The Outworlder (10 page)

“What did you say?”

“You said it, not me!” she laughed. When he
stared at her stupidly, her smile faded and she shook her head.
“Sorry…I thought you’d said something.”

He shook his head slowly. “No. I didn’t say
anything.”

“Oh.” She turned away again with a little
sigh. “So, will you help me?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” On a sudden impulse, she laid
her hand over his and gave it a gentle squeeze as she turned to
leave. She gave a little gasp of surprise when he caught her
hand.

“Sahara….”

His heart was pounding as though he were
heading into battle. He saw a flush spread over her cheeks as he
held her gaze, and he took a breath to try to speak. But before he
could get the words out, she pulled her hand out of his and
retreated a few steps down the orchard side of the bridge.

“I have to go,” she said.

“Sahara, wait!”

But she was already gone, running lightly
through the grass of the orchard. He watched her until she
disappeared over the top of the hill, then turned and grasped the
stone parapet of the bridge with both hands.

“What the hell,” he said, bowing his head and
taking a deep breath. “What’s wrong with me?”

The sun had already set and the western sky
was yielding its blaze of colors to the creeping night shadows when
Jared finally knocked on Sahara’s door to pick her up for the
festival. It opened under his hand.

“There you are!” And then, hurriedly, she
added, “I was afraid you might not come in time…I don’t want to be
late.”

“Are you ready?”

“Almost. I just…please come in for a minute.”
She stood aside to let him enter, then asked, “What were you
reading earlier, anyway? When I interrupted you at the library, I
mean?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” he said.
“Tonight is for you.” She shot him a quick glance, demanding an
explanation. He smiled reassuringly. “You’ve worked so hard—tonight
is your night to delight everyone with your newfound charm.”

She smiled then. “Well, only if I don’t screw
it up,” she said. “I’m still not sure about this. I don’t think
I’ve changed that much…not really. Not inside.”

Jared sat down on the low divan in front of
the fireplace, and Sahara settled herself in a chair near him.

“I see you’ve been improving things here
too,” he remarked, looking admiringly around the room.

The divan was covered in a soft cream-colored
fabric with the faintest pattern worked into it, and silken
cushions in hues of rich red and gold were scattered on it. There
were flowers everywhere—on the mantle, next to her bed, clustered
in an enormous vase near the colonnaded windows—and they gave the
air a gentle fragrance.

“Well, as you always say, it’s either this or
the desert.” Sahara looked around and then added quietly, “You
know, I’ve never had a place of my own like this before. I feel
so…so free.”

He nodded. His gaze drifted over the room
again, falling suddenly on something shining underneath the flowers
clustered on the mantle. He rose to investigate and, with a short
laugh, took the object down. It was a sword in a silver sheath.

“Well,” he said, “I guess some things will
never change.”

A look of relief flooded Sahara’s face. “I
hid it under the flowers hoping you wouldn’t notice it,” she
confessed. “I’m trying, Jared, I really am!”

“I told you before, Sahara. You’re a warrior.
But you’re not just a warrior. I didn’t mean for you to hide who
you are. I just wanted you to discover how much more you could be.”
He slipped the sword back into its place among the flowers. “For
tonight, just be yourself…but without the sword, please.”

“What about my dagger?”

“Do you mean to tell me that you’ve got that
dagger hidden somewhere in that dress?” he blurted without
thinking.

“Yes, right here.” She patted her thigh.

Jared stared at her for a moment, then burst
out laughing. “Rule number one: no flashing that dagger at the
party. Wear it if you must, but don’t show it to anyone.
Agreed?”

Sahara shrugged a little and then smiled. “No
problem. Anything else before we go?”

Jared rubbed his chin and considered for a
moment. “Better not talk about the Dragon-Lords. This is supposed
to be a party, after all. And that tends to dampen people’s
spirits.” He paused, then added, “And have fun, Sahara.”

“That’s it?”

He nodded. “That’s it.”

“What about all that stuff about which fork
to use?”

Jared grinned. “That has its time and place,
but not tonight. Tonight I just want you to enjoy yourself.”

“That makes me nervous,” she said,
sighing.

“You’ll be absolutely fine. Let’s go.”

He rose and offered her his hand, and Sahara
hesitated. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand in his.

The courtyard of the Great House was ablaze
with torches and candles. Under the eastern colonnade stood several
long tables, heaped with all manner of meats, breads, fruits, and
sweets. Great casks of ale had been rolled up from the tavern, and
men were busy filling their tankards. There were also bottles of
some sparkling fruity drink clustered on a special table, and Jared
poured a glass of it for Sahara to try. She tipped her head back
and downed it in a single draught.

“It’s like…like drinking sunshine!” Sahara
said, setting her empty glass on the table.

“Yes, but be careful with that stuff,” Jared
warned. “It’s called
estevalia
, and though it doesn’t taste
like it, it’ll knock you out faster than that ale over there.”

Sahara smiled and held out her glass. “Then I
think I’ll have another.”

Jared left her sitting on the edge of the
fountain, happily sipping her drink. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he
said. “Don’t fall in the fountain while I’m gone, okay? And don’t
drink any more of the fizzy stuff, either!”

*****

Sahara watched Jared shoulder his way into
the throng of people, feeling at once a strange thrill in the pit
of her stomach and a wave of emptiness, as if she were suddenly
alone in the world. She shook her head with a frown, and then
drained the second glass of
estevalia
.

As she set her glass beside her, the music
began. The melody was beautiful—haunting and a little sad—but its
insistent throbbing bass summoned her to dance. It was music that
admitted sorrow, but insisted on life. Sahara had never danced
before, nor even felt the urge to do so, but already her feet were
tapping the gray stones.

“Sahara!”

She glanced up, startled, and found Kirin
standing in front of her. Her buoyant mood evaporated suddenly, and
she scowled at him.

“What do you want?”

“I was hoping you’d forgiven me,” he said.
“May I sit?”

Sahara moved her glass and regarded him
warily. “You aren’t going to force-feed me anything again, are
you?”

Kirin laughed. “No fear of that! But I will
get you another glass of
estevalia
, if you like.”

Sahara hesitated, remembering Jared’s
warning. “Maybe in a little while.”

Kirin was surveying her boldly and she felt
her skin prickle. “Beautiful,” he murmured. Sahara shrugged and
smiled, rubbing her bare arms. After a moment he asked, obviously
trying to sound casual, “Where’s Jared?”

“Why?” She was on her guard again
immediately.

“He just always seems to be hanging around
wherever you are, that’s all.”

Sahara bristled. “What’s that supposed to
mean?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Should it mean
something?”

Sahara’s eyes narrowed. “Look, I’ve just
forgiven you. I’d hate to have to throw you in the fountain and
cause a scene.”

Kirin laughed softly. “I’d love to throw you
in the fountain and cause a scene.”

Sahara stood up, annoyed to find her legs so
unsteady beneath her.
I shouldn’t have drunk so much
, she
thought. She moved to slap Kirin across the face, but he caught
her, firmly but not cruelly, by the wrist.

“Let go of my wrist, Kirin.”

“Would you like to dance?”

The question was so unexpected that she
wasn’t sure how to answer. She glanced toward the southern end of
the courtyard where the band was playing. A crowd had already
gathered there, swaying to the rhythm. She felt the music flooding
through her, calling to her.

“Come on, Sahara,” Kirin pleaded, getting to
his feet, “let’s dance.”

She studied him for a moment, commanding her
mind to focus, and collected herself. “No thanks.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know how, for one thing.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that! I can teach
you.”

He was grinning eagerly at her, and she began
to feel a flutter of nerves in the pit of her stomach. Pushy. He
was always too pushy. Like the spoonful of honey. Too insistent.
She pulled her wrist out of his grasp.

“No, that’s fine. I think I’ll just stay here
and watch.”

She turned away, hoping that he would take
the hint and leave. He didn’t.

“I bet you’d dance with Jared if he asked
you.”

Sahara turned on him fiercely, but checked
herself just in time, remembering that she was at a party and was
supposed to behave herself. “So what if I would?”

“So it’s not dancing that scares you,” he
continued, his smile widening. “It’s me.”

“Nothing about you scares me, Kirin.”

Kirin laughed. “So you say. But this is a
different game now, Sahara. You’re acting the lady tonight—no
daggers at a party, I’m sure Jared told you. And I know you think
being a lady makes you vulnerable, makes you weak.”

It took Sahara a moment to process what he
was saying. “What has that got to do with anything?” she
snapped.

“Are you afraid of being weak?” He was
uncomfortably close now, leaning toward her and speaking in a near
whisper. “Are you afraid of what I might be capable of?”

Sahara wrinkled her nose at him and arched
her eyebrows. “Kirin, I wish you’d get over yourself. I can change
the rules of this game any time I choose. I’m acting like a lady
right now because I want to, but don’t for a second make the
mistake of thinking that I’ve actually changed. Continue invading
my personal space and you’ll regret it.”

Kirin suddenly took a step back and ducked
his head. Sahara started to smile, congratulating herself silently
on her victory, but then she realized that Kirin wasn’t looking at
her. He had seen someone standing behind her.

“I was just reserving your place for you,
Jared,” he said.

Sahara turned to see if Jared was really
there. He was, and when she saw that little half-smile on his face,
the one she found at once so very unsettling and so reassuring, she
knew he had overheard her little speech. She couldn’t help the
flush that instantly warmed her cheeks.

“Thanks, Kirin,” Jared replied. “I’ll be
happy to take it back now.”

Kirin turned on his heel, spearing a
particularly malignant glare in Jared’s direction as he left. As
she watched him slink away, she suddenly understood what had just
happened. As soon as Jared sat down on the fountain, Sahara lashed
out at him.

“You’re like animals!”

“I—beg your pardon?” he said.

“You and Kirin. Like animals!” When he simply
blinked at her, she explained, “I’m your territory. He respects
your turf. That’s why he left. Because of you!”

Jared grinned. “Oh, that’s what’s chafing
you, is it? That it wasn’t your brave words but my strong and
silent presence that scared him off?”

She could tell he was teasing her, but she
wasn’t about to let him off with a jest.

“Yes, it’s chafing me!” She swore so
viciously that even Jared winced in surprise, and added, “I
hate
this game!”

Jared laughed aloud then. “I heard what you
said. About all this being your choice, or not.”

“I’m sure that must chafe
you
.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He paused for a moment,
looking like he had a confession to make, then he said, “I left you
here by yourself to find something out.”

“You didn’t send Kirin over here, did
you?”

Her horrified expression made him laugh
again. “I would never do that. Not even to my worst enemy.”

“So what were you trying to find out, then?”
She crossed her arms and waited.

“I just wanted to see whether all this had
really changed you or not. The stupid etiquette lessons, the pretty
dress.”

Sahara felt like she was at the bar of
judgment with an absolute enigma for a judge. “You were testing
me?” she asked finally.

“Yes.”

“And?”

He glanced up at her and smiled again. “And
it hasn’t changed you at all. Just like you said.”

She studied him intensely, trying to figure
out whether this was a good result or a bad one, and trying to
figure out why she cared so much. “So what does that mean?”

“It means,” Jared said, “that I’d like to ask
you to dance.” He held out his hand, and, when she hesitated, he
arched his eyebrows and said, “Let’s dance, Sahara.”

She slowly put her hand in his and let him
lead her into the throng of other dancers. After a moment of
feeling the rhythm of the drums in her chest and under her feet,
she forgot all her irritation and smiled in genuine joy.

For the next few minutes, Sahara was
completely absorbed in keeping time to the music. The sensation was
so new, so strange, that everything else faded into the background.
But once she found she had a natural sense of rhythm, she began to
notice her surroundings again. The subtle roughness of Jared’s
linen shirt under her fingers, the gentle breeze that somehow made
its way through the bodies around them.

“You dance very well,” he remarked.

“Really?” She smiled at him. “I’ve never
danced before in my life, but it’s like it’s in my blood. The
rhythm, I mean. It’s…” She took a deep breath. “I’ve never felt
anything like it before. I feel so alive…so free.”