun and had studied with learned masters across Europa. He said knowing the carpenter’s craft helped him understand how to build. In a mage House, many sons and daughters have no magic, so they serve the House in some other way. Because he was the uncle of the mansa he was willing to defy the mansa by teaching me, since it was seen as lowborn of me to wish to work with my hands. But the work helped me concentrate on my studies. I couldn’t be angry or fighting if I was working with my hands.” His stroking hand clenched.

“How did things get bad for you in the youth hall?”

He pushed to sit. “Can you heat enough water to scald and pluck the grouse? The sooner we can leave here and get away from the ice, the better. Next Hallows’ Night your sire will come after us. I can hide from the Hunt in a troll maze, but you can’t. We must find a way to protect you from him.”

His sudden change of subject forced me to ask a question whose answer I feared. “Did my sire harm you?”

He gave a curt laugh leavened by a self-mocking smile that reassured me that he had not been hurt. “He did an injury to my pride, that is certain. My magic counts for nothing in comparison to the magic he wields as easily as breathing.”

“Yet you had the courage to stab him. Even knowing how strong he is.”

He pulled down the blankets to expose my right shoulder. I had once thought him the pampered, privileged son of a mage House, as highborn as he was arrogant. The callused touch of his fingers, however coaxing and sensual, reminded me that he had been born to a very different life. With kisses, he traced the two seamed scars on my shoulder. “I hurt you instead. How could you know that horrible thing your sire threatened you with?”

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