The Chocolatier's Wife (38 page)

He
spoke
low
and she
leaned
closer,
bending
her
head,
which
exposed her
ear
and
the
back
of
her
neck.
It
made
him
feel
as
if
he
were
dropping
the words
directly
into
her
ear, and oddly
intimate
in
the
middle
of
a
crowded street.

“I
guessed that from
what you said yesterday.”

“It
is
certainly
not
in
my
father’s
or
even
in
my
brother’s
interest
to
stir the pot.”

“Nor
in
yours,
my William.”

“Will you
help
me?
I
do
know what
is
not
in
my
best
interests
is
also not in
yours.”

She
surprised
him with
a
smile.
“I
can leave
if
things
get
too uncomfortable for
me.”

“But
you
won’t.”
It
wasn’t
a
plea
or
a
command,
but
a
statement
of fact.

Her
eyes
seemed
to
sparkle. “I
won’t.
I
will
see
you
tonight.
I
need
to make
sure you’re taking
care of my sprites.”

“Leave
by
the
servant’s
gate
at
eight
bells.
No
one
will
note
it,
I
swear. I
will
co
n
trive
a
way
to
get
you
back
in
unnoticed.
After
all,
I
still
have
the key.”
His eyes raised,
and
he realized Bonny
was closing in.

“To
my
heart,
I
know.”
She
said
a
little
louder,
and
turned
and
smiled
at
Bonny.
“And yes, yes, ‘tis
very
improper and
we shall be parting now.”

“Don’t
make
me
tell
on
you.”
Bonny
made
a
moue,
pointing
at
William,
and
William
bowed.

When
they
left,
moving on
to
other
stalls,
he
went
back
to
the
mask seller.
The
Light
Day
celebration
was
coming
soon,
when
the
Magister’s Ball
would
take
place.
He
lifted
the
elaborate
mask of
feathers
and
looked through
it,
remembering
how
my
s
terious
her
eyes
had
looked,
and he bought
it.
It
was
placed
on
a
bed
of
lavender
tissue,
and
boxed
with
a
ribbon. He
carried
it
and
the
crockery home
with
much
more
care.
The
mask
was not a
gesture of romance,
not quite.
He was beginning to form
a
plan.

Chapter
1
4

Marco first,
Pale
Moon Quarter 1789

Dear
William,

Adventures of my own? Hardly. I do not fight
pirates or
deliver treasures to far
off
lands.
The
closest things
I
have
to
any
adventure are
learning
the
wind sprites’ ways
and
teaching students who
are
at
the
age
where
they
are
much
more interested in their future intended
than
they
are
in their future vocation.

I
have
discovered that
the
sprites do not think
as
we
think. That
is my
belief,
and
the
only
way
I
can
explain
the
enigma
of them.
They
have
incredible,
unfathomable
abilities. Last
night they
were playing
a
game
where
they
froze
water into such intricate patterns that
my
mind had
a
hard
time comprehending what
I
was seeing.
They
treat me like a
child,
yet
they
all act quite childlike;
they
do not speak
much,
but I
do not know if
it is because
they
are
still learning
my
language
(for you
will recall, they did not speak at all when I first
met them) or because they would rather
feel
what
they
are
thinking
to me.
I
cannot
hear them
unless they
are
right at
my
ear,
anyway,
but I
can
sense
what
they
are
thinking,
though
it’s more their emotional response than
words. They
act
like they
are
three
or four,
but they
often demonstrate knowledge
far,
far
beyond
me,
so I
think
that
their
minds are
so great,
yet
so different
from our own,
that
perhaps the
only
way
they
can
communicate is at
the
level
of
the
utmost simplicity.

They
are
very
sweet,
though,
protective and
loving.
I
try to
treat them
with great
r
e
spect,
and
hope
that
I
always
seem
to, but sometimes I
feel
like they
are
a
gaggle
of
chi
l
dren
placed
in my
care,
and
love them
as
such.
It
is hard
to address their king
with the
proper deference
when
but a
few
moments before
he
was playing
hide
and
seek
in your clothes.

By
now you
will be
setting your sails for the
turn around the Arch
of
Neris. A
place
of
great
sorrow it is, and
I
pray,
fervently, for your safe
passage.

Yours, eventually
,

Tasmin

She
counted
the
b
ells
as
she
stood
at
the
top
of
the stairs, playing
with
a
shard
of
clear,
golden
topaz, holding
it
up
to
the
candle
light
and
looking
at
the
golden
flame
of
it
that
b
urned
,
refracted in
the
center
of
the stone.
She
was
not
sure
if
she
truly
wanted
to
use
it,
but
knew
she
had
no
choice. There was no
other way to get out of the house unseen.

She
heard
footsteps
on
the
floor
behind
her,
coming
closer,
and
forced herself to breathe calmly as she slipped the smooth
-
edged stone, cold and glassy,
past
her
lips
and
under
her
tongue,
her
eyes
on
the
mirror at
the head of the landing.

Her
form
flickered
out
like
a
candle
as
the
maid
came
round
the
corner
with a
bed warmer.

Tasmin
stepped
aside
slowly,
letting
the
woman
pass,
then
followed
her past the main
stairs and
further down the hall.