The Ciphers of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood #2)(49)

“No, I remember mouse ears. This one is different. I do not remember seeing it yesterday. It is white.”

Maia came closer and looked at it. Her heart galloped in her chest and a flush came to her cheeks. It was a white lily, sitting amidst the blue. Transfixed, she approached the box, her stomach clenching, her heart pounding. She had not seen it growing in the garden before. She reached out and touched it, and it toppled over, not connected to a stem. It had been placed there.

The sound of boots thumped on the ground behind her.

“Maia!” Suzenne warned.

Dodd rushed in front of her to confront the intruder.

“Oh, that,” Collier said with a slight accent, “is a Dahomeyjan lily. The blue are not called mouse ears, by the way. They are called forget-me-not in Dahomeyjan. Ne-mou-blie.” A small chuckle came from his mouth then, almost an exasperated snort.

Dodd stiffened with anger, his muscles tensing. “Who are you, sir?” he challenged, reaching for the throwing axe stuffed in his belt.

“You do not want to do that, friend,” Collier warned, his deep blue eyes narrowing. His sword and dagger were also in easy reach.

Maia stared at Collier in wonder, shock making her cheeks flush and her wits scatter like gnats. He wore the rider’s garb he favored for his Feint Collier persona, his dust-spattered pants and light shirt. He was full of seething energy, his eyes bright and accusing. Though he smiled, his mouth was sardonic, accusing, injured. His dark hair was a little unkempt, still long and thick. Her eyes went to the scar on his cheek, just below his eye—the one she had always noticed. He stared at her full in the face, his lips curling slightly.

“You stalked us here? Or you were waiting for us?” Dodd said, whipping out the axe to defend Maia.

Maia put her hand on his arm. “No, Dodd. He is not the kishion.”

“If I were,” Collier spat, “the three of you would be dead right now. Put down the axe, friend. I will not warn you again.”

“Dodd,” Maia insisted, tugging on his arm. She could see the muscles clench in Dodd’s neck, his cheeks flushed with anger.

“Who is he?” Dodd asked angrily. “He has a foreign accent.”

“I have tried to lose all hint of it,” Collier said with a chuckle, “but I see I have not succeeded. Yours is from the north. You are Forshee’s boy. Not the new Family, the old one. I think there is a rivalry between our Families,” he added with a smirk.

“Put it down, Dodd,” Maia urged, pulling harder. “I know him. He will not harm me.”

Collier raised his eyebrows at that, as if to challenge her statement.

“I beg your leave to speak with Lady Maia alone,” Collier said, bowing slightly.

Dodd’s face tightened with suppressed anger. “You may beg all you like,” he said testily. “But—”

“Suzenne, take Dodd outside. I will join you shortly.”

Suzenne looked as if she had been commanded to clutch a serpent to her bosom. Her eyes were full of concern. “Maia, this is not wise,” she whispered.

Maia tried to control her breathing. Her heart was afire with emotions. Her knees were trembling. She had assumed, she had desperately hoped, that there would be time to prepare for their first reunion. Her stomach cramped with worry and concern. Collier looked furious—tightly controlled, but furious still. He looked as if he hoped Dodd would attack and give him an excuse to run him through with his blade.

“Maia, you cannot be serious,” Dodd said, looking at her as if she were stark raving mad.

“I am quite serious, Dodd. Please. I know this man. I must speak with him alone. Please wait for me outside the garden. Go.”

Suzenne nodded in deference and started for the garden door.

“What is your name?” Dodd asked Collier angrily.

“Feint Collier,” he replied with a wry twist in his voice.

“Faint?” Dodd asked with a chuckle.

“Would you rather I call you Dodd or Dodleah? Both are equally bad.”

Dodd bristled at the words and Collier looked smug.

“Go,” Maia repeated in his ear, squeezing his arm. He stared at Collier with undisguised contempt, but he marched to the door with Suzenne, letting them both out.

A breeze fluttered through Maia’s hair, and she swept the strands away from her face. He was still as handsome as she remembered, but it hurt to look at him. A jagged wound of pain was clearly festering inside him. She could see it, and it only made her anguish expand. She did not know what to say to him.

“I am—” she started.

“I hoped—”

They had both spoken at the same time and stopped short, their feelings too raw to be expressed smoothly.

They eyed each other warily, and Collier snorted again before closing the distance between them. It had been many months since she had seen him. But the damage was visible. The feelings of distrust, anger, and betrayal were evident on his face. There was no tenderness there, which hurt even though it had been expected. She prepared herself for a storm.

“If you thought no one would recognize you in wretched robes . . .” he said, daring to speak “let me just say that it is a flimsy disguise. You are too beautiful not to be noticed. This only calls more attention to you. Have you no other clothes to wear? I gave you a rather nice gown recently. Too fancy perhaps for an abbey? You kept the earrings, I see.”