His eyes opened and the sight that greeted them was a rather pleasant surprise.
On the mattress beside his arm was a puddle of red and gold hair, tousled and tangled above a peacefully slumbering face. Moving his hand took more effort than he’d dreamed possible, but he was able to raise it and touch her cheek.
Clouds and waving grass and heat of the sun. Little flowers, yellow and pink, the flash of white teeth in a sun-browned face. Dark hair ruffled by the wind and green eyes crinkled in laughter. Horse, dust, leather. Steady heartbeat against her back…
He trailed one finger along the petal-soft skin of her jaw. Oh yes, he’d definitely woken up to worse views than this.
Enari started and sat up quickly, blinking in bewilderment for a few seconds before her eyes cleared, darted to the mirror, then back to his face. A dark head popped into view from the floor beside her chair, and Kylan’s shriek of delight nearly deafened them both.
“Finally!” she exclaimed, and began to cry.
The door opened and Eryk stuck his head in. He, too, looked pleased and relieved.
Jex glanced between the three faces in total confusion. He lay in a bed he’d only slept in once or twice before and he felt like someone had beaten him. Either that, or he was dead and this was what a hangover in Diu felt like. His head pounded dully, his throat burned, his body ached, and he was absolutely starving.
When he tried to sit up, he found that he lacked the strength. Enari’s cool hand touched his bare shoulder fleetingly and he turned his head to look at her. He could manage that much movement, at least. She put a glass to his parched lips, but pulled it back when he tried to take it from her, shaking her head. He gave in with a grumble and drank gratefully when she offered a second time. She allowed only a few sips before returning it to the table and he pouted at her, still thirsty.
“It’s good to see you finally awake,” Eryk said, coming in to sit on the edge of the bedside table. His niece leaned against his knee and he absently petted her hair as she wiped her face on the hem of his shirt. “We were beginning to worry.”
“What—” it came out a barely audible rasp and Jex cleared his throat. It hurt, but when he spoke his voice was stronger, “What are you talking about?”
“How much do you remember?” Eryk asked him, “Or rather, what’s the last thing you remember?”
Jex considered, then shook his head. “Not much. After I started getting sick, things are pretty hazy.”
“You were in bad shape when you got here and you’ve been unconscious or asleep for ten days now.”
Jex closed his eyes as his sense of time clicked sharply back into place. Ten days? He probably should be dead, but seeing as he was alive enough to feel how much everything hurt... And on another note, who had…
“Enari’s been taking care of you,” Kylan offered before he could finish the thought, “She let me help, but only sometimes.” The little girl giggled. “You snore and talk in your sleep, Jex. The words are funny and no one understands them. Not even Uncle Eryk.”
It was then that Jex became acutely aware of his nakedness beneath the single, suddenly flimsy sheet. His eyes met Enari’s and both their faces heated in understanding of the fact. He looked away first, but not before he caught the way her eyes flicked to the vanity mirror and back.
* * *
She wasn’t sure what to do. Whenever Jex fell asleep, which was every few hours now, the crawling black haze grew darker and stronger, like it was feeding on him and could only do so while he was unconscious.
They thought she was mad. Enari could see it in the furtive, worried glances they gave her when they thought she wasn’t looking. None of them could perceive what she saw: not in the mirror and not when they touched him, and she knew of no way to show them.
So she turned to the Imperial library for guidance. It was the largest collection of knowledge in the three kingdoms and housed a copy of many of the books one would find at Turris Arcana and the Cyrilan Temple.
The place was immense, dim, and best of all, nearly deserted. It was one of the few rooms in the palace to take up more than one floor and its center was open, overlooked by a second and then a third level. Every moment her increasingly demanding patient allowed, Enari wandered the stacks, a small and forlorn phantom passing through patches of light and shade. The library was an easy place to lose oneself, and she did so quickly and with a certain feeling of liberation. A few times, she saw other patrons and monks in gray, but none were ever close. Her unhappiness diminished to nothing more than a dull ache as she scanned the titles in row upon row, case upon case, floor upon floor, of books.
She poured over every morsel she could find about magical rites and curses, both theoretical and practical. Everything pointed her in one obscure way or another to a tome called The Seventh Door, but it turned out to be the one book she couldn’t get her hands on. It had gone missing sometime in the past month, but no one knew exactly when. Servants, guards, and library assistants had been questioned at length, but none seemed to know anything of importance. So she was left to follow whatever leads she could turn up, and they weren’t painting a very helpful picture thus far.
As she climbed the stairs to the third floor, mulling over Jex’s most recent outburst of petulance, she thought she heard someone call her name. The summons was faint, almost a whisper, but when it came a second time, she knew it hadn’t been her imagination. Gathering her skirts, she hurried up the last of the marble steps.
The quiet voice drew her on and it was as she was passing a dark corner that she felt a touch on her arm. She whirled, only to find herself alone. The hairs at the nape of her neck stood on end and she had the distinct impression she was being watched, but there was not a soul in sight.
The book had been on the topmost shelf of an ancient-looking glass fronted case and, being the only spine in the row without a soft coating of dust, had immediately caught her eye. Coran did his best to keep all the tomes clean and in good repair, but the library was just too vast for his efforts to be completely effective, with or without an army of assistants.
She’d had to find a stool to stand on in order to retrieve it, and even then, her reaching fingers had been several inches shy of their goal. Looking around furtively and still seeing no one, she’d stepped from the stool onto one of the shelves, praying silently to the Goddess that her weight wouldn’t bring the whole thing down on top of her.
Standing on the cabinet’s middle shelf, she was just able to pull the book toward her with the very tips of her fingers. It was a large volume, bound in brilliant red leather with lettering done in gold leaf. It was nearly as thick as her palm was wide and she needed both hands to carry it.
After safely acquiring her prize, Treatise Maldicta, Enari retreated to a window ledge and begun to read. While it might not have been the tome she was seeking, it shed enough light on the subject to confirm her worst suspicions. She didn’t stop for hours, and the more she read, the colder she felt. By the time she finally glanced up, only a quarter of the way through the Treatise, it was nearing noon and she knew her charge would be waiting for his meal.
* * *
“Kvinna Vasi says you’re good practice,” Kylan declared. She was sitting cross legged on the bed beside him, a half-finished book in her lap. He’d declined her offer of reading aloud for the first time in days.
“Fantastic,” Jex griped, “Is she hoping you’ll kill me so she won’t have to keep coming to look in anymore?”
Enari’s face flushed scarlet and she turned away from them, focusing her attention on something he felt certain was going to make him even more miserable.
Kylan slapped at his leg. “Stop it! She’s been really nice to you. I wish someone was that nice to me when I’m sick!”
“You’re a daughter of the Imperial house. They have to be nice to you,” he retorted, “I’m just a mage with a big mouth. They clearly don’t care what happens to me.” He shifted restlessly and turned over with a groan. “Can I get up yet, Novice Namelum?”
Enari stubbornly ignored him. This was a battle of wills that had been going on since he woke a week ago.
Kylan rolled her eyes and started to get off the bed. “You are the meanest, grouchiest person in the whole palace right now. Sarene is better company than you and she’s having her monthly! I’m going back to Mama’s room.”
“I don’t think your sister would like you sharing that with everyone, Kylan. That’s generally something a woman considers her private business. Also, we have lessons,” he reminded her. Bed ridden or not, it had been determined he was well enough for that duty at least.
“Not when you’re being cantankerous.” She put her back firmly to Jex and addressed Enari instead, “I like that word, ‘cantankerous’. I read it the other day and I think it fits him.” She flounced out, taking the only book with her.
Jex heaved a noisy sigh of irritation.
Enari came to the bed, a cup in one hand and a kit in the other. He knew that the cup would contain a potion of one degree of nastiness or another, though unlike Vasi or the infrequently-seen Master Illyrian, she made attempts to camouflage the vile taste. The box would hold liniments for a variety of his bits and pieces and leave him smelling like a flower or some kind of fruit. Just as Vasi had threatened, there was even one that smelled like an old lady’s sachet.
Enari had only used that on him the once and she’d done it in retaliation for an admittedly childish prank.``
Out of sheer boredom one afternoon, he’d projected the image of a large spider crawling up her sleeve and she’d spilled an entire basin of water on herself trying to slap it away. When he started to laugh, he lost his concentration and the thing vanished. Upon discovering it wasn’t real, she’d lost her temper for the first time that he’d seen and what came next caused him to immediately regret provoking her.
Eyes blazing in a fury that was rather enticing, she’d dug out the most horrendous smelling poultice she could find and he’d been helpless to stop her from using it. He’d later been informed his indignant shouting was heard in the kitchens three levels down and his choice of language had not been appreciated.
“You know, I can do this myself. I don’t need a nursemaid.”
Enari’s shoulders stiffened in frustration and she squeezed her eyes shut. Her lips moved soundlessly, something he hadn’t seen her do before, and he realized she was counting. It didn’t seem to help.
Setting the cup down on the bedside table hard enough to slosh a little liquid over the rim, she reached for the light dressing on his chest. The rash had subsided, much to his relief, leaving only a few bumps here and there that looked more like insect bites than something dreamt up by a plague demon. When she pulled the bandages away, she did so with less care than usual and they took some hair with them, making him flinch.
“Nani.” He reached out and caught her wrist. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged, still not looking at his face and twin spots of color remained on her cheeks. A single tear dripped onto his bare skin and she brushed angrily at her face.
“Perfect, you ass, you’ve made her cry. Some gentleman you are.” Aloud, he said, “I know this isn’t your fault, and it’s childish of me to take it out on you. I’m sure you’d rather be doing something other than caring for a peevish, ungrateful mage. I am sorry.”
She waved a hand vaguely at him and started rummaging in the kit, but he tugged on her sleeve until she sat beside him.
“Look at me,” he ordered gently. She shook her head.
“Nani, come on. I said I was sorry!” He was starting to get irritated again. Part of him knew he was being irrational, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He’d never done well on bed rest of any duration, and it was hot as Plamen’s forge in this damned room. He released her and thumped his head back against the pillows, which did nothing positive for his growing headache.
Enari jumped up and, in her haste, tipped over the box. The small pots and jars spilled out and rolled off the bed. She snatched at them and knocked against the table in the process. The cup teetered and fell to the floor, shattering in a spray of porcelain shards and hot tea. The brown contents began seeping into the carpet in a widening puddle as a few of the jars rolled away under various furnishings. Enari grabbed a towel and knelt to begin sopping up the mess. He could see tears falling in earnest now.
Eryk picked that moment to check in on him. He looked at the two of them and dismissed Enari with all the gentleness he could. The girl dropped the soaked cloth and fled the room, a pricked forefinger firmly in her mouth.
He contemplated the mess and the angry mage in silence.
“Don’t look at me like that!” Jex snarled.
“Are you truly so desperate for solitude?” Eryk asked mildly, leaning against the jamb.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, in the course of five minutes, you’ve managed to drive off two of the people who are the most concerned about you. I think that’s a personal best.”
“Shut it.”
“Jex, I know you’re bored, and tired of being in bed—”
“Don’t forget how hot it is in here,” he muttered.
Eryk continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “—but that’s no excuse for taking your frustrations out on those girls.”
“I know.” While he sounded contrite, his expression was still one of complete contrariness.
“I’ve spoken with Vasi and Master Illyrian. They think you can be up and around in the next day or two.”
“Thank the Goddess.”
“Indeed. Believe me, we’re all more than ready,” Eryk growled, “I suggest you take some time to consider how to thank Enari for her care and patience. Andehai knows she’s had far more of it than any of the rest of us.”
Jex turned his face away resentfully, but not before Eryk saw a hint of shame cross his features.
He continued more kindly, “She’s homesick, Jex, and in a strange place. Other than Vasi, the girl knows no one here but you and you’ve just shown her that she is unwelcome. Think on it.”
“Any other sage suggestions you’d like to offer?”
“Yes, actually. You might also want to ask her what’s spooked her so badly.”
Jex rolled to face Eryk, foul mood forgotten. “You mean the thing she does with the mirror?”
“Aye.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s found it odd. It’s like she sees something in it that terrifies her. Something the rest of us can’t see.” He paused. “You can’t see anything, right?”
“Not a thing, other than your sullen reflection. Ask her.”
“Why me?”
Eryk rubbed his face. “Because you’re the only one she seems willing to even make eye contact with. Let me know if she tells you anything.”
He turned away, letting the door close soundly behind him and Jex was alone.
And thirsty.
Cursing at the brown puddle on the floor and then at the broken cup, he began struggling his way out of bed.
* * *
Enari ran, fighting the tears down as she went. She knew he hadn’t meant to be unkind, but his tone and scathing comments had finally demolished the wall she’d been carefully constructing around her emotions. The loneliness and homesickness had been steadily building since leaving the Temple and today had just been too much. She missed her small east-facing room in the corner tower, the familiar courtyards and trees of the Temple, her books.
She wanted to go home and Consorts take this horridly crowded, hot, dusty place.
After a time, she found herself on one of the many terraces overlooking the city. A fountain stood in the center, sunlight glimmering across the serenely flowing water. Enari went to one corner and curled up on a padded bench, chin resting on her knees as she stared out over the patchwork of color that was Trigon Market.
Torina Anya found her there hours later, still staring vacantly at the horizon, her face hidden behind a curtain of loose hair.
“May I sit with you?” she asked, speaking quietly and halting far enough away to not startle the girl.
When she received a small nod, she settled onto the near end of the bench and reached out a hand, sweeping the hair away and revealing a blotchy and tear-stained face. Some women could cry and look beautiful, but she and Enari were not those women. The poor thing looked wretched, exhausted, and miserable.
“I heard what happened. Are you alright?”
Enari shrugged carelessly, but felt a little of her earlier sadness creeping back at the reminder. She had to return to him eventually and didn’t know what to expect. Would he still be upset?
“You know,” Anya mused, “He isn’t actually angry with you. He’s unhappy at his…oh, helplessness, I suppose. Men don’t like to appear weak in front of a woman they admire. My father’s the same way, but not so childish as Battlemage Xander has been. I suspect the difference has to do with age. They feel like it takes something important away from them, to be seen as less than invincible.”
Enari pondered her words, but couldn’t think how her caring for him while he was ill, through no fault of his own that she could tell, would possibly make him feel diminished in any way. Until today, at least, she’d thought he preferred her to Vasi or Master Illyrian and might even enjoy her company.
“I know it may seem like an odd thing, him being supposedly a man grown, but I suspect our battlemage is embarrassed. He’s been forced to lie in bed and have an attractive young lady take care of him as if he were an infant. He has a touchy sense of pride, I think, and you see him every day in a way I suspect no one except for his mother probably ever has.”
When she received a look of skeptical disbelief, she went on, “Treat him like a person, not just a patient, and bribe him if you must. I hear he’s very fond of coffee. That might also be an excellent way of giving him whatever medicine he’s so reluctant to take. Everyone grows tired of hearing his protests, so anything you can do would be most welcome.”
The advice made her smile. Anya would make an excellent Abdessa someday; she always seemed to know the exact right thing to say in any situation and her levity was well-timed. Enari found that she took an enormous amount of pleasure at the thought of getting Jex to comply by bribing him or tricking him. It was a devious ploy and she loved it.
Anya patted her knee and rose, smoothing the wrinkles from her skirt. “Think on what I’ve said, Enari. Also, I want you to know you’re not alone here. Come and see me whenever you like. You and Vasi brought something of home with you that I’ve missed very much and I would enjoy your company.”
* * *
Jex was dozing when she returned that evening and someone had cleaned up the mess from the carpet, though not well. She eased the door closed behind her and crossed the room on silent feet, not wanting to wake him and risk any further unpleasantness. She folded herself into the big chair by the window to take advantage of the fading daylight and opened her book. She should really be reading the Treatise Maldicta, but just couldn’t bring herself to wade through the arcane and often confusing text and had decided on another to pass the time.
In a moment, she was lost in the pages of Dragons in the Mist. Early evening deepened to twilight and she reluctantly pulled herself from the story long enough to light a candle and get something to drink before falling in again.
“What are you reading?”
The question startled her and she looked up sharply, nearly dropping the book. Her candle had burned down to a smoking puddle of wax, the remainder of the wick barely able to hold a tiny flame, and it was dark beyond the window. Her neck popped when she moved her head and she grimaced at the stiffness in her shoulders. The boning of her corset dug into her painfully and she jerked at it in annoyance.
Jex was watching her from the dimness, trying not to smile. While she slept, he had gotten up and dressed himself, a laborious but rewarding task after so long. He sat in a chair across the bed from her, a steaming mug in one hand.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized. He offered her a tentative smile, rife with remorse, and she returned it with a smile of her own, though it was distorted at the last by a yawn.
“Go on to bed, Nani. I promise not to pour the evil tea out the window while you’re gone,” he joked, taking a sip and making an exaggerated face. “The tora would have my hide when it killed her lovely flowers and I’m far too handsome to die that way, don’t you think?”
Just like that, the ugliness of the afternoon seemed to never have happened.
“I could fix that for you, if you like. Make it less uncomfortable to wear and no one would ever be the wiser,” he offered when she stood up, tugging at the side of her gown again.
She tilted her head quizzically, hand still clutched around the fabric.
“The corset,” he elaborated.
Enari looked utterly mortified. His offer was completely and totally inappropriate and she knew it, but…Goddess the thing was torture. If there was anything at all he could do to make it even a little more bearable to wear, she’d let him.
Cheeks still flaming with embarrassment, she nodded.
“I’ll need a knife, and you’ll have to take the top of your dress down.”
She brought him the knife and began to unlace her bodice. He could see her fingers trembling just a little as she worked the ribbons loose.
“Turn around and I’ll get the back first,” he instructed.
Enari complied, clutching the front of her gown over her chest. She felt his hands grip the bottom edge of the corset and tug to make a gap that was just wide enough for his fingers. There was the sound of ripping fabric as the blade parted a seam and she almost fell over backwards when he jerked the slender bit of boning down and out. He repeated the action, a hand on her hip turning her as he went and she was at last forced to lower her gown completely to give him access to the two stays in the front.
Once the last was removed, she took an experimental breath and smiled hugely when she didn’t feel nearly so…compressed.
“There’s something else—” His words were cut off by her mouth on his.
The kiss surprised them both. Enari hadn’t known she was going to do it until her lips were against his and she couldn’t explain to herself later what possessed her to be so bold. His fingers spasmed on her waist in shock, but he recovered quickly and pulled her close with a pleased murmur. She was warm and sweet and innocent, yet beneath the surface bubbled an inviting sensuality that he hadn’t expected. He cupped her face in both hands, brushing his thumbs delicately over her cheeks as he deepened the kiss.
Then it was over and Enari pulled away, eyes saucer-wide and skin flushed pink. One hand flew up to cover her reddened mouth and Jex laughed throatily.
“Well, you’re quite welcome.”
He helped her fix her gown and before she could withdraw, he took her hand and pulled her down onto his knee.
“Before you go, I’d like to talk to you about something.” His tone was casual, but his arm around her waist was firm and unyielding. “Well, a couple of somethings.”
Whatever it was he wanted, she wasn’t going to be able to run away from it. So she waited for him to elaborate. It took him far longer than she expected, and he wouldn’t look at her.
“I’m wondering if you’ll tell me what you see in the mirror?” he asked at length, “I know you can’t tell me, but will you show me? You have before, though I doubt you meant to. I wasn’t expecting it when it happened and I imagine my mind was as wide open as yours. I’m sorry if it was overwhelming.”
When she looked at him blankly, he continued guardedly, not sure how she was going to take his revelation. He’d been led to understand that the Temple didn’t test its novices for magical talent, so telling her she had a rather substantial gift would likely come as a surprise. Not necessarily a pleasant one, either.
“I have a little gift with psychomancy, which makes it easier to recognize in others and I suspect you have more than a trifling talent for it. I’ll admit, I’ve never linked with an untrained psychomancer and it was…” he made a face, “very loud.”
It had been loud. And disorienting. She was glad it hadn’t happened with anyone but Jex and only the once. She couldn’t imagine experiencing that kind of onslaught every time she was touched.
“If you’ll let me in, I can help,” he offered solemnly. He was asking to let him enter into a very private place and would understand if she refused him.
She nodded once, very slowly.
“Nani, you needn’t do this if you’d rather not,” he reassured her, “I would never do anything you didn’t want me to do and if there’s something you don’t want me to see, just imagine it behind a closed door. I’ll respect that. Are you sure this is alright?”
Her nod was firm this time and she even smiled a little. Jex took her hands in his and raised them, planting a feather-light kiss on the tips of her fingers before pressing them against his temples. He mirrored the gesture, then tilted his head down so his forehead rested against hers. Even with her practically in his lap, he had to bend forward to reach. The head-touching bit wasn’t strictly necessary, but it made a deliberate link easier to open in the beginning stages.
And, if he was being completely honest, he enjoyed the physical contact with her.
Enari was, at first, acutely conscious of how close he was, but the discomfort faded quickly. He’d shaved in addition to dressing, she noted as her palms brushed smooth skin, and she could smell a faint hint of soap. His hair fell softly against the backs of her hands and his skin held a hint of fever still. She felt the pulse of his life’s blood beating under her fingertips and that was the most markedly intimate aspect of all.
Her breath was warm as it passed across his face and he could smell the tea she’d been drinking earlier, as well as an arousing, spicy scent that was uniquely hers. His nostrils flared, taking her in and cataloguing her; the clean smells of sun and linen, a faint tang of sweat, and lilacs. Her skin was like silk heated by the spring sun and strands of hair tickled his wrist.
Their eyelids dropped at the same time and they were lost.
It was far easier than he expected to gain entrance to her mind and, prepared as she was this time, she responded more like a practiced psychomancer. Her innate gift was stronger than he’d anticipated.
The physical sensations suddenly dimmed beneath the burgeoning mental connection. They sensed one another as colors and music and textures and things less distinct. There were tastes, too, and that was strange. He tasted like dust, tears, smoke, and power both wild and dark. She was the burn of mint, the bitter sweetness of dark chocolate, summer rain and the sizzle of lightning. Unable to stop himself, he delved deeper into her mind, seeking that last and the images it conjured. He found not a single closed door to impede his progress and was humbled by her trust.
“I thought you wanted to see what was in the mirror.”
Her mental voice startled him so badly he almost lost the connection altogether. Silvery laughter echoed in his head as she picked up on his surprise.
“Look, if you wish, but you’re not going to like it.”
She was right, and what she showed him turned his blood to ice.
Some of it only made a little sense, like a half-remembered fever dream, and that could have been because everything he saw was colored by her own fear. That simply added to the nightmarish quality.
“What exactly is going on here!”
The link fractured like a dropped crystal vase and there was pain in the breaking. Jex felt a jagged stab of White-hot agony shoot through his skull and Enari slumped against him for a second, fingernails digging into his scalp.
They turned to find Vasi in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. The look she was giving Jex promised unpleasant things in his near future. He’d come to recognize that particular expression and knew it would be in his best interest to tread carefully, and with as much respect as he could muster.
“This, it’s not what it looks like, Vasi,” he stammered. Too late, he realized Enari was still in his lap and that his arms had linked themselves loosely around her waist.
“Then you’d better start explaining yourself, because I don’t think you want to know what it looked like from here.” Her voice was very calm and that worried him more than the clenched muscles of her jaw.
“I wanted to know what she keeps seeing in the mirror when she looks at me and this was the only way I could think of to find out. Also, did you know she has the gift for psychomancy? Strong enough that she probably could’ve trained at the Tower, actually.” The words tumbled over themselves in his haste to expel the