Jim Butcher - Furies of Calderon

"Bernard," she said. "Why is there a girl in your bed?"

Her brother coughed and flushed. "Isana, when you say it that way-"

She turned to blink up at him. "Bernard. Why is there a girl in your bed"?"

He grimaced. "That's Amara. The slave Tavi helped. I was going to lay her down on a cot by the fire, but she panicked. Begged me not to let her sleep down there. Whispering like she was afraid of something. So I told her I wouldn't, and she just passed out." He glanced back toward his room. "I brought her up here."

"To your bed."

"Isana! Where else was I supposed to take her?"

"Just tell me you don't think she's actually a lost slave who Tavi happened to rescue."

"No," he said. "I don't. Her story didn't add up. It sounded all right at first, but I cleaned out her cuts and didn't give her anything for the pain. She got tired fast. Nearly collapsed."

"She's hurt?"

"Nothing to kill her, so long as she doesn't take fever. But yes. Her feet got cut up on rocks, and she's got what looks like a blade wound on her arm. Says she got them falling down."

"Clumsy girl," Isana said. She shook her head. "Sounds like she's someone. Maybe an agent of one of the Lords?"

"Who knows. She seemed decent enough. I suppose she could be what she says."

A quiet and desperate fear curled through her. Isana felt her hands start to shake, and her knees. "And she just happened to arrive that close to him?"

He sighed and shook his head. "I didn't like that part, either. And there's more. Strangers, downstairs. Three of them. They're asking for shelter until the storm blows over."

"And they just happened to show up today." Isana swallowed. "It's happening, isn't it."

"We knew it might."

She swore softly. "Furies, Bernard. Crows and bloody furies."

His voice sounded pained. "Isana-"

She held up her hand toward him. "No, Bernard. No. There's too much to do. How is Tavi?"

He pressed his lips together for a moment, but said, "Not good. I was hard on him. Guess I was upset at not knowing what was going on. Worried."

"We have to find out what's going on. We must know whether or not he's in any danger."

"All right. What do you want me to do?"

"Get downstairs, to those strangers. Be polite with them. Get them some food. Get their shoes off."

"Their shoes-?"

Isana snapped, "Have someone wash their feet, city-style. Just do it." She closed her eyes, thinking. "I'll talk to Tavi. And this Amara. Make sure they aren't hurt worse than you thought."

"She's exhausted," he pointed out. "Looks like she's been run into the ground."

"She shouldn't be up to telling much of a lie, then," Isana said. "I'll be downstairs to talk to the strangers in a bit. Do you know how the storm is shaping up?"

He nodded. "Not as bad as last night, but not pretty. Everyone should be all right if they're indoors, but I've called everyone into the Hall, just to be safe."

"Good," Isana said. "The more people there, the better. Don't leave them alone, Bernard. Don't let them out of your sight. All right?"

"I won't," he promised. "What about Tavi? He should know."

She shook her head. "No. Now more than ever, no. He doesn't need that on his head."

Bernard looked unhappy with her words, but did not gainsay them. He turned toward the stairs, but hesitated, looking into his bedroom, at the girl who lay on the bed. "Isana… the girl is barely more than a child. She's exhausted. She had a chance to do wrong, and she didn't. Tavi says she saved his life. You should let her rest."

"I don't want anyone to be hurt," Isana said. "Go on."

His expression hardened. "I mean it."

"All right."

He nodded to her and vanished silently down the stairs again.

Isana went back into her bedroom and took up her bone-handled brush. She took it with her, gathering her hair over one shoulder, and knocked at

Tavi's door. There was no response. She knocked again and said, "Tavi, it's me. May I come in?"

Silence. Then the doorknob turned and the door opened a fraction. She opened the door the rest of the way and walked into the room.

Tavi's room was dark, with no lights lit. Of course, he couldn't use the furylamps, she reminded herself, and he'd been inside since Bernard had come home earlier that day. With the windows shuttered and the storm gathering outside, the place held a surprisingly deep collection of shadows. She could just see him settling back down onto his bed, no more than a dim outline across the room.

She began to brush at her hair, giving him a chance to speak. He remained silent, and after several moments she asked, "How are you feeling, Tavi?"

"Why don't you tell me?" he said, his tone sullen. "I don't know any watercrafting, so how am I supposed to know?"

Isana sighed. "Tavi, that's not fair. You know that I don't have a choice about what I sense from others."

"Plenty of things aren't fair," he shot back.

"You're upset about what your uncle told you."

"I worked all year to get those sheep he promised. And this…" He shook his head, his voice tightening with anguish, frustration that pressed against Isana like the heat from an old fire.

"You made some bad choices, Tavi. But that doesn't mean that-"

"Choices," Tavi spat the word bitterly. "As though I ever had that many to make. It isn't like I'm going to have to worry about that again, now."

She tugged the brush at a tangle in her hair. "You're just upset. So was your uncle. This isn't anything to get worked up about, Tavi. I'm sure that when everyone's calmed down-"

The sudden surge of frustration and pain from Tavi hit her like a tangible wind. The brush tumbled from her fingers and to the floor. She caught her breath, though the intensity of the boy's emotions nearly robbed her of balance. "Tavi… are you all right?"

He whispered, "It's nothing to get worked up about."

"I don't understand why these sheep are so important to you."

"No," he said. "You wouldn't. I want to be by myself."

Isana pressed her lips together and bent carefully to recover her brush. "But I need to talk to you about what happened. There are some things-"

Anger, real, vibrant rage rushed across the room along with the other sensations pouring from him. "I am finished talking about what happened," Tavi said. "I want to be alone. Please leave."

"Tavi-"

His dim shape rolled over on the bed, turning his back to the door. Isana felt her own emotions begin to drift dangerously toward what the boy felt, his feelings beginning to bleed into hers. She drew a breath, steeling herself against them and said, "All right. But we aren't through talking. Later."

He didn't answer.

Isana retreated from the room. She had hardly shut the door when she heard the latch slide shut on the inside and lock it closed. She had to take several steps down the hall before she emerged from the deluge of the boy's emotions. She couldn't understand it: Why was Tavi so upset over what had happened 1?

More to the point, what didn't she know about the events of the day before? Could they have any bearing on the arrival of so many strangers to the Valley at once?

She shook her head and leaned against the wall for a moment. Tavi had a powerful personality, a formidable force of will that leant his passions an extra weight, somehow, and forced her to struggle more sharply to keep them separate from her own. Not that it was surprising that she should feel him more keenly than anyone else, in any case. She loved him too much, had been near him too long.

To say nothing of the other reasons.

Isana shook her head firmly. Regardless of how drained she felt from last night's crafting, there was no time to waste. She should have remembered her purpose when speaking to the boy: to learn what she could of the previous day's events that Bernard could not remember.