Tinkermage (Book 2) (16 page)

“Regardless of what you look like under that dressing,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion, “you will always be… special to me. That’s why you’re free to go. Free to get away from this trouble. Free to find an employer who won’t get you maimed… or killed.”

If she glanced just a moment in his direction, she’d know just how deeply he cared for her. But being tough no longer mattered. Not when it came to Jancy. He’d almost lost her back there by the rock, and he’d be damned if he’d let her go without showing her…
something
.

Her eyes remained forward, but her grin reappeared, smug and wry all at once. “I’ve always been free to go, Nik. But I’m not. You’re stuck with me, you irascible softy. Although I will take the extra coins.” With that, she gave her pony a frog-like kick and trotted ahead.

Nikselpik grinned after her, at least until Lili rode up beside him, at which time he quickly straightened his face and added a pinch of frown for good measure. But inside, his heart soared.

Lili peered at him a moment. “When we get home, I’ll make you that bean and potato soup you like and we’ll have us a proper meal. Haven’t done that in a long time.”

“When we get home, I’m having a warm Lelorian wine in my study. Perhaps two.”

“Might be good if you put something in your stomach first, since you haven’t eaten all day.”

True enough. He was starving. He’d had a little lamb soup yesterday, but his eyes had been much too big for his stomach and too soon after waking from his dark stupor. He grudgingly nodded. It also might do the house a bit of good to have the fine aroma of Lili’s cooking wafting through the place. “Thanks, Lili. Soup it is. But I’ll have you know, I’m rather determined to get caught up on some reading.”

“Sure, Nik. Wouldn’t think of keeping you from your reading or your drinking, but soup it is indeed, and I’ve even got some of that fine wheat bread for you to dip with, too.” She patted a knapsack, and while her tone was upbeat, he could sense a little hurt in it, as well. He wanted time with her too, and she’d have it, but his curiosity regarding the necromantic arts was too hard to put away. Some things he just needed to know.

“Thank you, Lili. We’ll have us a nice, relaxed, cozy time. Cannot wait to get that hearth lit.”

It felt good seeing the snow-covered roof of his house as they plodded down Undercog Lane, which ran parallel to Longtowner. The overgrown bushes, stunted trees, and weeds were stripped of their green, and the gutters were in need of repair, and the yard all around his house was covered with knee-deep, snowy mulch. It looked a bit ramshackle, admittedly.

“Just how I like it,” he said aloud to himself.

The hearths would no doubt be frozen and would need some work before he could have a proper setting for reading. He glanced at his wide front porch, where he and Kalaquick often planted their butts in a pair of rickety rocking chairs and shared a pipe.

Jancy had already dismounted and looked shivery and bored. “Let’s get inside. My arse is freezing off.”

Nikselpik climbed the steps to stand next to his wayward progeny. At the top, he turned to bid everyone farewell, but it seemed the entire retinue, except for precisor Elkian, were hitching up their ponies to the rails.

Elkian looked up. “I’ll run and fetch some stable hands. They can put up a small shelter for the ponies out back and get them taken care of proper.” He waved and rode off while the others joined Nikselpik on the porch.

He gaped at them. “What is everyone doing?”

“Elwray’s orders,” Tenzic said. “We are to remain with you night and day.”

Fara looked back and forth between the wizards and precisors. She shrugged. “I’m going against my orders to return to my post. Nik, you still need some seeing to. And…” She seemed hesitant to go on.

“What, Fara?” he said, an edge to his voice was misdirected at her.

“You may be elected First Wizard soon. And you can’t very well be looking over your shoulder along with your new responsibilities. Not if everything Jontuk says is true and there’s to be some fighting in our future.”

“What good is a First Wizard if he cannot protect himself? I’m
fine
. And I’m
not
First Wizard so stop with that sort of chatter.”

Tenzic glanced hopefully at the door. “Maybe we could talk about a strategy, sir. We need to be prepared in the event Raulnock attacks again.”

Lili touched his arm. “Oh, Nik, c’mon. We have three guest rooms and a huge great room. Plenty of space for everyone.”

“But…”

“Nik, please. It’s freezing cold.”

“Oh, very well.” He felt around in his robe for a key… then in another pocket, then a third. “Where’s my gods-damned key?”

Looking guilty, Lili pulled it from one of her own dress pockets. “I kept it for safety’s sake. Knew you’d probably lose it.”

“I wouldn’t have lost it if you hadn’t
taken
it.”

“Right. Of course, Nik.” She went to the lock and put the key inside.

“Wait! I’ll need to remove the wards.”

“Already been done.”

“How?”

“Kalaquick.”

Nikselpik sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Is everyone working against me then?”

Lili turned the key and the door’s mechanics, in great need of oiling, spun and whirred and clicked until the door popped open. Lili pushed on it, turning to him as she went in. “We’re working
with
you, Nik. Not against you.”

He followed on her heels, about to snap something back at her, but as they stood in the foyer, the intoxicating smells of cooking food nearly knocked him off his feet. The house was comfortably warm, and his stomach immediately groaned in anticipation. “What’s this?”

In the hallway, the aroma was much stronger, and his jaw dropped open at the crates stacked neatly against the wall.
Perry’s Maze
was stenciled on every one of them.

Lili patted one of the crates. “The councilors, as promised.”

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Seems like our distinguished leaders are good for something.”

The great room was in perfect order. Dusted, straightened, a fire roaring in the hearth. He crossed to the flames and held out his hands. “Oh, this is too nice. And what’s this?”

“We’ve been busy here too, Nik. Couldn’t very well have you coming home to a cold, empty house.” Master Toz gestured to the crates lined up in the hall. “Shall we get comfortable?”

Nikselpik couldn’t say no to that. “Of course. Everyone! Welcome. Yes, break open the Maze, Toz. Break it open.”

He looked askance at Lili, who seemed to be quite pleased with herself for reasons he would probably never know.
Well, she loves you, you troll-faced idiot.

Feeling better than he had in ages, Nikselpik gave Lili a fond wink, put his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close.

Chapter Nineteen

Niksabella woke hot and angry and full of fight. It was the dream again, the gnomestress there and gone. The Prophetess. The beach. Some dark shape playing in the cresting waves. An argument about something, the entire gist of it gone like a wisp of smoke in the wind.

Wait! There was something.

At the end of the dream, she’d clung to the gnomestress’ gown, wrestling with her in the sand, neither winning nor losing but simply trying to drag the memory with her into wakefulness. But the Prophetess was still too strong, breaking Niksabella’s grip and pushing her down in the sand… and…

“She slapped me!”

“What was that, dear?” That was Termund, somewhere in the room. Probably at his grand desk or at the table reading through legal parchments.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Niksabella tried to dive back in, tried to go back to the beach with the Prophetess standing over her. Oh, would she give that nasty gnomestress a cuff or two! If she could only get back…

But there was too much noise here in the real world. Papers shuffled, a tea cup met its saucer with a light
clink
, and soft music played. The sounds of the waking world. Altogether frustrating, but she finally let go of the dream and opened her eyes.
I’m getting closer. Next time I’ll have you.

There were more pleasant things to think about anyway. She’d fallen asleep next to Termund last night, in his room, in his bed. Alone, together. Still, a first for her, spending an entire evening with a fellow, falling asleep in his arms, the winter chill kept at bay by a warmly blowing vent and their own heat beneath the quilt.

Niksabella rolled over and sat with her back against the headboard, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. She watched Termund stride across the room, shirtless, his muscular frame setting off a warm tickle in her belly.

He leaped onto the bed, plopping beside her like a rock, elbow thrown out and his head resting on his fist like a god. “Sleep well?”

On impulse, she reached out and touched his arm. “Yes, thank you.”

“The dream again?”

“Aye.”

“I figured. You were growling in your sleep.”

“We had a fight.”

“You and the Prophetess?”

“Yes.”

“She made you forget again?”

Niksabella frowned. “Yes, but I’m getting stronger. She won’t be able to keep me out forever, not if she wants something from me, which I expect is the end game.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Everyone wants things.”

“Not all the time. Sometimes gnomes find gnomestresses especially attractive, or fascinating, just
because.
I’m assuming the opposite is also true.”

Niksabella couldn’t hide her grin, which might have had a lascivious edge. “Maybe. And maybe these books will help. Help me with the Prophetess, I mean.” Niksabella indicated the huge stack of them on her nightstand. Books on magick to help strengthen her wellspring, develop her natural elementalist abilities, each one bound beautifully and especially protected for a long journey.

She’d had talents as a child, Prophetess or not, and it couldn’t possibly hurt to learn more. Especially if the trip south proved to be boring.

Termund piled up the pillows on his side of the bed against the headboard and climbed to her. At the top, he leaned over and delivered a barrage of loving pecks to her forehead and cheeks, eventually finding his way to her mouth, where he dropped a lingering kiss on her waiting lips. They held one another in the soft comfort of the morning, a vertical wink of light filtering through the closed shutter.

Termund broke the silence. “You know, this will be the last time you’ll be in a proper bed for the next several weeks.”

“I’ve been thinking about that, but I think I’ll manage as long as we’re together. Will we have suitable accommodations?”

Termund laughed. “A deluxe double sleeper spread on the ground or wherever we can find a level spot. At least we will be warm.”

“That’s all I’ll need.”

Termund drew away, and she was almost angry at him for it. “We best get started,” he said. “There’s a lot to do before we depart this afternoon. And you still have some packing to do. Remember, we’re traveling light.”

Niksabella glanced at the wall clock—in and of itself a curious invention: a simple rail across the top edge of the north wall, each hour decorated with silver or gold numbering and sky-themed art, and a marker that inched its way westward through the day. At the moment, the marker was at the far end of the room. “But it’s barely past dawn.”

He patted her bare leg. “That’s the best time to get started. Up then. By the time you’re done washing, I’ll have your breakfast ready. Today marks the beginning of our life together, Nika. And I couldn’t be happier.”

Niksabella smiled at his handsome face. “Me too.”

#

The caravan assembled with furious efficiency. Uncle Brit’s team of forty-five Thrasperville gnomes and gnomestresses packed twenty ponies and four large wagons full of crates, packs, and satchels, regular supplies as well as cargo from Hightower to be taken back home.

The gnome patriarch stood in front of the Golden Cog and directed the cacophony of movement and sound—ponies snorting, tempers flaring, and patrons complaining—by adding his own voluminous shouts and wild gesticulations as he walked up and down the line. He waved those attempting to get inside the inn to a temporary route, which led directly to the side of the porch, where his gnomes had cleared the snow and placed a makeshift set of steps.

Regardless, Uncle Brit got plenty of grief from folks trying to get inside who preferred coming up the front walk.

“Quit fussing about it,” Brit growled. “It leads to the same place and a shorter path to your ale. You should be
thanking
me. No, I’m not carrying you up the steps, sir.”

From where she stood on the front porch of the Cog, Niksabella shivered beneath her thick coat. Not so much from the cold as from the prospect of adventure. Her eyes wandered up and down the line of wagons and ponies, her stomach turning with anticipation. She’d never
been outside of the city before, and their destination would take them across the entire continent; south was all she knew. A grand departure from anything resembling her previous life. She was absolutely giddy.

The four Thrasperville wagons were curious to say the least. More metal than wood, Niksabella could tell by the chassis design there was more to them than the simple transporting of supplies. She looked forward to digging into them the first chance she got.

A figure slid into her peripheral view on the left and sidled up to her. She didn’t have to look to know it was Jancy.

“Good morning, Nika. Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I imagine.”

“You’ve never been on the road before, have you?”

“I’ve never been outside of Hightower. Never slept on the ground, well, not outside at least, and I couldn’t tell you the first thing about making a camp. Any advice for a first time traveler?”

“Grab sleep whenever you can, pay attention to your surroundings, and keep Termund close.”

“I can’t speak for the first two, but I will certainly attend to the third.” Niksabella leaned against her friend and accepted Jancy’s long arm around her. “I’m going to miss you, Jancy.”

The woman looked down at her and smiled. “And I you.”

“What will you do?”

“Plenty of things to worry about here. Raulnock, for one. Keeping your brother on the straight and narrow path, for two. A potential war, for three.”

“You’re very loyal to my brother. How long have you known him?” Niksabella could practically feel Jancy’s smile even though she couldn’t see it.

“I’ve known your brother a quarter century or so.”

“That’s a long time!”

“We have… a history. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

“I would love to hear it.”

Niksabella took the tall woman’s hands and held them against her chest. “I’m not going to lie, Jancy. I’m disappointed you’re not coming along, but I’m glad you’re staying behind with Nik. He will need your help.”

Jancy touched Niksabella’s cheek. “We’ll see each other soon.”

Niksabella smiled and sighed and turned to gaze out over Seacog Harbor at the bustle of dockworkers shouting and singing old shanties as they went about their business. She and her brother had often played amongst them as gnomelings, running between the workers as all manner of vessels bobbed in the foamy sea. Conveyance crews wheeled the cargo to and fro, stacking things according to size and shape, while winch cranes swung down to hook the crates. She used to marvel at the workers balanced atop the precarious stacks, connecting the winches and riding them up and over the piers to thump down on the ships’ decks.

She recalled the
clankity-clank
vibrations of sail-less
Sea Plower
piston vessels, steam hissing from their inner works, their engines growling. Regular sailing vessels, too: tight, fast, and practical with deep holds and squat decks. Some were fitted with metal sides and an array of weaponry. When she and Nik came across occasional dwarvish, elvish, or human vessels, those were real treats. The two of them would hide behind a barrel or crate to take in the elegant ships and their bizarre crews.

A heavy feeling weighed Niksabella down, a sad certainty. She pursed her lips. “Things will be much different the next time we see each other.”

“Things are
always
different when you see someone again.”

“You know what I mean.”

Jancy pulled her tight, and Niksabella relished in the embrace. In Jancy’s strength and essence. That scent wafting off her in waves. Like flowers on a pure spring breeze, but also with a touch of winter setting in—it was as close as Niksabella could get to describing it.

Reluctantly, she slid from Jancy’s arms and turned away from the magnificent view. She cocked her head. “When are you going to remove your bandage?”

Jancy’s hand lifted as if to touch it, but then she caught herself and stopped. “I haven’t thought all that much about it.”

“You mean you’ve
tried
not to think about it.”

“Perhaps.” Jancy shrugged and looked away, at the bustle of the gnomes making preparations for the journey south.

“Well, I don’t want to press you or anything, but I think that the longer you leave it on, the harder it will be.”

Jancy seemed torn between thoughts. Suddenly, she reached for the bandage, began peeling it away from her jawline… then let go. There was struggle in her eyes, a mortifying trepidation that melted Niksabella’s heart.

She couldn’t blame her. If it were her face, she’d probably never remove it either. But it wasn’t her face, and she couldn’t possibly imagine what was going on inside Jancy’s head.

On impulse, Niksabella reached up and began pulling at the edges of the bandage, fully expecting Jancy to protest or maybe toss her off the porch. But the woman only closed her eyes and waited, so Niksabella continued, gently tearing at the sticky material made to keep the bandage in place. Fara had done very neat work, and the entire layer came off in one piece.

Niksabella stood back, stupefied. She reached up to touch Jancy’s face. “Interesting.”

Jancy caught her breath. “What is it…?”

“It’s…
beautiful
.”