14. Clear Water

14

Clear Water

Safira Chastain

D espite the safety of Barixeor Spire, despite the luxury of a thick mattress and soft sheets, I had never once slept as well within the walls of the Spire as I did on Celyn's shore. Knowing that he would stay there, watching over me, let me relax at last, all the fear slipping away. I dreamt, not of my lost life or of being in the wizard's clutches again, but of floating in the lake on my back with Celyn buoying me, watching white birds wheel through the blue, blue sky. When I woke with the dawn, I brought that ease into the day with me.

Celyn lay next to me, his strong fingers resting in my hair, and when I smiled sleepily at him, he looked like he'd been the one done a great service. Looking at him, all of my reticence at touching him seemed so silly. Bash had been right; Celyn was no more or less dangerous than the collection of sorcerers gathering in the Spire, or even a simple minotaur. He'd killed people who'd tried to enslave him, and he'd offered his water and fish to everyone else. He saved children and watered gardens.

He called me beautiful, and I laced my fingers with his.

Celyn whimpered, his whole body tensing and his eyes going unfocused. A shudder ran down his body, his pulse visible in his throat and his mouth opening as he panted. Very slowly, he closed his fingers against mine.

I bit my lip, the hairs on my arms raising with a sensation like standing in a cathedral while music resonated through the room. I recognized the tingling that ran down my spine and settled like butterflies in my stomach. It probably should have frightened me, but instead I wanted to laugh from the sheer joy of it. How stupid of me, to have a crush on a water-horse. And yet, how wonderful, to have the chance to know someone like him. I wouldn't have traded this moment for the world.

His eyes focused back on my face, an expression of desperate yearning overtaking his overwhelmed expression. "Safira," he whispered, his voice unsteady. "You are touching me again. "

The rawness of his words felt like watching the sun rise, delight thrumming in my chest. I gave his hand a squeeze, unable to stop smiling. "Do you like it?"

"Yes." Celyn lifted his other hand and brushed my hair away from my face, running his calloused thumb along my cheek. His hand started shaking, and he steadied it by burying his fingers in my hair before leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine, breathing hard. "Yes, I like it very much."

"If you come a little closer, I'll cuddle you," I offered, happiness lighting my soul.

He lifted his eyes to mine, nose running along my skin and warm breath fanning against my face in a way that made my breath hitch. "What is that?"

"Roll over and find out."

Celyn swallowed, then gave me a faint nod and did. He kept contact with my skin as he did, settling my hand on his shoulder as he put his back to me. His shoulders hunched into a shy, nervous posture, and his tail swished. "Like this, Safira?" he asked, sounding as nervy as a young horse facing a rider for the first time.

In answer, I draped my blankets over his side, then wrapped my arm around him and tugged him backwards. Celyn scooted back against me with a low sound of pleasure, halfway to a whicker, then whimpered again when I fit my body to his. I was wearing clothes, of course, but everywhere my skin was bare now pressed against Celyn's warm body: my arms, one beneath his neck and one wrapped around his broad chest; a thin slice of my stomach against his bare back; my feet tangled up with his legs. My whole body focused on those places, my skin coming alive with heated sensation.

His hands found mine again, shaking as he put his fingers between mine and held me as if I might vanish.

"Still good?" I asked. His hair fell against my face, the scent of the lake filling my lungs.

"Yes," he said, the word thick with emotion. He didn't say anything else, holding my hands while I spooned him from behind, but I didn't need him to. Celyn had never been touched kindly, let alone affectionately, and this had to be a lot to get used to.

We lay there for at least an hour as the sun rose higher in the sky and the air warmed. I had nowhere I needed to be; the garden didn't need much attention, and though I had some tasks to do in the greenhouses, I wasn't about to go back into Barixeor while it was crammed to the gills with sorcerers. So I stayed with Celyn, tucked away in a secret cove, giving a water-horse the first affectionate contact he'd ever received. Water-horses were solitary creatures, but even solitary creatures can like being cared for from time to time, and Celyn sought me out far too often to be someone who disliked companionship.

He relaxed by fractions until he melted against me—then started leaning towards me, pressing closer. I didn't mind needing to brace myself. I knew the feeling of wanting to burrow into someone, and even if that wasn't exactly what Celyn was experiencing, it had to be something close.

"I suppose I should go fetch breakfast," I said at last, sighing into Celyn's hair.

He huffed out a breath, and for a moment his fingers tightened on mine in silent protest. But rather than linger, Celyn let me go, releasing my hands and pushing himself out from under my blankets, breaking all physical contact. He tossed his head in an equine motion, then flashed me a smile, his expression nervous. "It is well, though, still?" he asked. "You are not displeased with my watchfulness?"

I sat up, the blankets pooling at my waist, then reached out and touched my fingertips to his jaw. "I'm just hungry, Celyn," I said when he shivered, his eyes closing. "I haven't slept so well since I came here."

His hand came up to wrap around mine, warm and strong, and Celyn pressed my fingers against his cheek, running them against his stubble. He opened his eyes again, black lashes sweeping up, and looked into my face. "And you... enjoy this? Touching me?"

"I do," I said, keeping my voice quiet. "You're my friend. I know you won't hurt me."

"No harm will ever come to you in my waters," Celyn said, one corner of his mouth lifting into a soft smile. "I mean you no ill."

"I know." I swept my thumb against his face, my heart skipping a beat when I ran my sensitive skin across the corner of his mouth. "You're the holly. You feed and shelter those who mean you know harm, and reserve your thorns for enemies." At his hopeful smile, I grinned. "You're Tsirisma Lake, who sees the years in their thousands and meets the world as part of it. You let the deer and wolves drink on the same shore, and you carry boats and water gardens. You're clear water, Celyn, all the way through."

Celyn turned his head, running the tips of my fingers across his lips before lacing his fingers through mine and settling our hands down on my blankets. "What is your desire, Safira?" he asked. "Tell me, and I will try to give it to you."

My heartbeat quickened from the brush of his mouth and at those calmly-spoken words, silver desire shimmering across me. Celyn had no idea about romance. He wasn't trying to seduce me. Water-horses might not even have sex; they certainly didn't reproduce the way sexual creatures did. My reactions were my own, and I wouldn't put my relationship with him at risk because of a stupid little crush.

"I don't... really want to go back to Barixeor until the sorcerers are gone," I admitted, make a self-deprecating expression as I looked down at our joined hands. His hands were strong and pale, the black fingernails stark against his skin. My own brown, nail-bitten fingers looked slim and delicate against his, ever-present dirt darkening the curve of my fingernails. "I have to eat, though, so maybe you could carry me back to the landing spit? "

Celyn went very still, his fingers tightening against mine. "You wish to... ride me?" he asked, sounding tense.

I flushed, jerking my eyes up to his wide ones. "No! I meant in the boat!" I blurted out.

Emotion flickered across his face too quickly for me to identify, before he tilted his head, brows drawing together. "It is not more dangerous to sit upon my back than to hold my hand," he pointed out quietly. "It is no more trouble for me to carry you in that way than any other."

"That's— I know that," I said, my cheeks tight with embarrassment and my heart pounding. I wanted to take my hand away in automatic fear, but didn't, leaving our fingers entwined. "They might see, though, and... get the wrong idea."

He slipped his fingers from mine, breaking contact again. Setting me free, giving me space. "If that is your concern, perhaps you should bend your strength to the oar," Celyn said, with an air of arch amusement. "Trailing your fingers through my waves is no less dangerous."

"Well... okay." I flashed him a smile, then got out of bed. I hesitated for a moment when I opened my pack—but Celyn was always naked. Half-undressing in front of him wouldn't be like undressing in front of a man. He only had a concept of clothing because he saw people wearing it.

As soon as I went to pull off my shirt, though, Celyn got up off the ground as a horse, giving himself a shake. I looked over at him, letting go of my hem. He was beautiful as a horse, his coat soft gray with black-barred legs and a long black stripe down his spine. "May I?" I asked, holding out my hand.

He whickered at me, a friendly sound, and I stroked my hand down his velvet neck once before he leaped past me, diving beneath the waves without so much as a ripple.