Skyfall (6 page)

Roca doubted many of them were over fifty and most seemed much younger. But they didn’t
look
young. Garlin was one of the oldest adults, and Roca was beginning to think he hadn’t reached forty. Everyone out of their teens showed signs of age: lines around the eyes, gray in their hair, drier skin that became leathery or loose on the eldest. Although she knew less advanced cultures had few means to delay aging, it stunned her to encounter such blunt evidence of that. She had never interacted with a culture this primitive. These people would be old and decrepit at an age when members of her own circle were just reaching the vigorous prime of their lives.

The servers were teenagers. They brought out pale stone dishes heaped with steaming entrées, then took their places at the table. Roca blinked at the food. It was all bubbles, nothing but bubbles in a multitude of sizes, shapes, and colors. A youth piled her plate high with fragrant spheres.

Eldri grinned at her. “Eat. Enjoy.”

Roca managed a smile, aware of the others discreetly watching her. She picked up a utensil by her plate, a fork with two prongs extending from a cupped bowl similar to a spoon. Then she delved into her meal. She ate slowly, giving her nanomeds time to analyze the food. Nothing reacted enough to stimulate a rejection in her body. If her meds encountered a poison they couldn’t neutralize or dispose of, they might spur her to vomit. It wasn’t the most elegant process, but it worked.

The food confused Roca, but it tasted delicious. Some bubbles were sweet, some sour, others crunchy or chewy. One particularly succulent entrée was hard and spicy on the outside and meltingly smooth inside.

The man next to her sipped wine from his mug, which was made from the same white stone as the other table settings. After setting it down, he picked up a white cloth embroidered with green and gold stars and wiped his mouth. It surprised Roca, though she wasn’t sure why. Then she realized, with embarrassment, that she had expected people in a less advanced culture to have less refined manners. Here the opposite was true, a reminder that she should avoid assumptions.

“Roca?” Eldri asked.

Startled, she turned just as a youth set a stone cup by her plate. The young man had the violet eyes ubiquitous among the Lyshrioli and pale lavender hair. Roca had never seen that color of hair occur naturally before, but it didn’t seem uncommon here. She nodded to thank him for the drink, and he smiled shyly, blushing, which made the freckles across his nose stand out. Then he backed away, bowing.

Eldri leaned over to her. “You enchant my kin.”

“These are your family?”

“Some. Others are friends.” He indicated a girl farther down the table. “Chaniece is the daughter of my aunt’s oldest cousin.” He relaxed in his chair, nodding to the man on his left, beaming at others. Several people called out to him, and a man down the table raised his mug.

Roca smiled. “They like you.”

His grin flashed. “They are a wise people.”

She snorted. “And you are so terribly modest.”

Eldri laughed freely, and gently, with no edge. “So Garlin admonishes me.” He tapped the rim of her cup. “This is water. I asked them to boil it for you.”

“I thank you, kind sir.”

“Perhaps, if I charm you enough, you will thaw enough to acknowledge that I am tolerable, eh?”

Roca laughed. “You are incorrigible.”

He smiled companionably. “That too.”

Conversation flowed around them, drawing Eldri’s attention. Roca understood little of what anyone said. Children chattered, and the younger ones ran around the hall when they grew bored with dinner. Everyone used the tongue common to this land, a language called Trillian. No one but Eldri spoke English, though Roca knew Garlin could if he wished. The Lyshrioli language was sheer joy, caressing her ears. Her node was processing it, but she doubted she could learn enough in one day to converse.

She obviously fascinated Eldri’s people. Their moods flowed over her, soaking through her shields. Some of the women projected a friendly regard, looking forward to having someone new in their in-grown society; others resented Roca’s favor with their Bard. Many of the men envied Eldri, including some who watched Roca with an appraising regard that disquieted her. Had she not been Eldri’s guest, she wondered if she would have made it to her room alone that night, whether she wanted company or not.

Roca shuddered, remembering Darr, and her growing trust of Eldri faltered. As charming as he had been this evening, this was also the man who had hauled her off from the port. In his culture that might be considered a good-natured prank, but for her it evoked darker memories.

Yet despite all that, she enjoyed the festivities. She loved learning new customs and coming to understand people. She watched carefully, trying to adapt. Being an empath helped; she could catch nuances she might have missed otherwise. At one point she started to pick up a long knife by her plate. As she touched the handle, shock came from everyone around her. She left the knife alone and the concern of the people faded. It wasn’t until after Eldri started using his own knife that anyone else picked up theirs.

The meal took several hours, with many courses, ending with sweet yellow bubbles in syrup. Everyone had wine, a potent brew that made Roca’s eyes water. It only took one cup to relax her quite agreeably; her nanomeds weren’t designed to stop her from getting drunk.

After dinner, Roca went with Eldri up a staircase against the far wall. Below them, young people cleared the table while the older folks gathered into groups to talk and tell stories. Mellow from the wine, Eldri took her hand in his. Had she been sober, she would have pulled away, but right now she couldn’t seem to remember why it was important she remain uninvolved. His large palm hinged around hers, enveloping her fingers, leaving her thumb free. She rubbed his hinge, wondering why his ancestors had redesigned their bone structure. Did his feet also bend that way, with four instead of five toes? She imagined pulling off his boots and trousers to find out, and heat spread from her face down her body.

“Do you wish to wash before you sleep?” he asked as they walked up the stairs. “Chaniece can bring you water. I will have her boil it.”

She gave him a mellow smile. “Just make warm. No need boil. Only what I drink.” Her voice slurred. “I clean myself with blue water.”

He leaned closer to her. “I will help.”

Roca waggled her finger at him. “Behave.”

“But life would be so boring then.”

Roca slanted him an admonishing look, but it had a different effect from what she intended, making his gaze turn sultry. He didn’t look the least admonished. It occurred to her that as tipsy as she was right now, she might be letting him know more of what she felt than was wise.

They had reached the landing at the top of the stairs. Roca gazed over the hall below. It enchanted her, bathed in golden light, crowded with people in rustic clothes, the furniture glowing in deep glasswood hues.

Roca sighed. “So beautiful.”

“Yes,” Eldri murmured. “It is.”

She turned to find him watching her instead of the hall. His violet eyes mesmerized. Everyone here had eyes like that, but on him they looked different. She wondered why she had ever considered brooding men attractive. Right now, Eldri was gorgeous. His desire flowed over her, stirring reactions that should have stayed dormant.

“I go to my room now,” she said unsteadily.

“Certainly.” He opened the door on the landing and ushered her into a stone hall. After a short walk, they reached an arch with a curtain strung from tiny iridescent bubbles. The beads jingled as he pushed aside the strings. He escorted her into an antechamber with a cushioned bench running around its wall.

“This is where people wait who come to see me,” he explained.

Roca peered at him. “I thought we go to my room.”

“Well, maybe you could say that.”

She stopped and folded her arms. “I not sleep with you.”

“You could come in for just a moment,” he coaxed. “We can learn each other’s culture. Garlin always says I must do that with your people.”

“Men,” Roca grumbled. “You are same everywhere. I not go in there with you.”

“Why not?” His mischief flashed. “Do you fear you can’t control yourself around me?”

“Hah. You have ego as big as this mountain. I have no worry about me.”

Eldri leaned closer to her. “I think you should prove it.”

She poked her finger against his chest. “That trick is old as this castle. Almost as old as getting girl drunk.”

“Just come in to talk. I won’t grab.”

“Pah.”

“Really.”

It was hard to resist when he looked at her with those big eyes of his. She cleared her throat, wishing she could clear her brain as easily. “Eldri, you have no interest in talk.”

“Yes I do.”

“Pah.”

“Come in just for a few minutes.”

“Famous words.”

“Famous?”

“We go in, you say ‘just a few more minutes’ every few minutes.” Her finger was still against his chest, so she ran it around in a circle, aware of the muscles under his shirt. “Many ‘few minutes’ later, woman is in bed.”

He smirked. “You think about only one thing, Roca.”

“Me! Never.”

He grasped her finger, which she suddenly realized had been rubbing his chest, more slowly now, like a caress. “Always.”

She pulled her hand away. “Never.”

“Come on, Roca,” he murmured.

So tempting…maybe she shouldn’t have drunk so much wine. “I don’t believe you just talk a few minutes.”

“I promise.”

She meant to refuse, but somehow instead she said, “
One
minute. We see how well you keep promise.”

He grinned at her. “Come on.” Then he led her across the foyer to a purple glasswood door. It let them into a bedroom with stone walls, floor, and ceiling. Across the room, flames leapt in a fireplace. Throw rugs softened the floor, but the walls were bare except for two crossed swords above the hearth. To the right, in an alcove, tall windows looked out over the mountains, or they would have if their shutters had been open. On the left, quilts and embroidered pillows were piled on a large bed.

“Here.” Eldri drew her into the alcove with the windows. “Be comfortable. The benches are cushioned. I will be right back.” Then he took off across the room.

Roca squinted at him, then settled onto the bench and relaxed against a shutter. The cold from outside seeped through the glasswood. Had she been sober, it might have bothered her, but right now everything seemed warm, even the cold, though if she thought about it too hard, that made no sense. Better not to think.

Eldri reappeared with a carafe and two goblets made from ruby-red glasswood. He gave her one of the cups.

Roca turned the goblet over in her hand. “Pretty.”

“Very.” His voice had gone husky. He poured wine for both of them, then leaned the rim of his cup against hers. “May we weave many profitable and mutually agreeable relations between your people and mine.”

“Yes.” Roca tapped her cup against his, which had nothing to do with any of his customs or hers, but seemed a good idea. Then she took a swallow of wine. “Hmm. Good.”

“Here. Have some more.” He filled her goblet.

She gave him a dour look. “You know, Eldri, is not so easy to make me drunk.”

“You already are drunk, my ice queen.” His grin was so wicked, it was a wonder he didn’t get arrested, though she wasn’t exactly sure who would do the arresting.

She spoke with dignity. “I drunk not. Not drunk, I mean.”

He took her goblet and set it on the floor with his own and the carafe. “There. Now neither of us will be drunk.” Scooting closer, he slid his arm around her shoulders.

Roca pushed off his arm. “We have done our talk. Now I go.”

He put his arms around her waist. “You know, other women long to kiss me. They dream about it.”

She cocked her eyebrow at him. “Your humility astonishes me.”

“Ah, but it is an honor to kiss the Bard…” His voice trailed off as he brought his lips to hers.

Roca fully intended to push him away. But somehow instead she put her arms around his neck and molded her body against his. As his embrace tightened, his kiss became more urgent and his hands wandered to her breasts. Nudging her backward, he stretched her out on the cushioned bench and lay on top of her.

Roca turned her head to the side. “I’m crazy,” she muttered. Then she rolled him off of her body.

“Ai!” A loud thump reverberated through the alcove.

Trying to focus her blurred sight, Roca turned on her side and hung on the edge of the bench, peering down. Eldri was lying on the floor, looking annoyed. He sat up, wincing as he rubbed his shoulder. Then he glared at her. “You are colder than a rain of ice and hail.”

“Hail
is
ice.” Roca also sat up, wishing she didn’t want so much to go to bed with him. It was wrong for so many reasons, she couldn’t count them. But that was hard to remember when faced with his tousled, appealing person. “We are supposed to talk about relations between our peoples.”

His grin came back. “We
were
exploring relations.”

“Pah. I give you doubt benefit.” She paused as her node corrected the idiom. “I gave you the benefit of a doubt. Now I go.”

“Doubt benefit?” He folded his arms around his torso. “You know, it really is cold in here.”

“Maybe snow still come down outside.”

He stood up and unlatched one of the shutters. As he cracked it open, snow blew into the room. He shut it hard, grimacing, his shirt already covered with blue powder. Roca crossed her arms and shivered.

Eldri dropped onto the bench next to her. He wasn’t smiling anymore. “I am very, very sorry.” He looked very, very guilty.

She regarded him uneasily. “Why?”

“We cannot go down the mountain in such snow.”

“No.” He couldn’t mean that. “We must leave tomorrow.”

“It is too dangerous.”

Roca swallowed. “Is only snow.”

“Up here, snow can kill you.”

She had traveled in every type of weather, but always with modern protections and the knowledge that if the unexpected arose, she would soon have a fix for the problem. Here she didn’t know what to do. “Maybe it stop soon.”