The Hob's Bargain(84)
I felt a jolt of incredulous joy that cut through the numb exhaustion and wrongness. Kith was alive? I crawled toward them, then remembered Wandel was supposed to kill Kith. I stared stupidly at the harper, who met my gaze and frowned.
"This village needs him." He sounded defensive.
I smiled at him with sudden euphoria. Wandel wasn't going to kill Kith. Not ever. He knew it, too; I could tell by the self-disgust in his voice. Neither Caefawn nor Kith was dead. At least not yet. There was an awful lot of blood on Wandel's shirt.
Caefawn staggered to Kith, favoring his injured knee. He sat beside the Wandel and touched Kith briefly. Without taking his eyes off Kith, he held a hand back to me. "Aren, I need your help."
I reached out and took his hand. He stiffened, as he had under the bloodmage's spell.
"Aren?" With the explosive swiftness I'd seen in him before, he turned toward me. The horror on his face made me want to cower away from him, but my body chose that moment to quit obeying me again.
Could he see how close I'd been to becoming something he hated? Could he see the taint left on me? I tried to pull back, but my body moved toward his gentle tug.
He took my face in his hands, and I could feel the touch of his claws resting against my skin. He'd taken his earring back from the bloodmage and rewoven it through his ear.
"What did he do to you?" There was fear in his voice, and something in me relaxed when I saw I didn't disgust him. The familiar grip of his tail reassured me.
My hand reached out and touched his jaw. His skin was smooth against my fingertips. He moved one of his hands from my face to catch my hand and flatten it against his cheek.
Wandel said something I didn't catch.
"I can heal his wound, but I need Aren to mend his spirit. Keep the pressure on here, while I try to undo whatever the bloodmage did to her." But I could see that it wasn't worry for Kith that drove Caefawn.
I'd always thought his flirtation was an attempt to obey the wishes of the mountain. The mountain who wanted him to mate so his race would continue and she wouldn't be alone. Motives I understood, both the mountain's and Caefawn's. I understood about loneliness.
I stood by the too-shallow grave as the men piled half-frozen dirt on Quilliar's body. He'd always wanted to be buried in the winter because winter graves were heaped high with rocks and stones rather than the sunken places where those buried when the earth was soft rested.
Warm lips touched my mouth gently. "No, Aren, don't go away." I was wrapped in Caefawn's arms, cuddled against his warmth. His skin felt soft against my hands. The warmth of his tail, still curled about my ankle, made me want to smile.
I opened my eyes and saw stark dread in his. He loves me, I thought.
And I was dying.
In my haste to regain control of my body, I'd ripped the ties between my spirit and my body. Nahag had already broken the bindings holding my soul. With Caefawn and Kith safe, I lacked the strength to hold myself together anymore. And, like Nahag, soon I would just drift apart.
"If you go," Caefawn said, "Kith won't live. He needs you to mend his spirit." His hands moved subtly on my back and neck, giving pleasure. He was doing it deliberately.
"Not just any emotions," he said with a speculative look, as if he could read what I'd thought about him. "Only things that make your spirit want to stay with your body."
The soft, fluffy end of his tail caressed my cheek playfully. Faran take it, he knew I'd used the half-frightening desire I felt for him. It hadn't worked as well against the fetch as it had against the ghost. But it left me feeling things that were frightening, embarrassing, and... wondrous.
"Aren." He crooned my name in a husky voice that spoke of dark nights and snared passion, calling me back. But his eyes were desolate. He believed I was going to die, too.
"What's wrong?" asked Merewich's voice.
I knew I was dying. And I was.
But... what if it was like with the fetch? What happened if I didn't believe it? What if - I thought, settling peacefully into Caefawn's lap - what if I was too stubborn?
Caefawn tucked my head under his chin, presumably because his tears weren't something he thought would hold me, body, spirit, and soul. Listening to his shuddering breath, I decided he was wrong. I would not die and leave the hob alone. Slowly, because it was all I could manage, I pulled a bit of magic from the land and began repairing the damage the bloodmage and I had done. It surprised me how little time it took.
"So," I said diffidently and a bit hoarsely, "How can I help you with Kith?"
FINIS
AUTUMN - Harvest
FINIS
At Merewich's insistence, Fallbrook held a festival to celebrate the peace between the raiders and the villagers. It was outside the town near an old snag the children decorated with brightly colored scarves.
Tolleck the priest opened the celebration by hailing the rich bounty the land had brought to us and our ancestors. The people caroused, danced, and sang to convince themselves that they'd survived. Wandel sang a lot of old songs praising the earth. The innkeeper played a fine fiddle, and the smith drummed. Poul danced with me.
I could still hear the music, though the festivities were hidden by a rise in the land. After happening upon Kith and Danci holding their own celebration, I avoided the private places and walked in the open with a silly smile on my face.
Patricia Briggs's Books
- Burn Bright (Alpha & Omega #5)
- Silence Fallen (Mercy Thompson #10)
- Patricia Briggs
- Fire Touched (Mercy Thompson #9)
- Fire Touched (Mercy Thompson, #9)
- Masques (Sianim #1)
- Shifting Shadows: Stories from the World of Mercy Thompson
- Raven's Strike (Raven #2)
- Raven's Shadow (Raven #1)
- Night Broken (Mercy Thompson #8)