p; * * *
"Pavek? Pavek-what's wrong?"
Nothing, he thought, but the thought got lost in the dark on its way to his tongue. The sky was brilliant red when he opened his eyes, and filled with bobbing, faintly green spheres the size of the setting sun. That was Akashia kneeling beside him, her voice full of feminine concern and her face lost in the shifting chaos of his vision. He'd slept through the entire afternoon.
"Must've fallen asleep."
The silhouette nodded. "You're lucky you're not blind, falling asleep with your face into the sun like that. You're sure nothing's wrong? We were worried. No one knew where you'd gone."
Ruari'd seen him, he was sure of that, but Ruari might have his own reasons for not speaking up. Assuming the scum had survived the afternoon himself. The scrub where he'd been losing regularly was deserted and, come to think of it, the air was thick with the smells of what might be a memorable supper.
A nap and the honey-ale had done him good. His stomach churned with healthy hunger and for the first time since Ruari'd poisoned him, his mouth didn't taste of kivit musk.
"I'm hale and hearty. There was nothing to do. so I fell asleep. Templars do that, you know. It's part of our training. Keeps us from killing each other when there's no rabble-scum around to harass."
His eyes bad adjusted to the sunset light. He watched as Akashia rocked back on her heel with her brows pulled into a sharp-angle over her eyes and her lips pursed in a frown. She must think he was sun-struck-and maybe he was: he couldn't come up with another explanation for that eruption of yellow-robe humor. He wasn't known for his quick wit.
With a hapless little shrug that only deepened her frown, he tried to stand. But he'd slept all afternoon with his legs crossed in front of him. His knees were stiff, his ankles were numb. He got halfway up, then collapsed again with an embarrassing thud.
"You're sure you're all right. You didn't eat anything, again, did you?"
He swore under his breath-another thing he'd managed not to do in front of her since they'd arrived in Quraite. She scrabbled backward with a hand pressed against her mouth. Pure reflex, he swore again and, more carefully this time, hauled himself upright. One foot felt like it was buried in hot coals. He leaned against the tree, waiting for the agony to subside.
"I haven't eaten enough to feed a jozhal since you know when. That's the problem, Kashi-" he swore a third time and turned away. It was true: he was light-headed from the ale, the sun, and not eating, but that was no excuse. He didn't call Akashia by her familiar name, any more than he called Telhami Grandmother. "Just forget it. I drank too much. Forget everything I've said since I opened my eyes."
"Flandoren says he only filled your mug twice-"
She reached for his mug and had it in her hand before he made a move to stop her. She ran her finger along the rim, then held it tentatively to her lips.
"Ruari's got nothing to do with this! He spent the whole day playing the fool for his mother's respectable relations." The mug rolled out of Akashia's limp hand. Pavek considered finding a rock and bashing himself into unconsciousness. But that would have involved walking, and his deceitfully burning foot wasn't ready to bear his weight
He dangled a helping hand arm in front of her face. She ignored it, and all he could see was the top of her head and her shoulders, which were shaking.
"What happened? Did that half-wit scum get his fool self hurt?" he was too frustrated for false compassion.
"He was with the elves when Grandmother asked if he knew where you were. It was the wrong question to ask, I guess. Not really a question, an accusation. He was dirty and battered. She thought-we all thought-the elves he was with started laughing, and he just ran off."
Pavek swore again, and this time Akashia echoed his words. She took hold of his wrist, but got to her feet without his help.
"I'll find him and apologize. I should have known better. Maybe if you-?" She raised her eyes to meet his.
He shook his head, there'd be nothing but disaster if he took her well-meaning suggestion. "Leave him be. Let him nurse his anger and his pride awhile; he's earned the right."
"You're sure?"
Pavek shrugged; he wasn't sure about anything, but when he was that age, and even now, when things went sour he preferred to be alone.
"You understand Ruari better than the rest of us together -because you're... If only he didn't hate you so much. If he could talk to you-?"
"Tomorrow," he said instead of another bitter oath. "I'll talk to him tomorrow morning."
There was a whole night between now and tomorrow. Anything could happen. He might bite off his tongue, but first he desperately wanted to eat. The smells of supper were growing stronger with every breath, and the nerves in his foot had calmed enough that he could walk without limping, which he began to do.
"No!" Akashia said urgently. "Not tomorrow morning-"
He turned around, knowing that he was impatient and annoyed, and that it showed in his expression. "Isn't having me talk to Ruari less important than a magic lesson?" he asked sourly.
"No, that's why I was looking for you. Grandmother wants to talk with you about zarneeka tomorrow morning, as soon as the Moonracers leave. It's worse than you thought: Andorwen says that Laq was sold in the market at Nibenay-until the Shadow-King found out and had everyone driven off and their stalls burnt to the ground. Andorwen says the Moonracers won't trade in Nibenay anymore, nor will any other tribe. He said that the elves knew that the Laq had come from Urik, and that they let everyone in Nibenay know before they left. He said they were going to shut down the Urik market, too."