The Bronze Mage (6 page)

By the time she was dressed and the bath was set right, Tabitha felt somewhat alert. She wondered if she would be more disappointed if James had already returned, ending her solitude, or if he had not, implying that she might have given up too soon on her escape. The sun had set. The house was dark. Tabitha sat on the bathhouse steps. Her arms and back ached. Her hands stung. She was overwhelmed by the possibility that she had given away her only opportunity to go home. The cabin, his cabin, sat in front of her. Tabitha imagined she'd rather have buried herself in her hole than walk tamely back to her room. In the yard she could at least see the stars, the forest. She stood and wandered around to the back of the cabin. She walked up to the boundary and leaned her head against it. The sensation was strange, a solid nothingness. She felt depressed rather than panicky.

Perversely, she was reminded of her last birthday. It had started with a lot of potential. Sixteenth birthdays always included a ball, so she'd been taking dance lessons for months. Her instructor had heaped her with praise, raising Tabitha's expectations that she might catch the eye of someone interesting. That was the purpose of such balls, after all, wasn't it? Three years previously, Melanie's ball had been, if anything, too successful. And Melanie was only an adequate dancer.
 

But the dancing lessons had been for naught. Boys were not impressed by someone who was more skilled than they were. Tabitha's partners danced with her out of obligation not choice, a few of them made that quietly clear. She'd stomped on their toes.

Nonetheless, she'd played her part well. Hidden her disappointment from her parents, who were doubtless hiding theirs from her. It had been an appropriate introduction to court life. She'd recognized that later that night, when she'd explained the fiasco to a garden statue. The stars had shone brightly against a bleak future.

Now Tabitha spread out the blanket and lay down on it, just clear of the barrier. She stared up at the same stars. If she ever made it home, who would she tell her stories to?

 
It was the first time she'd dreamed in over a week. At first she was just walking through the trees, but then she was running, as one does in dreams, faster and faster without making any progress at all. She wasn't sure if she was running toward or away from something, or if she was just running. The dream faded. Another came, then another. It was like her subconscious was fast-forwarding through all the dreams she should have dreamt, squeezing in as many as possible before time ran out. Several times she thought she woke from nightmares, only to find herself still dreaming. One of the times she thought she woke, her sister was sitting in a chair next to Tabitha's bed in her own room at home. Then the room faded into trees. James walked through them. The trees changed into a crowd of people and she lost sight of him.

This time Tabitha really was awake. Her every muscle ached too much for her to continue lying on the ground. No point staying out any longer. She stood carefully. She attempted to shake the leaves out of the blanket, but found the necessarily jerky movements caused too many parts of her to complain. She grimaced, wrapped the blanket back around herself and circled the cabin. As she rounded the porch, she saw light from the fireplace. James was home.

Tabitha steeled herself and continued into the cabin.

"I was just debating whether to bring you inside."

She plodded past him to her room. "I'm in."

"Why were you sleeping outside?"

She stood in her doorway, wondering if she could just fall into bed. She didn't think she'd be able to get back up if he wanted to do his spell work. Would he be able to make her get up if she was already asleep? Her mind trailed off in that direction, jerking back as she instinctively caught her balance. She was falling asleep on her feet. Was James coming? She turned to look. Evidently not.

"Why were you sleeping outside?" He craned his neck slightly to look at her.

"I'll tell you tomorrow. Good night." She walked to the bed, but left the door open so he wouldn't think she was picking a fight. He didn't move. Tabitha let the blanket fall to the floor so it wouldn't get her sheets dirty and slid into the bed. She was asleep before she knew whether or not he would follow.

The sun was bright when Tabitha re-opened her eyes. She hadn't had any dreams, so James must have simply woken her later than usual. As she sat she realized she also didn't have any aches. A quick inspection of her palms revealed that they were healed. It was a strange captivity, she thought, where her only injuries were self-inflicted and her captor healed them.

James was still eating breakfast when she sat down. He looked as fatigued as she'd expected to feel.

"Thank you for healing me."

"You're welcome. Next time ask for a pair of gardening gloves."

Tabitha was hopeful that he believed her digging had been fruitless, since he was talking about next time. She didn't trust herself not to give away her hope, so she just nodded and ate.

"What were you doing yesterday anyway?" she asked.

"Reclaiming some of my property."

"From where? You look exhausted."

"Yes, well, normally it would have been an overnight trip, but for some reason I was afraid you'd find a way to hurt yourself while I was gone. It was something of a relief to come home and find you sleeping in the yard with nothing worse than strained muscles and blistered hands. You do understand that magic is not like wood or dirt? Physical attacks do not affect it."

"I tend to believe what I experience more than what I'm told."

"Have you experienced enough to at least think about the possible repercussions before you try anything else? The next time I'm gone I may need to stay overnight. I would prefer not to have to leave you asleep for two days."

"No! I mean, yes, I'll be careful. I was careful this time."

"Hmm. How far did you dig before you gave up? The servants had a bet going on whether you'd be able to climb out on your own."

"It wasn't that deep. Maybe four feet."

"That's how deep it was when they left. You were still digging."

"I gave up soon after. Then I filled it back in and took a bath."

"And fell asleep in the backyard?"

Tabitha nodded.

"Did you sleep outside much growing up?" He seemed honestly puzzled. "I would have thought you'd had your fill of it on our way here."

"I don't particularly care for sleeping on the ground, but I don't want to be here either. In your house, your spare bedroom. This isn't a visit. I'm not your guest. I'm trapped." Tabitha could feel the hysteria building behind her anger. She clenched her teeth and glared at him.

He regarded her thoughtfully. "What would change your mind?"

"What are you talking about?"

"If you could leave, as long as you promised to return, would you feel less trapped?"

"A tethered hawk isn't free, no matter how far it flies. Why do you insist on keeping me here? If you're lonely, hang out with your cousin. Go courting. You were supposed to be good at that."

"I'm beginning to think I've lost my touch."

"This is nothing like courting. Stop trying to pretend this is normal. I'm not beautiful. You're not charming. This isn't a game." Tabitha stormed out of the cabin, slamming the door shut behind her.

EIGHT

Insurrection

James left her alone until the time for their afternoon walk. She had just finished re-sharpening the manservant's knife when he approached her. She looked from it to James speculatively and found her arms frozen in place. She glared at him.

"I wouldn't have," she said. "There's no point when I know you can do that."

"But if there was a point? Are you capable of murder?"

She dropped her gaze and shook her head. "Though if you wait for my father or King Fenril to send troops, I may wish I was. I don't doubt that you would kill at least some of them. You've done it before."

"There are a lot of things I wish I could undo."

Tabitha peered up at him. James was staring past her, maybe lost in memories. She wished she knew how much he regretted. Could he really want to change? Could she really still be that gullible? Tabitha snorted. "That might sound more convincing if you hadn't kidnapped me as soon as you revived."

James instantly refocused. "If you're going to be snippy, I'll walk alone."

"Then go!"

He regarded her for a few seconds, pressing his lips together. He removed the knife from her grip before turning to go. When he released her arms, she grabbed a rock and whipped it at him. He deflected it with a gesture and kept walking.

His condescension infuriated Tabitha. He always acted like she was the one being unreasonable. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself. What should she do? Trying to get along didn't seem to be working. He kept expecting her to settle in or something. Maybe if she picked enough fights with James he would get tired of her. She was good at picking fights. Her older siblings could attest to that.

The next few days Tabitha sulked in the mornings, not coming out of her room until after breakfast. She ignored James when he spoke to her. If she had to respond, she was rude. She constantly threw things at him, whatever came to hand. Her aim was good, but he deflected them all, even if he couldn't possibly have seen them. She wondered how his magic worked, but wasn't about to ask him. Not that he was likely to explain it. She skipped lunch and dinner as well, ostensibly to avoid James. She refused to admit there might be another reason.

In retaliation, the maid was not allowed to fetch sticks for her and the manservant was forbidden to lend her his knife. Both of them thought she was insane for provoking the mage. Also, apparently in response to her fast,
 
the meals were becoming more elaborate and fragrant. There was always bread baking, stew simmering, strongly seasoned meat roasting, bowls of sliced fruit set out. She'd never known anyone to use cinnamon with such frequency, or cloves, or citrus. The castle cook would have been shocked by the rich fare.
 

With no walks and no practice weapons to make or use, no real conversation, and a constantly growing hunger, Tabitha's days were exceedingly long. Her chief entertainment became pelting James with random objects. She'd collect things from around the house or outside, then sit in one of the parlor chairs and try to hit him if he walked past. If he locked himself in his room, she'd throw them at his door, then collect them and throw them again.

He still kept up his nightly ritual. She submitted to it in silence, since she'd already lost that argument their first night here. But the spellwork exacerbated her gnawing hunger.

By the fifth day, Tabitha was miserable. In her whole previous life she'd never missed more than an occasional meal. Hunger seemed to define her now. She felt weak and cranky, and was beginning to wonder if James would allow her to starve herself to death. She wasn't sure she'd have the strength of will to find out. The smell of a potato soup flavored with bacon and chives was taunting her from the kitchen. Tabitha's stomach growled, then seemed to twist in a painful knot. She scowled down at it and tightened her grip on the acorns in her hands. The stem of one pressed painfully into her palm, but she welcomed any distraction from her hunger.

Tabitha was sitting by the fireplace, waiting for James to come out for lunch. When he opened the door, she threw an acorn at him. He deflected it impatiently. She threw another. He lost his temper, exploding the small nut into dust and freezing Tabitha's muscles so tightly that she could hardly breathe. Her pulse raced as she realized she might have pushed him too far.

"That is enough." His look was fierce, his voice stoney. He waited several heartbeats before he released her. Angry at her fear, Tabitha gulped a few breaths then threw another acorn defiantly. James's eyes flashed. Too calmly, he commanded, "Be nice."

Tabitha felt light-headed. She looked around the room a little dazedly. Noticing James, she smiled. He regarded her expressionlessly and her smile faltered. She stood to walk over to him, confused by how weak and hungry she felt. Had she missed breakfast? And where were they? There didn't seem to be anyone else present except a maid. Was this James's house? That didn't seem right. As she approached he offered his arm, but he still wasn't smiling. Hesitantly, she took it, wondering why he was so grave. The room tilted violently.

Tabitha found herself collapsed against James's chest and pushed away from him in a panic. She lost her balance, but he caught her, held her gently but firmly by both arms.

"Either choose to be nice, or I'll choose for you," he said. His gaze was as cold and hard as ice.

Tabitha's composure cracked and she burst into tears. Fighting against him was impossible. How could she win? She was never going to find her way home. James pulled her back into his chest and wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair. After a few minutes, her sobs subsided into sniffles, but she was too weary to pull away from him.

"I am not your enemy." He spoke quietly so only she could hear. "You must know that. Otherwise why would you think to hurt me by starving yourself? You made your point. Now, eat."

Unsure what point she had made, Tabitha nonetheless allowed James to lead her to the table. She would follow his advice and eat. Maybe later things wouldn't seem so hopeless, maybe she could figure out what to do next. She ate a bowl of soup, which tasted as good as it had smelled, and a slice of sunflower seed bread before stopping. It was a compromise, and also a precaution against whatever reaction her stomach might have. James had supplemented his bread and soup with slices of meat and cheese, finishing with a bowl of fruit salad topped with whipped cream that smelled of nutmeg and cinnamon, eating it all with obvious relish. He looked up when Tabitha's stomach grumbled, and she forced herself not to stare at the food.

Rising from the table, he announced, "You've spent too much time indoors. Walk with me." It was less invitation than command, and although Tabitha would have preferred a nap to a walk, she obediently rose to accompany him. When he offered her his arm, she slid her hand through it. This was not a liberty he'd taken before, but she found herself leaning on him more the longer they walked.