Cold Steel (Spiritwalker 3)

Brennan tucked a hand under Vai’s elbow. “Magister, I think you need to listen to what Professora Nayo Kuti is saying.”

“Is Catherine going with you?”

Bee grabbed my braid to let me know she would yank my head off if I said anything, for apparently I was not to be allowed to go. No doubt they feared Andevai would lure me into an out-of-the-way corner and melt me with kisses, but I was made of sterner stuff than that!

Kehinde indicated the others. “Brennan and Bee will accompany me. Chartji as well. That will give you an opportunity to discuss your business with your solicitor, will it not?”

For the space of five full breaths he stared at me, willing me to speak. Under the table Bee pressed a foot down on top of mine. Trapped between her hand and her foot, I said nothing.

He shook his head as if shaking off drops of rain. “Very well. If that is what is required. There are some lads out on the street watching my horse. Shall I stable it here, or take it along?”

After it was agreed he ought to stable it, he went to make the arrangements. Rory and I carried the basket and leather bag up to the room.

Rory said, “They mean to leave me here so you won’t be alone, Cat, but I know how to handle Vai better than the others do. If you don’t mind, I’ll go with them.”

“Maybe if we had handled him less and kicked him more, he might not so easily fall back into his unpleasant old habits.”

“I don’t know,” mused Rory, “for I am sure he stopped himself from saying at least eleven cutting and cruel things just now. That he sat there and let them dictate to him shows he is listening, however little it may seem to someone who does not know him.”

“How do you know people so well, Rory?”

He smiled. “People are easy to know. Human-people are emotional and hierarchical. Feathered-people are inquisitive and acquisitive.”

I rested my head in my hands. “What are our kind of people?”

“I just enjoy being here.” He patted my shoulder. “As for you, Cat, you are always struggling with all the different parts of you. You have your mother’s loyalty and strength, and your stepfather’s bold curiosity and love of stories. You have our sire’s instincts, which is why you like to hunt and fight and be petted, but it’s also why Vai can melt you with kisses when you really ought to be pushing him back a step so he can stop and think. I expect that in the mage House, the more he sensed you were uncomfortable and displeased with a situation he was increasingly attracted by—being heir—the more he exerted himself to please you in other ways.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right!” He kissed my forehead.

Left alone, I apologized to the cacica as I lifted the skull out of the basket and made an offering of the last of the ale, when she ought to have been offered the first. The leather bag disgorged my wonderful riding clothes and boots, a sewing kit Vai had obviously obtained knowing I would want it, and my toiletries. The sight of these items wearied me beyond measure because they forced me to contemplate a life without Andevai. I lay down on the bed and promptly dozed off. Voices frayed in my dreams, only to dissolve into a remarkably erotic dream that woke me sweating.

The room was dim. Beyond, the tavern buzzed at full pitch. Knowing there were trolls about, I left my sword tucked under the mattress. I wrapped myself in shadows and crept downstairs. Twilight danced into evening. Lamps burned everywhere. I spotted Vai and the others as they walked in and washed up at the altar set out for ablutions and offerings. They settled at a table set up in an alcove at the far side of the trolls’ courtyard, tucked next to the archway that led out to the street and thus as far from the kitchens as possible. A lamp set at Chartji’s left arm lit the table. Something about trolls throttled Vai’s cold magic around them, just as dragons had.

Vai had his back to me, so he did not see me pad up behind them. Such breeze as there was blew into my face, so Rory, sitting beside Vai, could not smell me. Vai was laughing at something Rory had just said. His sociable demeanor made him seem another man, the one I had gotten to know in Expedition, the one whose embraces I cherished, the one I loved.

“Show me the ice lenses again,” said Kehinde with a pleasant smile she had certainly not displayed earlier. “I’m amazed Chartji brought them all the way from Havery packed in straw and moss and they did not melt.”

He fished out three leather cords and pulled one off over his head, handing it to Kehinde. “This one is likely flawed, but the other two should work.”

“Does the mansa know about the ice lenses?” Bee asked sharply.

He glanced down, shoulders tensing. Rory nudged Vai with his knee.

“No, the mansa does not know,” said Vai stiffly.

“Are you going to tell him?” Bee pressed.

His chin came up, but remarkably his voice remained level. “Not yet. If I have to face James Drake, I will need the ice lens. And I plan to face him. All of you realize, don’t you, that allowing Catherine to go after him is a death sentence for her?”

“Having seen Cat in a fight—” began Brennan.

“Catherine can certainly take care of herself in a fight. Or against an ocean full of sharks, for that matter. You simply do not comprehend the dangers of dealing with a fully fledged fire mage. Drake almost killed her once. Lord of All, Beatrice. You ought to know better! You saw how she was burned.”

“It’s true,” Bee muttered.

Kehinde twirled the lens as she examined its icy gleam. “May I touch it, or will the warmth of my skin distort the lens?”