Masques (Sianim #1)(49)

She ended his speech with a rude word and, assuming as much dignity as she could muster sitting on her rump amidst the tangle of blankets, said hoarsely, "Idiot! Certainly I knew that you were the ae'Magi's son, Cain. Just how many apprentices do you think the ae'Magi has had? I know the name of every one of them, thanks to Ren. How many magicians do you think would have the power to do what you did to Edom? Just how stupid do you think I am?" She paused to catch her breath before continuing. "Why are you always hiding from me? First the wolfshape, then the mask and the scars. Do you distrust me so much?"

"No," said Wolf with a brief touch of laughter in his eyes; not many people would have the courage to attack him like that. Trust Aralorn to do it even when she was so weak she couldn't stand up. "I just had forgotten this." He waved a hand in the general direction of his face. "The scars are legitimate; I acquired them as I told you. It wasn't until I left the service of the ae'Magi that I realized that I could get rid of them the same way that I could take wolfshape. All things considered, I preferred the scars. When I got you out of the dungeon, it was necessary to appear to be the ae'Magi in order to get past the guards. I must have forgotten to resume the scars. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to startle you."

With an expression that wasn't quite a smile Aralorn commented, "When I die of heart failure the next time you frighten me like that, you can put that on my gravestone - 'I didn't mean to startle her.'" As she talked, she looked at him carefully, seeing things that hadn't been apparent, at first. His face was without the laugh lines around the eyes and mouth that characterized the ae'Magi's. There was no grey in the black hair, but the expression in his eyes made him look much older than his father. Wolf's eyes, Wolf eyes they were - with a hunter's cold, amoral gaze.

"Does Myr know who you are?" she asked.

He nodded. "I told him before I offered my assistance. It was only fair that he knew what he was getting into."

There was a slight pause and then Aralorn said, "The ae'Magi asked me about you, about Cain." That much she could remember.

Wolf raised an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

Aralorn raised hers in return. "I told him that you were dead."

"Did he believe you?" he asked.

She shrugged, and started to tug discreetly at the heap of blankets that intermingled with her feet. "At the time he did, but since you chose to rescue me, he'll probably come to the conclusion that I lied to him."

He let her struggle with the blankets until she was through talking and then he said, "Let's get you into a more comfortable position" - he indicated her makeshift hobble with a careless hand - "and back under the covers with you before you catch your death, shall we." His voice was a wicked imitation of one of the healers at Sianim.

Even as he untangled her and restored her makeshift bed to its previous order, she could feel an imp of a headache coming on. "Wolf," she said softly, catching his hand and stilling it, "don't use the scars. You are not the ae'Magi - you don't have to prove it."

He tapped her on the nose and shook his head with mock despair. "Did anyone ever tell you that you are overbearing, Lady?" He resumed his efforts and tucked a pillow behind her head.

"Where are we, and how long have we been here?" It was an effort to keep her eyes open any longer, and her voice slurred as she finished the sentence, ending in a racking cough. As she hacked and gasped for breath, he held her upright. She didn't notice that it helped any, but the feel of his arms around her was pleasant. The hazy thought occurred to her that she'd left Reth to go to Sianim to get away from the feeling of being protected; she didn't think that he'd notice that the last few coughs were suppressed sounds of self-amusement.

He listened to her laughter and chose to ignore it outwardly, knowing that it came from weakness as much as amusement. "We're about a day's brisk walk away from the Master Magician's Castle. We've been here for three days. As soon as you wake up we'll start on our way." He couldn't tell how much of it she heard, but it didn't matter. He'd tell her again when she woke up.

* * *

THE NEXT TIME ARALORN REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS, SHE WAS fed and dressed in a tunic and trousers she recognized as her own before she had a chance to do any more than open her eyes. She was propped up with brisk efficiency beside a tree and told to "stay there." Wolf then piled all of the blankets, clothes and utensils together and sent them on their way with a brisk wave of his staff.

"Where did you get my clothes?" Aralorn asked with idle curiosity from where she sat leaning against a tree.

"From Sianim, where you left them." With efficient motions he was cleaning the area they had occupied until only the remains of the fire would give indication that someone had camped there.

She raised an eyebrow at him, crossed her arms in front of her, and said in a deceptively mild tone, "You mean all the time that I was all but bursting out of the innkeeper's son's clothes, you could have gotten mine for me?"

He grunted without looking at her, but she could see a hint of a smile in his flawless profile.

"I asked you a question," she said in a dangerously soft tone.

"I was waiting for the tunic seams to finally give way ..." He paused to dodge the handful of grass she threw at him, and then shrugged. "I am sorry, Lady. It just never occurred to me."