Kate Elliott - Cold Magic

"There she is," said Roderic.

Legate Amadou Barry walked over. "I hope your rest was a peaceful one, maestressa."

"What happened to that soldier?"

"Blooded by cold steel. We had a few minor injuries, but he alas is dead. We'll leave immediately after the camp comes down. You'll ride at the center of the formation lest their cross-bowmen decided to take a shot at you. However, it seems we've driven them off, for they are nowhere to be seen this morning."

A man had died on account of me.

Blessed Tank, make his passing gentle and his journey an easy one. Give peace to his family.

The low-hanging clouds made gray of the world. Our mood as we set out had the harsh tone of untuned, jangling strings. Later, it began to rain.

The next day in the late afternoon, without further incident, we reached Adurnam.

No one had warned Bee. A servant opened a door, and I entered the sitting room behind Amadou. At first, his body shielded me from her view. I beheld a spacious chamber lit by many lamps against the encroaching dusk. The walls were painted with chevrons and angled stripes in red, black, and yellow. An oak mantel carved with lizards capped a brick fireplace inset with a circulating stove; the fire within radiated so much heat that I began to sweat, and to think about how filthy I was. I could not catch my breath.

On one of the Roman-style couches sat a proud-looking woman no older than Aunt Tilly, wearing embroidered damask robes whose vivid orange and green shone. Her elaborate coiffure of braids was complemented by gold earrings shaped like hoops that dangled to her shoulder. She was an elegant, graceful, beautiful woman of Afric ancestry; Amadou resembled her. The twin sisters were seated on stools on opposite sides of a table, stringing beads and coins and other small objects onto a chain. Both set down their work and glanced up with bright smiles.

"Amadou!" they cried, and then they glimpsed Roderic, behind me, and looked away.

As Amadou walked forward to greet his aunt, I saw Bee seated on the other couch holding a sketchbook on her lap and a pencil in her left hand. Her thunderous frown, directed at the open page, made me giggle, in some part with delight but also because after all this time I was so desperately relieved to see her alive and well. Yet what was she so angry about?

She heard my chortle. She looked up. With a deafening shriek, she flung sketchbook and pencil halfway across the room as she leaped up. Her expression entirely transformed, she charged across the space between us and threw herself into my arms. I would have wept, but Bee's embrace was so crushing I could barely get air into my lungs much less find breath for sobs.

We stood this way for a while, smashed together, holding tight, my cane pressed between us. I could not think. We were reunited. That was all that mattered.

Eventually, I opened my eyes. Over her head, I watched Rod-eric making his courtesies to the aunt, who clearly found him as charming as he found himself. Amadou pulled up two wooden stools with legs carved to become antelopes, and the men sat down in front of his aunt. Rory smiled at the twins as Amadou bent forward to confer with his aunt, who held his right hand between hers.

Bee must have felt my attention shift. She released me from the vise. I took in a long gasping breath, then staggered forward, aware I had snubbed the woman who had sheltered Bee. But she was gracious, and her nieces seemed genuinely if shyly pleased to see me again, although I am sure I had not ever been kind enough to them at the academy to deserve their generous greeting.

"You remember my half brother Roderic, Beatrice," I said, hoping I would not have to kick her. "It's been ever so many years since we last saw him."

She fixed her full-bore stare on me, drilling for secrets. Then she swept over to him.

"How could 1 possibly forget dear Rory!" With a flourish, she kissed him smartly on either cheek and rather more warmly than he had clearly expected.

He glanced at me as if for aid in dealing with a flower whose beauty might hide poisonous thorns.

Bee stepped back from him and eyed Rory an instant more, then cast a look toward Amadou so brimming with fulmination that I would have laughed if she had not appeared ready to stick a knife in him… or to kiss him. It was difficult to tell. He pressed a palm to his forehead, realized he was doing so, and looked to his aunt with a plea.

"Please sit," his aunt said. "This is unexpected."

Water was brought, then coffee and candied ginger, boska, and cherries. Amadou described, succinctly, our meeting at Cold Fort. He was clearly concerned that Lord Marius had not yet rejoined us, and his aunt took the opportunity to suggest she and he go to the factotum's office and see about sending a messenger to the prince's court in Adurnam. The twins likewise were dragged along on this expedition. It was done so smoothly that I had scarcely realized she had deliberately engineered matters to leave us alone, when Bee stung.

"Who are you, really?" She rose with fists on hips, arms akimbo, to glare at Roderic. "Come along to charm my innocent cousin into calling you her brother!'

He blithely transferred himself to the nearest couch, stretched out his long legs, and leaned back with arms crossed. "I do not need to defend what is true."

The battle of wills commenced as they stared each other down. Obviously, neither was going to blink first.

"He really is my brother," I said, running a hand up and down the smooth length of the cane that had been given to me by an eru who had called me "cousin." "Or at least he could be. If we share a sire."

"The hair is like," she admitted grudgingly. "You've some

resemblance about the face. Perhaps. Why do you have a cane,at?

"To protect myself at night. You won't believe what has happened to me."

"I might," she said ominously, like a storm about to break. She flung herself down beside Rory, ignoring him in exactly the way she ignored her little sisters when she wasn't interested in what they were doing. Her gaze followed me as I crossed the room to collect her sketchbook and pencil and returned them to her. I sat on the other side of her on the couch, running my fingers over the embroidered silk. I was sure I had never touched cloth as expensive as this in all my days. The simple layout of the house gave the appearance of modesty, rather like Amadou Barry, but one could see in the quality of its appointments that the family did not maintain a more opulent house only because they chose not to.

"I might believe anything now," she went on darkly, pressing the sketchbook to her chest. "I might believe my own father and mother handed my dear cousin over to wicked magisters under false pretenses, knowing they had bound themselves years ago to a contract that actually called for me to be handed over to the mage House."

"Did you know?" I whispered, fingering a perfect rose made of tiny red stitches.

"Can you possibly imagine I would have stood by meekly and let them sacrifice you in my place had I known?"

Tears burned. "No," I choked out. "I never did believe it, not for all this time."

She grasped my hand. I twisted the bracelet she had given me off my wrist and placed it back onto hers, the mark of our compact. Thus we made our peace.

"We were both duped," she raged, turning the bracelet around and around her wrist. "Lied to. Used. 1 am so angry 1 couldHer expressive face sheared through so many emotions so quickly that it was dizzying.

Rory leaned forward. "You could what? I am all ears."

"It was a figure of speech, you wretched idiot," she said with the same dismissive scorn she heaped on her sisters when they annoyed her. "There's nothing I can do but sit here and be grateful for these very fine and high-placed and fabulously wealthy people who have been so generously willing to offer a sad, impoverished lowly Barahal shelter, food, and a bed."