Page 36 of Omen of ice
“I— You— You’re impossible.”
“Thank you. That’s quite a compliment.”
She grumbles something, and I know that my attempts to distract her haven’t done any good.
“Like I said, it looked complicated. I bet plenty of druids have messed it up.”
She lets out a laugh that borders on frantic, then melts into a fit of hysterical giggles. I have no idea what I’ve said that’s this funny, but at least she’s laughing. “I’m the first druid to use that sigil in a very long time,” she finally explains.
“Oh. Well, I…um…” Now I have no idea what to say.
“Even the smallest miscalculation in the lines can have vastly different results with a sigil like that.”
Gods. “What kind of results?”
She rests a hand against her side. When she realizes what she’s done, she stiffens and sits up taller in the saddle. Gods forbid she look vulnerable. “We seem to be linked. The injury you received manifested in me.”
That could be potentially disastrous—for both of us. “Do you suppose it works both ways?”
Her scowl fades, giving way to a truly wicked smile. “Let’s find out.” She pinches her thigh—hard.
I swallow the urge to yelp. “Good news—I felt it. We’ve now proven that it works both ways.”
“How,” she says, brows disappearing beneath her hair, “is thatgoodnews?”
“It’s possible thatgoodis a slightly exaggerated term for the situation.” I grin. “Unless you take into consideration the recreational possibilities. I wonder…” I run my finger across my bottom lip with a featherlight touch.
She gasps and slaps a hand over her mouth. “Stop that!”
“Apologies. I’m just trying to lighten your mood.” I wasn’t sure she’d feel it. Whatever happened to link us came on suddenly. Because of the injury?
“That’s not a possibility, since now I have to go back to the Winter Court and tell Orbik that—”
I hold up my hand. “There’s no need to tell my uncle what happened today. In fact, it’d be far wiser if we kept this between us, at least for now.”
She stares, open-mouthed. “I don’t know how to fix this!”
“We’ll figure it out.”
She rests her left hand against the wound again, fingers curling into the dressing. The pressure of it is a ghost at my side. “And I don’t know if it will get worse.”
In that moment, there’s something strangely vulnerable about her. She’s deadly, but she’s also just as insecure beneath her mask as I am. She tries so hard to hide it, and maybe it’s because of this thing that’s happened between us, but I can see it just as clearly as I can my own hand. I see her differently. Not as a guard or even as a woman, but as someone I want to protect with unfamiliar ferocity. It’s strange and unwelcome, but I can’t stop the soothing platitudes. “We’ll take it one day at a time. We’ll figure this out together.”
“Oh. So now it’sweand notme?” She snorts. “That changed quickly.”
“I told you. I’ve made peace with your presence, Fungus. We’re stuck with each other.”
She seems like she wants to argue, but she says nothing, instead threading her hand through her hair before straightening in her saddle.
I gather my reins, trying to shake away the ghostly feeling of her fingers running over my scalp.
…
Despite my protests, we travel through the night, making it back to the estate by late morning. I informed Orbik what we’d discovered at the village—leaving out, of course, the scuffle that ended in both of us getting a nice new hole in the gut. As predicted, the Winter Lord decided not to act. Tania fumed silently beside me, and I excused myself, telling her that I was retiring for the rest of the day. I gently suggested she do the same.
I try and try, but sleep doesn’t come. Normally in cases like this, I’d simply wander down to the courtyard, possibly the ballroom, and find myself a companion. There’s always activity at the estate, at all hours of the day and night. But after Kitara…
Draining the last of the wine I have and knowing I’m in for a long night, I set out in search of more. Past the gates of the east wing and into the kitchen, I find the cabinet has been emptied and a note left from Kopic stating the Winter Lord wishes to keep the rest of his wine hidden. The bastard even has the nerve toapologize.
