Page 49 of The Half King
“She’s at home,” Daerick said flatly. “Recovering from the ten seconds you gave her last night.”
Kian clapped a hand to his heart. “You wound me, Lord Calatris.”
“Yes, well, I’d shoot you an ugly look to go with it, but you already have one.” Daerick squinted at Kian’s new features. “What did Padron do to your face?”
“You don’t like it? I think it’s rather—”
“Uncanny?” Daerick offered.
“I was going to say roguish. Uncanny works.”
Cerise caught herself smiling. She ducked her head and whispered to Blue, “These boys are a silly breed, aren’t they?”
“I heard that.” Daerick stroked his wiry beard. “Could a mere boy produce anything as fine as this?”
Kian snorted. “Unlike your other parts, at least the beard can keep growing.”
“Would the two of you like to trade insults all day?” Cerise asked. “Or should we go and meet our guide?”
Daerick glanced at Kian. “No reason why we can’t do both.”
“Indeed. Mount your sweaty beast, Lord Calatris.” Kian chuckled under his breath. “I think I’ll name mine after your sister.”
Daerick tapped his ear. “Sorry, I can’t understand you.Buffoonisn’t one of the many languages I speak.”
Cerise bit back a laugh as she approached the horses, all of which greeted her with bowed heads. While she took turns rubbing their forelocks and listening to the jokes unfold in the background, a horrible feeling bloomed in her chest.
How fleeting this moment was. How soon it could all end if they failed to find the Petros Blade. And even if they did find the blade, they still had to learn the exact method of undoing the curse. Only five moons remained until Daerick’s Claiming Day. And not much longer after that, Kian would run out of time. To lose either of them was unthinkable.
The thought made her breath hitch.
“We’ll ask Cerise,” Daerick said, returning her to the present. “What do ladies want more: brains or brawn?”
As Daerick tapped his head and Kian playfully nudged him aside to flex his biceps, she focused on both of them, painting a mental picture to preserve the memory. She took in Daerick’s scraggly beard and his easy smile, the wit that glowed within him like a second sun. Then she moved her gaze to Kian, to the storm-cloud eyes that could see parts of herself she hadn’t known were there. At some point during her short time at the palace, both of them had become her family. It had happened by accident, but she knew without a doubt that the bond was real.
She wanted to remember them exactly like this.
“Neither,” she teased, smiling and blinking her eyes dry. “The goddess achieved perfection when she created women. We want for nothing.”
12
Several hours later, Cerise was in want of a great many things, chief among them a bath and a generous dusting of medicated powder. She never wanted to travel on horseback again. She felt sorry for the animals, adapted as they were to the Mortara heat, but she felt even sorrier for her backside and her sweat-dampened thighs, which chafed with each bounce in the saddle. She gave her horse—a gray-spotted gelding she’d nicknamed Ash—a scratch on the neck to thank him. He probably wasn’t enjoying himself, either.
She hadn’t fully appreciated how strong an enchantment the priests had woven over the royal lands. Magic shielded the palace in a protective bubble that dulled the sun’s fury by a few precious degrees. She missed that bubble. The scarf covering her head provided protection from the sun but gave her little relief from the heat. The scorching wind blowing over the fabric made her feel like an acorn roasting on a harvest bonfire.
Daerick and Kian were more accustomed to the elements, though they had no more insults to share. All teasing died as soon as they left the palace grounds. The only member of their party seemingly unaffected by the sun was Blue, who rode in his sling, barking at desert lizards, sniffing the wind, and consuming so little water that Cerise suspected he had been sired by a camel instead of a goblin.
“I’m not saying it’s hot out here,” Daerick announced from his horse in front of her. “But rumor has it the goats give evaporated milk.”
Cerise laughed. “And the beets come from the ground fully cooked?”
“No beets,” Kian said from behind. “But you might find a sand melon if you know where to look.” He pointed to a brown tangle of thorns growing in the shade of a long-dead tree. The brambles were so well camouflaged that she had to squint to see them. “The fruit grows at the bottom, all the way under the thorns. You’ll tear up your arms trying to get one, but it’s worth it if you’re desperate enough.”
Cerise tucked away that knowledge and hoped she would never need it. “What about our guide?” she called ahead to Daerick. “You haven’t told us who you hired.”
“That was deliberate,” Daerick said. “To give you plausible deniability, in case Father Padron asked you any questions about our plans today.”
“He hasn’t said a word to me since I saw him in the kennels,” Cerise told Daerick. “I think he’s lost interest in me.”
