Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses) (42 page)
Read Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses) Online
Authors: Sharon Shinn
“I don’t know,” she replied. She rested her forehead against his chest, feeling the chilled leather of his coat smooth against her cold skin. He smelled like horse and sweat and something indefinable. Maybe just himself. “My family might not want me to leave her behind. And I would find it hard to abandon her, I admit. She is—she doesn’t always make good decisions. Without someone to watch her, her choices might be even worse.”
“Well, it’s something you should start thinking about,” he said. “How you can leave the convent. And, if you won’t walk out without her, how you can persuade Rosurie to come, too.”
“I’ve thought about writing a letter to my father,” she said. “To tell him it’s time to bring us home. But I’m not sure— well—it’s possible the Lestra has our mail read. I mean, I don’t know that for a fact, but—”
“But it would seem entirely in character,” he finished up. “I can take a letter for you and send it on its way.”
And then be struck dumb when he realized it was directed to her family in the Lirrens. “I don’t have one ready just at the moment,” she said, forcing a light laugh. “Perhaps I will by the next time I see you.”
“And that will be when?”
“I told you, I don’t know.”
“In four or five weeks, maybe,” he said. “If I bring in your next supply of goods.”
She was alarmed. “Justin. Won’t it seem strange if you keep showing up here? Won’t someone notice?”
He shrugged. “Far as I can tell, Jenkins has been hauling goods in for the past six months, and no one seems concerned about
him
. No one should pay any attention to me as long as I behave myself.”
him
. No one should pay any attention to me as long as I behave myself.”
She lifted a hand to his mouth and traced the full lips. “And this is what you call behaving yourself?” she murmured. “Seducing novices under the moonlight?”
He caught her hand in his and pressed a kiss into the palm. “And this is what you call seduction?” he asked. “I must have missed part of it.”
She giggled and tried to free her hand but he held on tighter, sliding his other arm around her waist to hold her in place. His lips moved from her palm up to her fingertips, back to her palm and down to her wrist. The sleeves of her robe fell back; her moonstone bracelet slid down her arm toward her elbow, every glowing gem hot against her skin.
His mouth paused in its travels and his hand closed with unexpected pressure around her fingers. “
Ow
. Justin!”
Ow
. Justin!”
Now he lifted his head and twisted her arm so he could try to see it, but the light was too poor. His grip shifted; he ran his fingertips back and forth over the rough patch of skin encircling her entire wrist. “What’s this?” he asked, his voice quiet but holding a note that struck her as ominous. As if he believed someone had offered her great physical harm and he was determined to discover who. And then set off on a mission to strangle that person or run him through with a sword.
She tried without success to pull her hand away. “What’s what?”
His finger, for a moment, pressed harder against the band of roughened skin. “
This
. You’ve got a scar around the base of your hand. Feels like—doesn’t feel like a knife wound, so I guess nobody tried to slice your hand off. Feels more like a burn.”
This
. You’ve got a scar around the base of your hand. Feels like—doesn’t feel like a knife wound, so I guess nobody tried to slice your hand off. Feels more like a burn.”
She sighed and stopped tugging on her hand. His fingers continued investigating, gentle now, checking for the extent of damage. “That’s what it looks like, too. I wear my sleeves long, so it doesn’t show. And most of the time I try to keep the bracelet off my skin, wearing it outside the cloth of my robe, but sometimes it—”
“Wait,” he interrupted. “Wait. Are you saying your bracelet is burning you? Your moonstones are hot to the touch?”
She felt her heart skip in sudden fear. He knew something she didn’t and he was suddenly, deeply alarmed. “Yes,” she said cautiously. “I just assumed—aren’t they always? Don’t they burn everybody?”
Now he was staring at her in something like horror, and it took her a moment to realize he was not terrified
by
her, but
for
her. “The touch of a moonstone only bothers people with magic in their blood,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “A moonstone will only burn your skin if you’re a mystic.”
by
her, but
for
her. “The touch of a moonstone only bothers people with magic in their blood,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “A moonstone will only burn your skin if you’re a mystic.”
CHAPTER 20
JUSTIN and Jenkins accomplished virtually the entire trip back to Neft without saying a word. The freighter attempted a few conversational gambits, but gave up when Justin didn’t respond; even their stops for food along the way were passed in silence. Not until they reached Jenkins’s barn and property on the edge of town did Justin rouse himself to speak.
“If you need me again, I’d be happy to ride out with you next time you’re going to the convent,” he said, as the freighter counted into his hand the money he’d promised for the job.
“Got a trip up toward Nocklyn Towers later in the week,” Jenkins said hopefully.
Justin shook his head. “Not interested in any route except the one to Lumanen.”
If Jenkins thought that odd, he gave no outward sign. “Well, I might need you at that. I’ll let you know.”
“Appreciate it.”
Justin hiked over to the stables to tell Delz he was back and ready to work. Indeed, he shoveled manure and hauled down hay with more vigor than most men would have mustered after a long ride and a virtually sleepless night. But he had to work off some of the ferocious energy building up in his muscles. His body had braced itself for combat and now had to launch itself into action or explode.
A mystic. By the grace of the Bright Mother,
a mystic
? In Lumanen Convent? That explained Ellynor’s ability to heal sick old Paulina Gisseltess—that explained her eerie skill at practically making herself disappear. That explained almost all of the mysteries about her, but added a whole new layer of conundrums.
a mystic
? In Lumanen Convent? That explained Ellynor’s ability to heal sick old Paulina Gisseltess—that explained her eerie skill at practically making herself disappear. That explained almost all of the mysteries about her, but added a whole new layer of conundrums.
She hadn’t believed him.
Justin, don’t be ridiculous, I’m
not a mystic. I scarcely even understand what that means!
He had tried to explain—
A mystic is merely someone who has been granted magic by the gods, and surely you have
—but she just shook her head and laughed.
I’m not a mystic. I’m an ordinary woman.
Justin, don’t be ridiculous, I’m
not a mystic. I scarcely even understand what that means!
He had tried to explain—
A mystic is merely someone who has been granted magic by the gods, and surely you have
—but she just shook her head and laughed.
I’m not a mystic. I’m an ordinary woman.
In the end, it didn’t matter if she believed him or not, if she acknowledged that her power was in her own blood, and not granted on a random basis by a careless goddess. What mattered was that she understood how much danger she was in now. Real, mortal, immediate danger.
“If the Lestra sees this burn on your arm,” he had told her, speaking slowly and deliberately, “if she knows it was caused by your moonstones, she will believe you are a mystic. If she believes you are a mystic, you will die. Do you understand me, Ellynor? She is on a campaign to systematically eliminate mystics from the realm. It will not stop her that you say you have no magic. It will not stop her that you say you didn’t know. Nothing will stop her. She will kill you. You will be dead. Do you understand me?”
She had understood. She had believed him, and she was frightened. All good things. But she would not, even so, agree to leave as soon as she could gather her clothes and slip out into the darkness. He had urged her to leave right then, that very night, creep past the guards at the gate and loiter in the forest until Justin and his companion could pick her up as they left the following morning.
“You could sneak out. I’ve seen what you can do. No one would know you were leaving,” he argued. But she would only shake her head.
“No. Justin. No. I’m not ready to leave yet. I’ve kept my secret for a whole year and I didn’t even know I had a secret to
keep.
Now I’ll be twice as watchful. I won’t make any mistakes.”
keep.
Now I’ll be twice as watchful. I won’t make any mistakes.”
“Everybody makes mistakes,” he said. He had regarded her speculatively by moonlight, trying to decide if he could take her by force, steal a horse and escape with her this very night. His mood favored the plan, but his cooler intellect recognized it as suicidal.
“I won’t. I’ll be fine. Just trust me.”
Since he’d had no choice, he had left her behind, but he was already scheming about how and when to return and what sorts of persuasions he could bring to bear when he did. He would go back with the freighting man; that was a dead certainty. Maybe sooner, if he could think of a way to get inside the compound.
Sweet Mother of the burning sun. Ellynor was a mystic.
She could not have found a more dangerous place to stand if she had searched every acre and plot in the entire country of Gillengaria looking for one.
He didn’t make much effort at a smile. He was finding it hard to keep up this game of pretending to be harmless. “You’d rather I started breaking tables and throwing chairs through windows?”
“I’m thinking you’ve done some damage in your time.” Justin shrugged and took a swig of ale. He didn’t particularly care if Faeber thought him rude. Who cared what anybody thought about anything? Ellynor was in danger. “Not lately,” he said.
“Not so sure about that,” Faeber said in a soft voice.
Now Justin gave him a quick, level stare out of narrowed eyes. “What have you heard about me?”
Faeber settled himself more comfortably in his chair. Clearly Justin’s hostility wasn’t having much of an effect on him. “There was a story some weeks back. Fancy house burned down a few miles up the road in Nocklyn territory.”
“And you think I had something to do with it?”
Faeber shook his head. “I think it was burned down by convent guards trying to smoke out mystics,” he said bluntly.
Plain-speaking for someone as roundabout as Faeber. Justin remained noncommittal. “Is that right?”
“Trouble is, they seem to have missed their target,” he said. “Young boy was staying at the house—everyone thinks he’s got magic in his blood. Everyone thought he died in the fire. Turns out he didn’t. The story I heard—just today— is that some stranger happened to be riding by, and he helped the youngster get clear of the soldiers. Turned the boy over to people who could be trusted. Never told anyone his name.”
Who would have expected nobility to be gossiping with the magistrate of Neft? “Depending on how you feel about mystics, that was a stroke of either good fortune or bad,” Justin commented.
“I think the young serramarra who’s running Nocklyn thought it was good fortune,” Faeber said. “Serra Mayva? That boy’s related to her somehow, and she’s very fond of him. She was ecstatic to get the news, they say.”
“Well, that’s interesting,” Justin replied. “What about you? Pleased or disappointed?”
Faeber stretched out his legs. “I’m not one who sanctions outright murder,” he drawled. “I can think of a few men I’d like to see dead, but I wouldn’t set their houses on fire in the middle of the night.”
Which was as close as Faeber had ever come to admitting he disapproved of the persecution of mystics. Still, that didn’t mean Justin should share his own views. He wasn’t ready to trade confidences just yet. “No,” Justin said. “If I’m going to kill someone, I want him to be armed and staring me straight in the face.”
Faeber chuckled. “Just the sort of thing I’d expect you to say,” he said. “Even so, I have to wonder why you were out roaming the countryside the night that house burned down.”
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