15. A Word of Advice

15

A Word of Advice

Safira Chastain

I rowed my way back to the shore, where, to my deep distress, I found the new Spirekeeper standing, staring out across the water. Before I could think to flee, her gray eyes flicked over to me, and once she'd marked my presence, there was nothing for it but to go to shore. I put up the boat on the sandiest part of the beach, stepping out and pulling it halfway onto the shore.

Leyweaver didn't look at me as I did, so I had some hope of escape until she said, her voice placid, "Safira, was it?"

I cringed, trying not to show it, and turned towards her, where she still stood staring out over the water. "Yes, magus."

She turned to look at me, her face calm and almost emotionless, a blank mask. "You count him as a friend, don't you." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, magus," I said again, my mouth going dry and sweat prickling on my palms.

Sorrow flickered across her face, an expression full of pain. "I hope I don't frighten you," she said quietly. "I'm not entirely... well, but I'm... healing." The sorcerer shook her head, loose strands of hair catching in the breeze and drifting in her wake. "I just wanted to tell you to... be careful."

"Careful, magus?" I asked, wanting to escape but also confused by her words. I'd never heard a mage of any stripe talk to someone like me with this sort of candor and egalitarianism. It made me uncomfortable, but not necessarily in a bad way. Displaced, maybe.

The sorcerer smiled, an expression that didn't reach her eyes. "Powerful men can do a great deal of damage to those who love them, even when they don't intend it," she said, in a way I recognized instantly. She spoke like someone who knew that damage intimately, not like someone sharing platitudes. "Tsirisma Lake isn't inimical to our kind, but neither is he one of us. He might fuck your life over without even understanding what he's done."

I blinked at the invective, surprised.

She gave me a half-smile, a truer expression than before. "Obviously I don't know either of you, and from what I can see, he's an honorable creature. He's never broken a promise, so you can trust the things he tells you. Just... be careful." Leyweaver shook her head, turning back to the water, gripping her wrist behind her back while the breeze off the lake flirted with her hair. "You're under my protection, so I'll do my best to keep you safe, but rescues don't always... come in time," she finished at a whisper.

"You can tell he's never lied?" I asked, creeping closer. One corner of her mouth kicked up again, and my chest went tight.

But she didn't take offense to the question, or the lack of honorific. "My mage-sight is the most fine-scale ever documented," she said, the words a simple statement of fact rather than anything full of pride. "It's not hard for me to see the patterns of someone's soul. I could read his name if I wanted to, but I have no reason to hurt him." Leyweaver drew in a deep breath and sighed it out. "I had Marin put together a pack for you. It should last you the week if Tsirisma Lake keeps the perishables cold for you."

That startled me again, leaving me blinking dumbly at her. How had she known?

The sorcerer shook her head and turned away, back up towards Barixeor Spire. "I don't know if they'll all be gone by then. I hope it won't take that long, but it's hard to say. Tsirisma Lake can tell you when it's just me again, and there's no reason to put yourself in an uncomfortable position. Consider it a vacation."

"Celyn," I blurted out.

She looked towards me, raising one slim brow.

"He likes to be called Celyn, magus," I said, giving her a bow to hide my blush.

Leyweaver made a thoughtful sound, turning back up to her Spire. "Tell Celyn 'hi' for me," she said, walking away. "And call me Rain."

I stared up after her, but the sorcerer didn't look back. She simply walked up the path to the Spire with the same calm aplomb she'd done everything else. It didn't seem like who she was, though; I'd gotten very good at detecting when people were playing a role instead of being honest with their actions. Leyweaver moved like a woman who'd observed how others moved, talking with careful formality, her personality only slipping out in flashes. Maybe that was because she was new here, and she was dealing with a horde of sorcerers—but maybe it was what I'd thought when I'd first seen her. I knew what it was like to put on a mask to hide the wounds.

Contemplating my new boss could wait for later, though. I jogged up the slope to the hay shed and found not only a pack laden with food supplies, but a tarp and some slender poles to set it up as a rain-shield. Marin had left a note taped to the tarp that read only, "In case it rains," signed with her name.

I didn't bother with cooing over the largesse. I slung the heavy pack over my shoulder, scooped up the tarp and poles, and high-tailed it back to the rowboat.

Celyn didn't show himself as I rowed back towards the cove, but that was okay. Getting cuddled for an hour was probably a lot for him, and I didn't begrudge him the time necessary to contemplate that. I hoped that he wouldn't stay away too long. I liked him, and more than liked him. Cuddling a naked man who I had a crush on was enough of a lure that I couldn't really take my mind off of it, catching myself remembering the heat of his body and the way his hands had closed around mine.

I puttered around the cove for a little while, setting up the rain-shield and making my bed a little more comfortable. I hadn't thought to bring anything to keep myself entertained, nor had Marin thought to do so, and before long I grew rather bored, sitting there next to the beautiful lake. The stone I always used to summon Celyn sat in my pocket, and I pulled it out, tossing it a few times as I pursed my lips. He might just need time... but Celyn also seemed to always want me to ask him for things. Maybe he was only waiting to be called.

Well, might as well. I stood up, skipped the stone out across the waves, and plopped back down.

Less than a minute later, Celyn shoved himself up from the water, tossing his head and sending water droplets flying. Lying there in the waves, he smirked at me and held up the flat stone between two fingers. "You called?"

Grinning, I walked over and dropped down next to him, not worrying about the waves as they lapped at my feet. "You came."

Celyn held the stone out for me, as he always did. This time, though, I reached out and took it from him, letting my fingertips brush against his. His face went soft, lips parting as he lifted his chin. "You haven't changed your mind," he said in a quiet voice.

"I know humans must be little flickers to you, but I'm not that changeable," I said with a laugh, tucking the wet stone back into my pocket. It would dry soon enough, and I didn't mind the damp. "I've got no reason to want distance. I was actually hoping I could stay here until the sorcerers left."

He waited until one of the waves of the lake broke over my foot – apparently the natural action of his lake could touch me, even though he couldn't – and wrapped his strong fingers around my base ankle, his thumb caressing me. "You may always stay with me if you desire," he said, his voice alluring, low and beautiful. His thumb swept along the soft skin next to the bone of my ankle, calloused and sure. "I will hold you safe against what dangers I may."

I tried not to show how that small touch affected me, sending shivering pleasure along my skin, leaving my nipples tingling and breath catching in my throat. "Leyweaver said you've never lied."

He made a low sound, aloof amusement teasing a smile onto his face. "The sorcerer is assured of herself, is she?" Celyn asked. "She is a vivid light, but she is very young. Even a creature such as I can change."

"Don't." At his raised eyebrow, I wrinkled my nose, embarrassment warming my cheeks. "I like that you tell the truth. It's nice to know you mean what you say."

"Clear water?" he asked, still holding my ankle.

"Yeah," I said, then took a deep breath to quiet the fluttering in my chest and rolled up my pants before sticking my other foot fully into the water. "The best kind."

That smile played across his lips, a warm expression coming into his eyes. His tail swished through the water, drawing the eye to the long line of his back and the powerful muscle of his thighs. "Even clear water can hold many dangers," he said, with a hint of the temptation he could put into his voice. "There are many bones beneath my waves."

My heart beat harder, as it always did when he reminded me of his danger. But the fear of it had transmuted to a thrill since we'd first met, and instead of rousing my sense of self-preservation it sparked in me a reckless desire to see into those depths, like going outside in a hurricane to toss acorns up into the gale.

I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around my bent knee, and bit my lip with challenge in my eyes. "Maybe you can show me them someday."

His chin came up, nostrils flaring as he met my gaze with his slot-pupilled blue. "If you ask it of me, I will take you to every dark place beneath my waves."

"Maybe I will," I said, a frisson of excitement running down my spine.