Breath of Winter, A (15 page)

Henri watched me watching my brother. “What are your plans?”

To sit here while the cure bubbled, but I could hardly say as much in front of Fynn.

“I was thinking of giving myself that tour of the greenhouse you promised me. Would you mind?”

“Not at all.” He paused before turning to go. “I trust you.”

Why those words tightened my chest, I couldn’t be sure. I bet he didn’t say that often, and never to people like me. He was still making amends, in his way. Worse, I was beginning to welcome it.

Put in his situation, I would have done the same as he had, if not worse, to protect those I loved.

Behind him, Fynn rolled his eyes. Any harder and they would be rattling in his skull.

I folded my arms. “Stop being an arse.”

He made a gesture I was certain meant
up yours
before trailing Henri to the bastille.

The Fynn who rode to Erania with us hadn’t been this affable in a long while. I had forgotten he could be as jovial as Ghedi still pretended to be. His mood was disconcerting enough, but teasing me about Henri? Where had my surly brother of the past few years gone and who had taken his place?

Chapter Eight

Hours into my examination of the greenhouse, which had become appealing after I assured myself for the fifth or sixth time that a watched pot merely continues to bubble, I emerged at the far end of the southland section. Sweat poured down my face, and my shoulder stung miserably. It was a good pain, an agony much easier to endure than the fear gnawing my heart when I thought of Ghedi.

Behind me, the laboratory hatch
click, click, clicked
in rapid succession.

I cocked my head, expecting to hear the chimes. Not that it mattered. I didn’t know how to open the door. Whoever was out there was stuck. But instead a seal popped, followed by heavy footsteps.

“Where is Henri?”

I whirled at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. “Who are you? What are you doing in here?”

The male was of average height but thick with muscle. White-blond hair made me question his age, but there were no wrinkles on his face that I saw, though it was hard to tell beneath his scars.

His gaze swept the room before settling on me. “I could ask you the same.”

Alone I might be, but I was far from unarmed. I clutched my wheels, backing myself closer to where a row of pots steamed and hissed due to no heat source I could see. Gods only knew what was in them, but if he pushed my hand, then we would find out as their contents splashed down his face.

I changed tactics. “Is Henri expecting you?”

He savored his response. “That would be telling.”

“That is the general idea. When I ask a question, it is with the hope it will be answered.”

The male scowled at me and the pots at my elbow. “His letters made you sound so…
nice
.”

“Letters.” I slowed my retreat. “Are you his contact from inside the nest?”

He cocked his head. “Aren’t we all inside the nest?”

Mimicking his oh-so-helpful tone, I clarified, “The side of the nest not host to the plague.”

“Ah.” He blew into his hands then rubbed them together. “How do you know I haven’t just come in from the cold?”

I scoffed. “The exit hatch is well guarded. I have every confidence you couldn’t have breached it without Henri’s say-so. If he had given you permission, which he wouldn’t have, or if one of the guards had given you access, and they wouldn’t have, you would have an escort now, but you don’t.”

Otherwise—key or no key—Asher or Braden would have sank an arrow through his eye socket before allowing that door to be opened while risers were so near.

“Every confidence? That’s a sight more faith than Henri has in his own work. Impressive. It does amaze me the variety of females who get their backs up over him. You realize unless half of his family died, he won’t inherit the nest? His sister or her future children or her brother Armand would rule first. He does have wealth, probably more gold than someone like yourself can imagine. Is it the thought of his purse that warms your bosom?” His smile framed his slender fangs. “What can you hope to gain? You can’t think Maven Lourdes would sell Henri so cheaply. Not one of her own.”

“Granted, I haven’t known Henri long, but I would have noticed a price tag hung around his neck. I doubt his sister or anyone else can sell what they do not own, and Henri is very much his own person.”

“Oh it’s there,” he assured me, “and you aren’t the first not to see it.”

I took a moment before responding. Henri was royalty. My status, well, I had none. Once this all ended and Henri resumed his life, I might be tossed aside in favor of a more suitable female. But if a brush-off was impending, I wanted him to dirty his own hands. Not Lourdes. Not Edan.
Henri.

“As you said, he is in no danger of inheriting the clan or his sister’s duties, so I fail to see what business it is of yours if he and I are friends—or anything else for that matter.” I smiled thinly. “As to the warmth of my bosom, well, it suffices to say that you will die curious of its temperature.”

He made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. “You’re all hiss and spit.”

“Teeth and claws is more like it.” I waved him on. “Come closer and I’ll show you.”

“I don’t think so.” His grin widened. “My wife wouldn’t fancy claw marks on me she didn’t put there herself. Thanks for the offer. I’ll do you a favor and make sure she never learns of it.”

“Ah, how gallant you are. Threatening females
and
keeping secrets from your wife.”

He bowed to me. “If you had met me before Marne made a somewhat honest male of me—”

“—she would know what a right bastard you still are.” Asher’s voice carried from the doorway my visitor had left cracked. “What are you doing here, Edan?”

Edan. The male Braden had complained of substituting his roll with paper. That explained him having a key. At least now I had put a face to his name.

Though Edan stood his ground, Asher kept an eye on him while he made his way to me.

“I came to speak with Henri.” Edan chuckled when Asher placed himself between us.

If Edan’s disdain bothered Asher, he showed no signs of it. In fact, he made a point of removing a dagger similar to the one he had stabbed me with and placing it in my hand where Edan could see.

“Is he expecting you?” Asher asked him.

“What I have to say is for Henri’s ears alone. I won’t leave until I’ve spoken with him, as you’re no doubt aware,” he warned Asher, “so save us all some time and fetch him for me why don’t you?”

“Henri is occupied at the moment.” I indicated a stool against the far wall. “You are, of course, welcome to wait. I expect him to return any time now.” Despite the fact Asher had stabbed me, I still would sooner have him at my back than be left alone with Edan.

“I can wait.” Edan strode to the seat I offered and made himself comfortable.

“That can’t be a good thing,” I whispered to Asher.

“That Edan’s here is bad,” he agreed. “That he’s being polite is worse.”

“Malik went to his room not a half hour after you left.” I glanced at the other hatch, wishing it would open from the force of will I flung at it. “He won’t be long, and then we’ll fetch Henri.”

The stillness Edan exuded was an indication of his focus on our conversation.

“Don’t stare at him.” Asher touched my arm. “He likes the attention.”

“Don’t tell her my secrets,” Edan spoke softly. “Or I might have to tell some of yours.”

“I have no secrets.” Stern as his face was, I believed him.

Chill laughter raised hairs on the back of my neck. “We all do,” Edan said. “The best ones are those we don’t have the sense to keep. The sweetest secrets don’t know that they are secrets.”

“Shut your mouth,” I snapped, “or you’re welcome to leave and come back later.”

“Do you want to share?” His voice went low. “Your secrets are far more interesting than his.”

Cold sweat drenched my back, but I held his gaze. “I said to shut up or go.”

Running a finger over his lips, Edan settled in to wait. He studied me with an intensity that forced me to break eye contact first. There was an edge to his staring that recalled to me nights my brothers and I had spent in cheap taverns when we traveled looking for work. Of barmaids with their hair piled high, their cheeks rouged, their painted lips smiling and their clothing cinched too tight for them to breathe. Of the predatory gleam of the patrons in those bars and the coins they passed under the tables. Mornings were worse. Night’s makeup had washed off and only stark reality remained.

Edan reminded me of those hungry times, of bad things that happened once the lights went out.

Tempted as I was to ask Asher who Edan really was, I was equally sure I didn’t want to know.

“As interesting as this conversation has been,” I said to the room, “I have a job to finish.”

Asher touched my arm. “I’ll help.”

“That’s not—” The set of his jaw silenced me. “Thank you. I appreciate the offer.”

Quickly I considered what I had to do, what Asher would make of it, what the danger was if Edan noticed and made a mental note of what I had done. I weighed all that against my fear the oil might burn if left unattended and the relative certainty no one would see me making an essential oil from dayflowers and bolt out of the nest shouting,
Mercy be, she’s concocted a cure for the plague.

“What’s Henri making this time?” Asher’s disinterested tone heartened me.

“Some type of oil from flowers.” I shrugged. “Perfume’s never been my thing.”

“You don’t seem the type,” he said by way of agreement, which made me scowl.

I was a female even if I refused to smell of flowers or to wear gowns or to glitter.

As I drained the oil for the last time, I disposed of the reduced petals then poured the oil into a large clay bowl I set well away from the heat. Beyond that, I had no idea what came next. All I knew to do I had done. Robbed of work to keep them occupied, my hands trembled. It was ridiculous.

Asher was by my side. Henri, Braden and Fynn were a door away if Edan caused me trouble.

Knowing I was chairbound must be the reason for my rising panic. I vowed right then that I would ask Henri if he could fashion crutches for me. Now that my shoulder was mostly mended, I wanted other options for mobility. I had entertained the notion of asking him for a day or two, but Edan’s arrival gave me the push I needed to force Henri’s hand. He would fight me, but I would win. I had to. Isolation had turned me soft. It was time I shed this pampered skin and returned to my roots.

It was time to meet the plague and its children head-on.

The cure was complete as far as I could tell from Mana’s notes. The one ingredient lacking was a spiritual element. Henri and I were not spirit walkers, and his plants hadn’t blossomed in Salticidae soil. If prayer over the oil was a requirement rather than a suggestion, I hoped Henri bowed his head.

I had nothing to say to the gods my mother wouldn’t box my ears for voicing.

As much as it pained me to acknowledge it, at this point we had done all we could for Ghedi.

It was time we turned our focus to the risers and the threat they posed to the nest and—more immediately—to us. By the time the sound of a lock springing met my ears, I was eager to see Henri.

When he entered the room, he sought me out and gifted me with a lopsided smile that drooped at its edges. I cut my eyes toward our uninvited guest. Henri followed my gaze, and his grin slipped.

“Edan,” he said in greeting.

The male stood and ducked his head. “I would not have come if it were not important.”

The change in his demeanor raised my arm hairs. Asher appeared likewise unnerved.

Henri gestured Edan to rise. “I trust your wait was uneventful?”

A flicker of reluctance passed over Edan’s face. “I was not as polite as I could have been.”

“Show my friends the respect they are due.” Henri bypassed Asher, taking his place by my side.

I slid my hand into his in a show of support.

“I will endeavor to do so in the future,” Edan said smoothly.

Henri squeezed my fingers. “I accept your word in the spirit it was given.”

That made Edan chuckle. “I had no doubt you would.”

“You risked much to come here.” Henri sounded unhappy at the fact.

“I would have risked more to stay away. We must talk. I would prefer to do so face-to-face.” Edan measured him with a glance. “You’re dead on your feet. I figured you would be. I brought a tray of meats and cheeses and a bottle of wine. You can eat while I relay my message.”

My shock at his kindness must have shown because his eyes twinkled with mirth.

Henri’s gaze darted toward his office. “Is Marne with you?”

“Soon.” He glanced that direction too, then back at me. “We plan to wait this out in the city.”

Henri braced his palm on the back of my chair to steady himself. “You aren’t staying?”

“Only long enough to tell you what you must know.” Edan clasped his shoulder. “Don’t worry. You won’t starve. Place your orders as you have been. They will be filled by an associate of mine.”