Marked For Magic (13 page)

His apology sounded pitiful. The kind of excuse he might have made when an inexperienced student was inadequate, and it was no recompense for her distress. His discomfort grew. He should know, even with the brew, what he was doing, and until last night, she seemed happy to believe he did. To have broken such innocent trust in him shamed him in a way that little else had ever done.

Her brown eyes remained full of hurt, and she sniffed. She grabbed the blue tunic and fled out of the room. He didn’t follow, but stood, and his stomach griped with hunger. He needed food and cut slice after slice of what remained of the bread.

She didn’t come back until he had spread the butter and honey. He knew from her pale face and red eyes she’d cried, and guilt broke over him again
.
He must find some way to make amends.

The multicolored scarf did not hang around her waist. This was the first day since he had given it to her she had chosen not to wear it. Dressed in his old blue tunic, she looked less than her years, fragile as a spring flower, and far too young for him. He needed to take her mind from last night, and his own, too.

How to do it?

“Shall we sit in the sun to eat?” Each muscle in his body ached, but he took the plate outside, and she followed.

He lowered himself to the soft turf beside the well, glimpsing the white pony tethered to a tree close to the tower. So, that
was
real. He had thought the image of her on a white pony was part of the brew-induced visions. Last night, he had been grateful such a lovely image should replace the horrors before. The memory of such pain and death nibbled at the edges of his conscious mind. The delight of her gleaming like a pearl remained a temptation fit to alleviate it.

This was much harder than he’d ever imagined. Why must he desire her?

True, the nobility of three kingdoms were wedded and bedded at her age, but she was not a noble. He had no right to see her in such a way.

What the red gown revealed had stolen the last of his senses. Today, he would put a stop to it.

The sunlight was too bright.

He had hurt her, and could not set things right without hurting her more. Putting the plate of bread and honey on the grass, he rested, and she took the pony water.

She stroked the pony’s pale sides and whispered to it, her head close to the twitching ears. Her anger simmered below the surface. So hot her distress, the sensation came close to a physical manifestation. The pony, clever and lucky little beast, knew it wasn’t for him. Cassandra must believe Nin worthy of her gift.

Had he so misread the girl’s abilities?

He sighed and wished for yesterday morning, for then he’d have the chance to kiss her again. The need took his hunger. His desire to have her in his arms lured him more than bread. He shoved the thought away. Before any talk with her, he must eat.

The light-headed, dream state still hovered about him, and this concentration on her must be part of it.

“Don’t you want breakfast?” he called over, but she barely glanced back. She did leave the pony and came to sit a little way off with the large plate between them.

He took a slice of the bread and bit into the thick spread butter and honey, savoring the sweetness he needed. His energy levels so low, he couldn’t even think of the glamour to disguise her charms. And what was the point? He knew it wasn’t real and knew the loveliness beneath. To attempt a glamour would be a waste of effort and unlikely to change a thing.

She took a piece of bread and swiveled around, her head turned away from him. At least he could admire the tousled curls down her slender back. Young she might be, but she’d been taught the right lessons to make him suffer from her displeasure.

He finished the slice of bread, his stomach joyful with food inside it. Maybe he’d fasted too long before taking the seeing brew. The mushrooms had been much stronger than he’d anticipated, perhaps due to the season. He would have to experiment further with them.

The bread sat in her hand, scarce touched, and she stared into the distance.

“Sparrow, don’t tell me you don’t like honey? I understand you don’t like me, but not the honey.”

She faced him, eyes narrowed, and the desire to see her smile ripped the day apart.

“You made me afraid in a way I never have been before, not even when they sent me from the village. I thought you were better than everyone else, but you’re not. You’re just as stupid and stubborn and nasty as anyone in the village. I want to go to the castle. I don’t want to stay here with you, not anymore.”

He inched forward, moving the plate so he could edge closer to her. His longing to hold her grew stronger with each word she spoke.

Damn the brew.

“I’m sure you are right. We should have stayed at the castle last night. I was foolish to refuse the lady’s invitation. When I scry again, next time, we will stay for the night. You will be safe when I am”—he sighed—“not in control. I can offer no more. If I use the seeing brew in the future, we will stay at the castle until it has cleared.”

“You promise?” She dropped her bread to the turf. It landed honey side up.

He edged nearer to her. She gazed up to him. A rush of desire swamped everything else. Despite his determination she should only be a pupil, it was yesterday morning all over again. The need to hold her, kiss and caress her, gnawed in a savage demand, and all the turmoil churned with the morning’s healthy dose of guilt. “I promise. I am sorry I am not what you may hope. I am only human.”

She gave a little murmur followed by a sniff, and without thought, he slipped his arm around her. Her sweet fragrance swept over his senses, and he pulled her closer.

This was impossible.

When he stroked her hair, she didn’t pull away. “Sparrow, whatever happens, I will never make you cry again. I swear it.”

The little smile she gave carved a deep gouge through his heart. She could write her name there if she wished.

Her hands slid around the back of his neck, and her mouth, sweet as honey, covered his.

The sun blazed above him, for she had pushed him back, her tongue flickering over his, warm and butterfly soft. Lost in her scent, his earlier noble intentions flew like a soap bubble into the afternoon light.

He stroked her back, down the long length of her silken hair, and cupped her buttocks to pull her closer, tight to him. The need for her swelled and pulsed hot against his robe.

The little gasp she gave as he released her lips took him close to the edge of restraint. He pushed hard up to her.

Tremors ran through her body.

If he didn’t stop now, he’d be between her thighs and nothing would prevent him having her. The earth could shake, the skies shatter, but she would be his.

His breath swift and teeth gritted, he pulled away from her embrace. “No more. I made an oath, Nin. I swore I’d teach you, and this isn’t what you’re meant to be learning.”

“See, you really don’t like me, do you?”

Every ounce of his self-control fought in the effort not to kiss her in the way he longed to, deep and full of the passion only she dragged out of him.

“Sit up and don’t pout. I can’t bear it. Listen, and listen well. I like you very much. I am close to…” He couldn’t go on. The silence and her despondent expression forced him to try. “I want you. But, Nin, this is not the right time for such things. You need to find out who you are, to gain the skills you should have, and become the person you should be. I have sworn you are going be my student. I will teach you to read and write so you are ready for further study, and after Samhain, you will go to Cassandra to delve deeper into the arts.”

She reached for his hand and her eyes watered. If she wept now her tears would break his resolve. He had to stop those tears spilling from where they beaded at the edge of her lashes.

“When the snows have fallen twice, if you will it, I will bring you back here, and if you wish, you—”

“Will be yours.” She finished the sentence for him.

Her tears hovered, and she entranced the soul out of him. The swell of her breasts rose and fell with each deep breath, and he could do nothing to stop his spirit mingling with hers. No logic could impede her command.

“If you wish it, but I want you to have learned enough to make an informed decision.”

“You swear it? If you do, I’ll believe you and I’ll learn swift. I promise.”

He cupped her chin in his hands and gently kissed her enticing lips, smooth and soft they flowed under his.

What had Cassandra said?
If you can’t keep your hands off her… Well, today proved he couldn’t, even though Nin had woken angry and hurt. Would she return to him when the snows had fallen twice? Would he be sane by then? Would she still want him?

He needed to do something, and fast, to dislodge this sensual need between them. “We should use what’s left of the day to make a stable for your pony. Will you help me? What’s his name?”

She smiled, her hand resting warm in his. “Yes, and he’s called Ice because he is white and smooth.”

“Hmm, if you say so. We’ll get a few good-sized logs and build a bit of a lean-to for the summer. I’ll plan a sturdier structure for the winter.”

She nodded.

“Now, eat your bread and honey. Once we have finished breakfast, we will go to work.”

She took another slice, and he ate three more.

When the sun shadows dimmed through the trees at the tail end of the afternoon, their combined efforts meant the lean-to stood ready for her pony. She had remained silent after the first two logs he cut slid perfectly into place. Her refusal to believe he used no magic only made him laugh.

Nin settled Ice inside, having pulled lots of grass for the beast who looked happy enough.

She walked with him to the forest pool to wash off the afternoon’s grime.

He waited for her to go into the water first. She swam a ways off before he stripped and plunged beneath the dark surface. Glad of the cool water for more than one reason, he swam to the deepest part of the pool. Since his work last night, or perhaps because of her kisses, his body remained tense as a bowstring. He eased the muscles in his shoulders.

He would not scry again for a while. Both he and Lord Farel needed time to understand what the visions might mean. He needed to discover the weapon the vision predicted and ought to spend several days in pure meditation and tranquility. Perhaps, after further study, he might find a way to control his desire for his apprentice.

Loud splashes told him she swam, and fast. Tomorrow he would begin working with her as his student. Gods help him, he’d try to keep his desire from interrupting her studies.

“Thabit, I’m getting out.” Her fair head bobbed near the edge, and she waved.

A tortuous moment of need hit him. He longed to get a glimpse of her body, a promise of all he ached for to remember in the summer nights and the dark winter depths.

Ah, this was madness.

He dived beneath the surface and kicked away from the light. His ears hissed and his chest compressed, but he stayed down until he near choked. By the time he swam back to the surface, she would be dressed and temptation well out of the way, or at least, hidden under his old tunic.

Air rushed into his lungs as he broke the surface. The water droplets he shook from his head sparkled in the low beams of sunlight, and he took another huge breath.

She did not stand where he thought to see her. Nothing but the leaves rustling in the sigh of the breeze, and the pliant green grass’s whisper on the bank, disturbed the sunset.

Blood surged through him, and with all the speed he could muster, he swam and hauled himself out. His stomach clenched tight, for there, not far away, the blue tunic still sat folded on the grass.

He donned his robe and boots, and walked swiftly through the clearing. Where was she? His Sparrow would not stroll naked. What had happened? Panic bit into his flesh. He strode over to the bundle of fabric, lifted it to his face, and inhaled her fragrance.

The effort to calm slowed his heartbeat. He sat cross-legged. The tunic warmed against his mouth while he emptied his mind of all but Nin. He should be able to hear her call. Horror froze him solid. If she was unconscious, she could not call.

He closed his eyes, cursed the lack of a seeing brew now, and freed his mind to search for her.

Hoof beats rang loud in his thoughts, and they headed, of all directions, north. He opened his eyes to the peaceful pool. The birds twittered in preparation for night, the low sun glinted on the water, dragonflies hummed above the ripples, and his Sparrow was gone.

A deep powerful rage pounded through him. The sounds in his mind faded, and his thoughts went to the tower. What he needed for the search lay there.

I will find her.

His fingers twitched in anticipation of tearing the man or men apart. If they had harmed her in any way, despite all his oaths, he would make their deaths slower and more tortuous than any horror ever told.

The blue tunic tight in his grasp, he ran through the trees.

Movement jarred Nin awake. She tried to concentrate and still the pain in her head. All her efforts to move failed. Stretched over a saddle, she lay bound like a beast. A trickle of blood ran down into her eye. All she could do was blink it away. Terror flooded through her. The light hurt, the cloth wrapped around her body made her skin itch, and her one upward glimpse to the dust-grimed face above her turned her stomach. She retched, and then came darkness.

* * * *

The bouncing had stopped. She swallowed with a throat dry as wood ash. The stars sparkled bright above her. She craned her head to look about, but it was impossible to move any of her limbs. Flickers from a small fire lit the sparsely wooded place.

By the fire sat the dark-haired man whose face she’d glimpsed. Beside him, another crouched, wrapped in a dark blue cloak. When he twisted, his wide bulk blotted the light from the flames.

The pair ate and talked, only snippets of their words drifted to her.

She attempted to sit, but trussed up inside the itchy cloak, even a maggot-like wriggle proved hard.