Karl Schroeder - Ventus

"Talk?" She frowned.

"Yeah." Axel shrugged uneasily. Their cover story here might be blown. "So I said yes," he finished unhappily.

"He's forcing our hand," she said.

"So what do we do? I told him I'd be there."

"Wise, but obviously we can't just react at this point. I wanted just a day or two more to pinpoint Armiger, but..." She nodded decisively. "I think we have enough."

"You know where he is?"

"About a hundred kilometers from the Iapysian border," she said. "Almost due south. More importantly, I think we've figured out where he's going."

"The queen?"

She nodded. "He seems to be interested in war. If he can use his powers to save Queen Galas, he might take over Iapysia. I thought before that the battle where the Winds intervened was a test. He may have wanted to find out what it would take to attract their attention. But it could be that he really does want to conquer a kingdom. Maybe he needs a large number of men to help him search for the Winds' Achilles Heel, or some other resource he's after." She shrugged. "It's all speculation."

He grinned loosely. "So let me get this straight: we cut and run now, Turcaret sends the king's guards after us, and where are we running, but straight into a war zone."

She half-smiled. "Essentially, yes. The problem is what to do about Jordan."

"We can't very well leave him," he said.

"We can't very well take him with us either. Not only because he'll slow us down. You and I are prepared for the danger, but he is not."

"That's where August comes in," he said brightly.

"Absolutely not. We've already involved too many people."

Axel threw up his hands. "Will you stop whining about that! It's their world—you can't treat these people like children. So a few of them find out what's going on—what kind of crime is that?"

"That's not the point. We keep adding extra concerns that just muddy the main issue, which is how to deal with Armiger as quickly as we can and get out."

"Is the job all you care about?" He hopped down from the crenel. "These people aren't going to cease to exist just because we go away. We kidnapped Jordan. What's he going to do when we cut him loose? Haven't you considered that?—or were you just planning to get him away from Turcaret and then cut him loose?"

She glowered at him. Obviously, she had been thinking just that.

"You're not playing the whole game, Cal, you never do. We're not just here to eliminate Armiger, we're here to act like decent human beings. What's wrong with getting to know people and helping them live their lives? And letting them help us live ours? I like Jordan. He did the right thing last night; he'll be a man of solid character once he's able to support himself."

"Well," she said coldly, "you've decided the right and wrong of it all, I see. So my opinion now isn't going to matter."

Axel clutched his black hair. "Your opinion matters! So does Jordan's. So does August's! We're not just assassins, that's all! Why don't you get to know these people? Maybe you'll like them. Maybe," he laughed, "you and August will hit it off! What's so bad about that?"

She stalked away. "We'll leave tonight—with Jordan," was all she said as she yanked up the lead-sheathed trapdoor.

Axel watched the door slam, then cursed. She hadn't understood a word he was saying.

Armiger stood and wiped the sweat from his brow. He had been trying all afternoon to repair the damage he'd caused to Megan's garden last night. Short of using some of his own nano, there was nothing more he could do.

"Very good," she said. He turned. Megan leaned on the tall stump that marked the end of the garden. She smiled. "But seldom have I seen a man so grimy."

"I told you I would fix it."

She laughed. "One does not 'fix' growing things, Armiger. But... with practise, you could become a good gardener. I may leave the task to you for a while."

He brushed back his hair. She seemed happy at the thought, and he did not want to disappoint her. Still... "I can't stay," he said.

Her face fell. "Why not? You're not going back to your damnable army?"

"This is another army, and another war." He shrugged uncomfortably. "I want to talk to Queen Galas. She's the only one on this off-chart world who seems to know what the Winds are. The only human on Ventus with vision. Naturally, she's going to be killed for it. So I have to reach her immediately."

Megan folded her arms under her breasts. "You know this queen?"

"No. Never met her."

Megan watched him pick his way carefully out of the garden. He hadn't said he was in love with the queen. Still, he was willing to leave Megan to see her.

He paused next to her, waiting for her to fall into step as he headed for the cottage. His recovery had been unnaturally swift, so that by now he showed no sign of having been at death's door. Quite the contrary; his face glowed with health, and he moved with a cat-like grace he had sometimes caught her admiring. None of this surprised Megan; he was a morph, or some spirit very like that, so such powers were to be expected. But he was still a wounded man, she knew, regardless of his bodily strength. He walked and ate like one in shock, and their conversations had continued to be brief and awkward. Some men trod heavily on their own hurt; the worse it was, the harder they would push it down, but it showed—in premature age, in lines of exhaustion and anger in the face. And she well knew that a man who will not salve his own pain will often put all his energy into healing that of others'. To Megan, such brutality against oneself combined the most noble and foolish that men were capable of, and men of this sort drew her like magnets. Her own Matt had been like that. She believed only a woman could ease the intolerable pressure these men put on themselves.

So, Armiger was leaving. But she would be going with him, though he did not know it yet—and she had only this moment decided.

"I have money," she said. "Enough for a horse, maybe two. Riding palfreys."

"I only need one horse," he said. Men were so obtuse sometimes; she half-smiled.

He strode easily through the thick grass, muscles moving in that fascinating synchrony she saw only in horses and men. "I'm not letting you in the house until you're clean," she said mischievously.

"You might have a long wait, then." He grinned back at her. "Your little well only draws a cupful at a time. Do you propose to wash me a palm's-width at a time?"

"That might be delightful," she said. "But wait and see."

When they reached the cottage, he laughed in surprise. "How long did this take you?" She had filled an entire washtub while he was in the garden.

"Well..." She put her hands behind her back and kicked the dirt. "I rather thought you would need it. So I started just after you left."

"I do need it." Unself-consciously he stripped off his shirt. Her eyes widened as she saw he meant to do the same with his pants.

Armiger had only bathed in the presence of other men—officers and enlisted men, at river's edge or encampment. It took him a moment to notice her sudden silence, then he realized he might be shocking her. By then he was naked, and had already stepped into the water.

He turned and their eyes met. Even as she stepped toward him, he felt his sex stirring. Since becoming embodied, he had not made love; it wasn't necessary. Still, he had seen others do it many times, although the rapes performed by his men were distasteful, nothing like the love-making in which he had seen his remotes indulge.

Megan took a washcloth and wordlessly ran it up his leg. She did not look at him as she laved his calves and thighs; but his excitement was visible, and she raised her eyes to his as she brought the cloth there.

He reached to touch the nape of her neck. She sighed heavily, and ran her wet fingertips along his member. She kissed the flat of his stomach, then stood into his embrace.