He was a lead investigator now; the brown uniform was a little less scary than it had been when he first started training, but it was still the brown uniform, transforming him into something larger and distant, and even after years she was still getting used to it. He was wearing it now, which meant he was on the way out to a case. He didn’t seem too grim about it, but then again he wouldn’t.

“You okay, Enid?” he asked, as she was hanging laundry to dry, fast as she could. Dak was down in the square giving music lessons to kids. They were going to have dinner together later. But if she could get free a little early . . .

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, not looking up. “Where you off to?”

“North this time, to Hel. Shouldn’t take long.”

“Can you talk about the case?”

“I’d rather not yet.” He lingered, watching her. Studying her.

“What is it?” she said, pausing to look at him.

“You’ve made a friend,” Tomas said.

Enid blushed so hard, her face hurt. Went back to hanging shirts and towels, quickly, with intense focus.

“As long as you’re having fun. Just be careful. He’s not likely to stick around.”

“I know that,” she said, indignant. Tomas was in a lecturing mood. But still, a brief panic rattled her. When would Dak leave? How long did she have? Would it be unreasonable to spend every moment with him until then? Chores could wait.

“You know he probably has lovers in every town up and down the Coast Road.”

Now Tomas was just pestering her.

“So? That’s his business,” she said, trying to sound mature and worldly, but her tone was petulant. Defensive. She realized she didn’t know anything about Dak except that he could sing better than anyone and she loved every bit of him, down to every last pore. Because she was finished with the laundry, and because she wasn’t willing to wait to see how else Tomas could tease her, she stormed off, empty laundry basket propped against her hip.

Dak planned to leave the next morning, it turned out. He was properly apologetic, properly attentive. They had a picnic dinner in the orchard, the heady scent of ripening apples and hot summer air lingering. Someone had given him a bottle of mead for his singing, and they sipped at it. He lounged against a tree and held her tight against him, stroking her hair, making her feel as loved as she could wish. And at least he told her he was leaving. He could have just left without a word while she raced all over Haven looking for him, and people would regard her with pity.

“Are you sure you can’t stay? Plenty has room, I know we do. You . . . you could stay.” And she imagined the dozens, the hundreds of other lovers up and down the Coast Road, all telling him the same thing.

“I’m not really the settling-down type, Enid. You know that. Folk up the road will be looking for me.”

She’d only known him for a week, and yes she knew that about him. “Doesn’t hurt to ask. Where you from, anyway? You have a household to go back to, to winter over, maybe?”

He shrugged, pursed his lips. Glanced away like he did when he was trying to remember the next song or story. “Oh, it’s just a little place. A little bit south and a little bit east. Or maybe a lot south and a lot east. Been a while since I’ve been back there.” His gaze returned to her and his smile went back to charming.

“Any family?”

He shrugged again. “As much as anyone, I suppose.”

And that was that, he wasn’t going to tell her, or he didn’t want to. Maybe something terrible had happened. It seemed sad, not having a household of one’s own.

She said, “I just want to make sure you have someplace to go to. If you need it. You can’t wander forever.”

“You’d be surprised.” He kissed her gently. “I’ll be back this way. I promise.”

That was enough for her. But then it would have to be, wouldn’t it? So they made passionate, satisfying love under the trees. It was still new, and she wanted more. She could see how practicing would make it even better. Dak sent her back to Plenty in the foggy late hours of night. In the morning he was gone. She didn’t go looking for him.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////

But he did come back.

Autumn market this time, just a month or so later. Once again, Enid heard his voice in the town square before she saw him, and her heart nearly stopped. She approached cautiously, getting it into her head that he wouldn’t remember her, that he would ignore her if he did. That he wouldn’t care, and he wouldn’t want to carry on with her. All she wanted was to kiss him; she was aching for it.

He was sitting on the same stool in the clearing outside the market, playing the same black-lacquered guitar. A new song this time, one she hadn’t heard last time—and how many songs did he know? She leaned up by the same tree, crossed her arms, and waited.

When he looked across his audience, he saw her. And he smiled. Might even have hitched a note in the song he was playing. Finished the song, slung his guitar over his shoulder, and rushed up to her. Touched her cheek and kissed her till her hands clenched into the fabric of his shirt.

Tags: Carrie Vaughn The Bannerless Saga Science Fiction
Source: readsnovelonline.net