Healer's Touch (14 page)

The atmosphere of the inn relaxed, though only slightly. The innkeeper watched Jonas warily, as did several of the bar’s patrons, those still sober enough to be paying attention, anyway. But slowly card games were resumed and the piano struck up again.

The group closed ranks around Jonas as Aris hushed the questions about the man who had known far too much.

“You two go and see to the horses.”

Alvaro and Cassidy did as Aris ordered and headed for the stable.

“Do you mind settling the girls in?” Aris turned to Emylia. “Jonas and I need to have a word.”

“And me,” said Llew, then continued before Aris could object. “He knew about me. I think you should talk to me, too.”

“No, Llew. This is family business,” said Aris.

“Exactly. He knew about my ma–”

“No!”

Llew jumped back half a step and the whole room fell silent again.

“Llew. Braph is a magician. He could pick your thoughts right out of your head,” Jonas said in a husky whisper.

“But I wasn’t thinking about my parents.”
Magician?

“A bath will be brought up to your room,” said Aris, as if Llew hadn’t spoken. “I suggest you use it. We will meet down here for a meal later. No one,” he looked pointedly at Llew and then Jonas, “no one will be going anywhere tonight. Do I make myself clear?”

Jonas and Llew nodded to each other, neither looking at Aris.

“So, there is nothing further for you to discuss tonight. Emylia.” Aris motioned for Emylia to take over from there. She nodded and rounded the two girls up.

“Aw, but things were just getting interesting,” said Anya, turning to the stairway.

“Ladies don’t whine, Anya,” said Emylia behind them. “And young ladies do as they’re told.”

Anya didn’t reply as she headed up the stairs. Llew followed, ushered by Emylia.

After a bath and a meal in strained silence, Llew lay in her bed waiting for Anya and Emylia’s breathing to change, indicating that they had crossed the threshold into sleep. When she was sure she was the only one awake, she eased her blankets back and swivelled from the bed. She hadn’t stripped, so only needed to pull on her shoes, her jacket, and then it was the simple matter of slipping out the door. Simple, if its hinges weren’t in need of a little oil. She opened it inch by inch, cringing at every creak and freezing at each shuffle of blankets behind her. When the opening was just wide enough for her thin frame, she slunk through, and then began the painful process of closing it again.

She tiptoed along the corridor, opened and slid through the next door quickly to avoid the racket from the still crowded bar waking those above, then scurried down the stairs; she scooted around drunk men and corseted – and little else – women, who mostly ignored her in her jacket and trousers and short tousled hair, and finally pushed her way into the clean crisp air outside.

A hand covered her mouth and an arm wrapped about her waist and she was pulled into the shadow of the alley by the inn.

CHAPTER NINE

She didn’t squeal. After the initial shock, she knew it was Jonas. He released her once they were hidden from the view of casual passers-by.

“You shouldn’t be out here.” Jonas poked his head around the corner of the inn, checking she hadn’t been followed.

“Neither should you,” she said, resting her clenched hands on her hips. “Yet here you are. And you knew I’d come, or you wouldn’t have waited on me.”

He turned back to her. “I didn’t want you goin’ alone. But it ain’t safe for you to come. You should go back.”

“You know I won’t.”

He took his time answering, appraising her. “I know. But you gotta do exactly what I tell you.”

“Okay.”

“Alright. It don’t look like anyone heard you leave. Come on.” Jonas stepped onto the street and Llew followed.

They had crossed the bridge on their way into Stelt. The river ran through a deep stretch of green grass on either side. There would be no light from nearby buildings, only what the moon threw down in between scurrying cloud cover. The night air was cold, and Llew hoped that whatever this Braph had to say he would say it fast. But she certainly wanted to hear what he had to say – especially about her parents.

“Who is Braph?” she asked, trotting to keep up with Jonas’ brisk strides.

“Someone I’d rather you didn’t meet.”

“Why? He called you ‘brother’.”

“That’s because I am – he is. My pa was his pa first. And he ain’t never let me forget it.” Jonas maintained his pace and Llew had to throw in a few running strides to keep up.

“He talks so–”

“Like he went and got educated?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

Llew floundered, thinking she’d insulted him. But he didn’t look upset.

“Yeah, well, so did I. But I didn’t feel the need to go denyin’ my roots, did I?”

“Which are?”

“We grew up on a farm in Aldia, far north o’ Quaver. Mostly kept us out o’ trouble.”

Mostly . . . Llew was learning that if she wanted to kill a conversation with Jonas, she simply had to ask about his family. They continued in silence.

When they arrived at the bridge, Jonas peered into the night and checked both sides of the river; there was no sign of the leather-clad man.

“Do you think he’ll come?”

“He’ll come.” Arms folded, Jonas leaned back against the end of the bridge.

“Why do you think he wanted you to bring me?”

“’Cause it’s the only way he’ll have any chance of beatin’ me in a fight.”

“You think you’ll fight?”

“He’s got it comin’.”

Llew stooped and plucked a handful of grass blades. She started throwing them into the cold air one by one until she got bored. Then she brushed the last blades from her hands and hugged herself, rubbing her hands up and down her biceps. The cold was seeping right through her jacket.

“Why would my being here give him a better chance of beating you? Doesn’t it put the odds in our favour?”

Jonas was silent a while. “’Cause it’s harder to fight when I gotta worry ’bout him hurtin’ you.”

“Don’t worry about me.” She shoved her hands in her trouser pockets, hunching her shoulders up to her ears. She considered telling him why he shouldn’t worry, but now wasn’t the time. With his brother on the way, he had enough to think about.

Suddenly Jonas’ arms reached around from behind and he pulled her into him, and he rested his head on her shoulder. She hadn’t sensed him move from the bridge. They stood watching the play of the moon’s silver light on the rippling water for several minutes. Normally Llew would have brushed such affection aside, laughed it off. But she was cold, and even his warm breath across her cheek was welcome.

“I will worry about you,” he said. “Damn it, Llew! Everyone I’ve ever cared for is dead. It won’t happen again.”

“You care for Aris, don’t you?”

“That’s different.” His voice was almost a whisper. Llew started. Had Jonas just said he cared about her? Surely not. Besides, it meant little. Her father had cared about her too. Didn’t stop him leaving when he’d had enough.

She almost forgot why they were there, as she felt his body against her and his breath tickling her ear. She let her head fall back onto his shoulder, a thrill shooting through her as her smooth cheek brushed his unshaven one. The chilly air breezing across her exposed neck didn’t bother her, and she wondered if this was what it was supposed to be like to be with a man, courting. She had heard other women and girls talk of sparks and tingles – not the cringing revulsion she had experienced with the men who used to visit her pa, one of whom had been the first to take her, nor yet the despairing touch of Kynas. This was all new for Llewella. She turned her head toward him and blew out a ragged breath as his lips pressed lightly against her exposed neck.

Jonas guided her down into the grass. She sat, and he knelt before her. He stared questioningly and she replied with a tiny nod and smile. He leaned in to kiss her and then, cradling her head, he guided her to lie back. One knee between her thighs, he continued with ever more probing kisses, loosening her top button with one hand. Llewella pulled his shirt free of his trousers and slipped her hands up to take advantage of every ounce of heat.

“I hope he doesn’t come,” she said.

“Let him come.” He planted a kiss at the corner of her mouth. “I’ll kill him before he draws breath for the comment he always has to get in first.”

“When did you last see him?” she asked as he moved down her neck again.

“I ain’t talkin’ ’bout Braph while I’m puttin’ the moves on you.”

“Oh, you do make it sound so romantic.”

“Well, I don’t know nothin’ ’bout romance.”

“Sex on the other hand . . . ” She finished for him and froze, while he chuckled and kissed her skin.

Was that what they were doing here? A flash of Kynas writhing on top of her appeared in Llew’s mind and suddenly she felt sick. She couldn’t think about Jonas like that. She couldn’t do it. They couldn’t do it. His lips on her skin felt so good, but where they were leading filled Llew with dread.

“What was that word he called you?”

Jonas’ head came up and he sighed with frustration.

“Get up.” A sword tip smacked the ground by Llew’s ear and she cracked her head against Jonas’ jaw.

Rubbing his jaw, Jonas stood. When Llew went to follow suit, the sword tip was pressed against her chest, where her shirt hung open. She was stuck on her elbows, too scared to move.

“Don’t you touch her,” said Jonas, moving toward the man. But he had to back up a step when another sword was levelled at him. “Let her go.” Llew didn’t think Jonas was in a position to make such demands.

“Actually, it’s her we want. You can go,” said the first man. One more stood behind him. All three were thick-set, muscular men with unshaven chins and unkempt hair.

“No.”

“I know what you are,” said the leader. “But there are three of us.”

“Drop your swords,” Jonas commanded, speaking slowly and carefully.

“Aghacia’s magic-free. We don’t need your kind here. Hers neither, but she’s worth somethin’ to us.”

Llew felt the tip of the sword pressed more firmly against her. She gasped at its touch even as she tried not to break Jonas’ concentration. She knew he was a capable fighter – he had, after all, easily defeated the Zaki warrior in a hand-to-hand fight – but here he faced three swordsmen. And each of the men was nearly twice his size.

The man holding the sword against Llew grinned, pressed harder and allowed the sword to slip, slicing her skin. Her fingers tingled in the grass below her and the skin healed almost instantly.

His back to Llew, Jonas only saw the sword move. Both swords were swept aside and Jonas had the two men on the ground in little more than a second, knives sunk in their chests. One man lay silent. A gurgling breath came from the other and then he too lay still. Crouching between the prone men, Jonas looked to the third, who held his sword half-drawn from its scabbard.

“Leave,” said Jonas.

Llew’s attention was caught by a shadow passing in front of her. Something grabbed the hair at the back of her head and a stinging, burning sensation stretched from ear to ear. She was vaguely aware of the third swordsman turning to flee when her breath caught in her throat. She tried to swallow, but didn’t seem to know how to work the muscles any more. In her dulling vision, she saw Jonas move and distantly she heard him shout after the man. She tried to call out to him, but blew bubbles instead and choked on the warm liquid filling the back of her mouth. She put a hand to her throat in a strange belief that doing so would fix things. Her ears rang. She pulled her hand from her throat. It glistened black. Her stomach lurched, and she fainted.

* * *

Braph cursed under his breath as he returned his bloodied knife to its sheath. He cursed the stupid idiots for getting themselves killed without achieving their objective, and he cursed the girl. It was simple. Kill her. That was all. Kill her so Braph could see what happened. He supposed he had to accept some blame. He had underestimated Jonas’ speed – he hadn’t seen him for, what, going on fifteen years? Jonas had grown, matured. What was the girl doing with Jonas? It was a complication he hadn’t anticipated.

Crouched at the base of a tree a hundred yards from the action, he watched her struggling for breath while Jonas saw off the last of the men. How could he have guessed that, of all people, the girl would meet Jonas? What was he even doing in Aghacia? Braph needed the girl if he was to face Jonas on equal terms. Assuming she was what he thought she was.

The girl toppled over and Jonas ran to her. Braph narrowed his eyes and wondered what Jonas would do when he saw what she was: or did he already know? Braph doubted it, and it seemed the men had interrupted the pair . . . exploring each other. He didn’t think Jonas would have been caught in such a position with one of
them
. A shadow of regret touched Braph. He’d already taken his brother’s wife and child. But he had to take this girl; there was no other way. If she died now, she was dead. If she recovered, then Braph needed her.