Kate Elliott - Cold Fire

“Yes, I can understand that. A village boy raised to be a laborer whose entire clan serves Four Moons House in clientage. It must have been difficult for the young men raised in all the privilege of the house to see you walk in and best them all.”

His mouth twitched up, shading his expression to one of nostalgic triumph. “They hated it.”

“And they hated you, too, evidently. But the mansa cannot want to lose you. Nor would your family, for though you were taken away from them to serve as a cold mage, it was clear they love you. So why are you here?”

“I might ask you the same question.”

“Yes, you might. I’m amazed you haven’t yet done so.”

He crossed his arms over his chest in a way that unfortunately displayed his muscular forearms to advantage. “Good manners and simple common sense dictate that I should wait until you have a chance to eat.”

I laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” he demanded.

“Why do you think I’m laughing?”

“Why would I ask if I already knew?”

“Don’t you remember our first meal together, at the inn in Adurnam? Weren’t you the one who kept rejecting every dish as not good enough for your consequence?”

“Are you comparing that meal to this one?”

“Comparing the food itself, or just your behavior?”

He shoved the platter aside and rested both arms on the tables, gazing at me with a furrowed brow and head cocked to one side. “Why are you answering all my questions with questions?”

“What makes you think I’m answering all your questions with questions?”

“I can’t possibly imagine, Catherine.” He refilled the cup with juice, as if to give his hands something to do rather than throttle me. “Unless one supposed that hearing you answer all my questions with questions makes me think you are answering all my questions with questions.”

“Yes,” I said hopefully. My lips parted as I released a breath.

He raised the cup, took a swallow, and lowered it. “Catherine, you are answering all my questions with questions.”

My heart began pounding as if I were running. “Yes, I am.”

He turned the cup once all the way around. “Past experience suggests you may be doing it purposefully simply to annoy me.”

“No, I’m not.” I slid the cup out of his hand. “Although it’s a tempting thought.”

He propped his chin on a hand and considered me until I bit my lower lip. When he spoke, it was as if we were sharing a secret. “You and your cousin crossed into the spirit world in Adurnam. You met my grandmother there. Let me guess. You’re under some manner of binding.”

“Yes!”

“You have to answer questions with questions.”

“Yes. Thank you for realizing!” I reached out impulsively to grasp both his hands.

He looked down, eyes widening.

I snatched my hands back and tucked them out of sight under the table.

He made a business of coughing. “It’s easy enough to get around. You’re under a binding. If you can tell me what or who has set this binding on you, maybe I can help you break it.”

A crow fluttered down to land on the roof of the building in back. Its gaze like a hammer nailed my mouth shut. I just sat there.

Irritation flickered in the tightening of his eyes. Then a thought occurred to him, and his expression cleared. “It makes sense that a binding would bind you so you can’t speak of it.”

“Cold magic can’t break this,” I whispered, warning him off, for that cursed crow was still watching us.

“Don’t think you know what I can manage with regard to cold magic, Catherine.”

“Here in the land of the lowly fire bane,” I agreed, noting how his gaze narrowed at the phrase. “You haven’t answered my question. What could possibly bring you to Expedition?”

He looked past me. Rising, he left the table. Resolutely, I did not turn to watch him. He returned with a huge platter of steaming rice and peas topped by a slab of fish still sizzling from being fried in oil. The smell almost flattened me with its anticipatory aroma. He set down the platter and offered me utensils.

“Don’t think to distract me from my question,” I muttered as my traitorous hand accepted spoon and knife.

He smiled. I did not like that smile. That smile could peel the clothes right off a woman’s body.

“Go on,” he said coaxingly.

To my horror, I felt the heat of a blush rising just as if he had voiced that very suggestion and I was actually considering it.

He rocked back, caught himself, and let out a deep breath.

“Aunty makes the best rice and peas in the city,” he said in an altered tone.

He dug in. The sight of him eating with such gusto shocked me into temporary immobility. Then the smell of the food seduced me. The rice and round beans had been cooked in a creamy milk, and had a peppery flavor not burning but warm. The fish was white and flaky and perfect. It was so good and I was so hungry.

He paused. A disdainful frown creased his face. “Someone hasn’t been feeding you properly.”

I dropped my gaze back to the food so I didn’t have to look at Vai in case he would guess that I was thinking of Drake, for it seemed obvious he was referring to Drake. “You still didn’t answer. What brought you to Expedition?”

“A three-masted ship.”

“Don’t lie to me!” I set down my spoon.

“I didn’t lie to you. It was a three-masted ship. As for why I am here, I came to help my sister make a new life here.”

“Kayleigh? And the mansa just let her go?”

He tucked away several spoonfuls of the rice and peas as he considered. “Obviously it is not that simple, but it’s all I can say. If you thereby feel you cannot tell me what brings you to Expedition, then I will understand your reluctance to trust me. But you must know, Catherine, even if you can or wish to say nothing, I will give you whatever shelter and help you need. Anything.”

The word hit so hard I closed my eyes briefly out of sheer gratitude and relief. I was not alone and friendless. But I had to be pragmatic. “ Anything encompasses a great deal. I have nothing except the clothes on my back and my sword. And my father’s locket, which I have thanks to you.”

“I won’t abandon you.”

Mercifully he did not add as your lover evidently did, but when he looked at me with that accusatory gaze, I knew he knew I knew he was thinking it.

“Thank you.” I lowered my gaze to the mundanity of the platter. Gracious Melqart! Between us, we had eaten through almost all of it. “Are you sure we’re not still in the spirit world?”

“I’m sure. But I wonder why you might think so.”

“I just never saw you eat like a normal person before. You said once that cold magic fed you. Doesn’t it here?”

“The secret belongs to those who know how to keep silent.”

The words ought to have annoyed me, but instead they reminded me of the other thing I possessed. I fished the stone from the jacket’s hem. “I found…this.” I handed it to him.

He gasped.

“Your grandmother walked with us for a while. I must say, she scolded me on your behalf. She favors you. It was very irritating.”

His smile twitched but did not quite bloom. Wisely, he said nothing.

“Then she was caught in the tide of a dragon’s dream. It swept over her, and she was gone.”

“Not gone, Catherine. Changed.”

I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Is the stone your grandmother?”

“Of course it isn’t my grandmother!”

“Her-uh-her soul, then?”

“What odd notions you hold, Catherine. Is this some sort of Phoenician belief??”

“Can’t you remember that it is properly Kena’ani, not Phoenician?”

“I beg your pardon. You told me before, and I forgot.” He closed his fingers over the stone. “Something of my grandmother touches this stone. By holding it close, we are close to her. If we sit down to a meal and pour the first drops of our wine on the stone, then she will be called to dwell close beside us.” He rose, still clutching the stone. “If you’ll excuse me…”