Threads of Desire (Spellcraft) (6 page)

He lifted his goblet to his lips but nearly dropped it when she rose smoothly to her feet and pulled the tie of her robe loose, letting the cool silk fall from her shoulders and whisper to the ground. His face grew intent, his eyes hungry, as she paced around the low table to sit on its edge. The dishes had been cleared, but oil lamps still burned on either side of her.

He’d told her once that he wanted her like this. That he’d spent that first night they’d dined together wanting to eat
her
instead. She spread her legs and leaned back on her braced arms. Slowly, carefully, he set aside his drink and came to her. He gripped her knees, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Rael is beside the door. Tasha will come soon to light the other lamps.” His gaze dropped to her breasts, her belly, lower. His nostrils flared slightly and his eyes hooded.

“I’m sure.”

He came to his knees and undid the ties of his breeches. Otherwise, he remained clothed as he wedged himself between her thighs. He braced his arms to either side of her, swept her with another hungry gaze and looked her in the eyes. “You’re beautiful, Ily.”

She knew he believed so, knew he was surrounded by beautiful women, wealthy, young beautiful women who fawned over him. But she was the one who was here beneath him now.

His hot, damp mouth tasted her throat and she moaned. He’d learned all of her most sensitive spots, showed her more every day. But he didn’t need to seduce her. She’d been planning this all evening as she watched him eat. Her thighs were wet with wanting. Her skin flushed. Her nipples peaked. And he was lingering over her. A summer breeze when she wanted monsoon.

“Please.”

A shudder ran the length of his body. He lowered his mouth to tongue her nipple. She dropped her head back as he took his cock in his hand and guided himself inside her. He yanked her hips forward so she was barely sitting on the edge of the table. But it didn’t matter. His hands held her steady as he fell into a powerful driving rhythm. She watched him. She liked that he was clothed, wearing his finest while she was spread on his table with nothing to cover her but his hands and body. He pulled her hard against him and her arms went out from under her. She started to push herself up, but he forced her down by moving over her. Bracing his arms to either side of her body and staring down.

“Touch your breasts. I want your nipples hard.”

His voice was rough and she did as he asked, kneading at her breasts and then rolling her nipples between her fingers.

“Harder.”

“Harder,” she echoed, and he rammed into her, deep and sure.

From the shadows, someone dragged in a heavy breath.

Kal heard it too. He smiled, arched his back and kissed her breast while he continued to fuck her in tight, shallow strokes. All of her attention focused on remaining very still so he didn’t slip away. He bit her and she jerked. His cock slipped out, plunged back in. She was close and she locked her legs around his waist. He brushed the hair from her face and kissed her temple, the side of her nose, occasionally whispering her name over her skin.

She liked the way her name sounded on his lips and thought he might like the same. Pressing her mouth to the soft lobe of his ear, she whispered, “Kal.”

He groaned, moved his weight to one arm and reached the other between their crashing bodies. He found the slick knot with his fingertips, circling her with sure firm strokes.

“Kal,” she said again, because she liked the way his body tightened. “Kal, Kal.”

His cock swelled, growing harder, and his pace became nearly urgent.

“Kal.”

He pinched her, and his lips parted on a broken sigh. This was what she’d wanted...to see him shattered and helpless, desperate and needy. She came as his body trembled above her, his eyes squeezed shut as he found his own release. It was like surrendering to her magic. This was magic.

Even better, because this could be shared.

Chapter Eight

Rael accompanied him to the warehouse, a silent and disapproving shadow stalking him through the twisting streets. A blot on the cloudless day. Kal wanted to see Nira, and Rael thought he visited too often. He thought that Kal should have told Ily the truth before bringing her into his home.

No stomach for risk, Rael. But he adored Nira nearly as much as Kal himself did. He’d protect her with his life, and that was all Kal could ask of him. There was no better servant in all of Saria. More brother than not, which was why Rael felt comfortable turning his head to regard his master with open disgust.

“We could be gone from Lasura by now.”

“Lasura is my home, Rael, and yours. It’s not such an awful place to be in the full flush of spring with the trade winds casting the wealth of the empire upon our shores. We’ll be gone long before summer fully settles on the city.”

Everyone who could do so fled the capital when summer came. When the sun bleached the stones, the heat sucked the air from your lungs and even the water in the fountains failed to bring relief. Kal had always stayed in the city as had his father before him. Their home was situated high enough to catch the wind off the ocean, and he was wealthy enough to be able to purchase ice from the mountains and guild-spelled marble to keep the villa bearably cool.

This summer he would be gone. In fact, he was unlikely to return until the emperor called the court to assemble again in the spring. Provided that all went as planned and Ily agreed to his proposition.

“Nira—”

“Don’t speak her name,” Kal snapped. Rael flinched and he moderated his tone. “Regardless of your opinion that I’ve mishandled Ily, we can’t afford to be careless. Not now.”

“My apologies, Saer. I won’t misspeak again.”

Kal clapped him on the shoulder and they turned from the main thoroughfare that passed north and south through the city. He knew the slip hadn’t been intentional—Rael was rarely careless. Perhaps they both needed the reminder. Last night, with Ily warm and sated in his arms, he’d almost told her. That Seli had noticed the guild mark on her wrist when she’d shielded the orphan boy from Calef. That Seli had then promptly sold that information to Kal, who’d found out all he could about the guild-trained artist living in the Southton slums.

He hadn’t believed it at first. She wouldn’t have been the first person to mark the tattoo on her wrist in an attempt to deceive her customers. He’d sent Rael to discover what he could and Rael had returned with the information that yes, she was guild trained. There’d been some sort of scandal at the University involving the guildmaster, and Ily had been quietly cast out in disgrace. The guild was secretive about the details, saying only that they no longer sanctioned her work.

Kal had been touring his vineyards then. It had been high summer, so the event had passed by largely unnoticed by the court. Karak’s man told Rael that his master had been approached by the girl but he’d turned her away, not wanting to risk the guildmaster’s displeasure. That was three years ago. Rael hadn’t been able to learn anything of her from that point on. She’d disappeared without a trace.

Three years
. Kal strongly suspected that she’d been living here, in the Southton slums all that time. Lanel sending his pet to the villa yesterday only reinforced that belief. Truly remarkable, that. No one from the guild had come to his home for well over a year, but two weeks after taking Ily under his roof and there was Randal at his gate with a beautiful sample of work from the Dravon weaver. Soft as water! Thread that never fades! A design that changes with the seasons!

Kal tossed the dog out after he’d hinted that Ily was unstable and that Kal, for the sake of the continued health and well-being of his household, should deliver her to the University. He hadn’t mentioned the conversation to Ily, feeling that it would needlessly upset her. She stiffened in his arms whenever the guild was mentioned, and he had no intention of delivering her to anyone, let alone Lanel Hasson.

The accusation was ridiculous in any case. If the guild truly believed Ily was unstable, they’d have killed her immediately. Didn’t he know the truth of that better than most? Ily was the most level-headed person of his acquaintance, so carefully contained that he’d come to view it as a personal challenge to entice her to relax. Lanel had simply wanted Kal to know that he was being watched and his warning—
his threat
—came because he didn’t want Kal nosing around in guild business.

All of it only made him more curious about the cause of Ily’s dispute with the guild, but he couldn’t press her on that point. Despite the fact that she’d come to trust him, he still sensed that she would take flight like a startled dove if threatened. He badly wanted her trust. Ironic, considering he’d yet to trust her with his own secrets.

The rub of it was that he happened to agree with Rael. He
should
have been truthful with her from the beginning, but it was far too late to turn back now. He had to choose his moment wisely. It would have been wrong to make his confession last night, with Ily curled in his arms and the scent of sex still in the air.

He didn’t want to lose her.

He couldn’t risk Nira who was his heart, soul, all of his life. He
wouldn’t
risk Nira...not even for Ily. He slowed his step and Rael, ever mindful, came instantly alert.

It was the fabric that caught his attention, the sheen catching the sun when the man stepped through a shaft of light between two leaning buildings. Everyone else in this part of town, including Kal, wore the coarse sleeveless tunics of workmen. Leather leggings that ended just below the knee. Kal wore leather sandals too, but people here were as like to be barefoot as not. His feet weren’t hard enough to manage the distance barefoot. Ily would be amused.

He nudged Rael, tipping his head slightly to indicate the man hiding within the shadow of a doorway to their right. A small yellow cat darted ahead of them, leaped onto a short wall and sat down as if ready to watch some entertainment. The man could belong to anyone. Kal was casually watched by a half-dozen of the other trade houses with whom he was currently negotiating for ships and services. The emperor and the guild kept tabs on everyone, and normally Kal took no more notice of them than a dog noticed fleas. But not today...today he couldn’t be followed.

He kept walking as he passed the spy, but Rael stopped to confront him directly. The street twisted and within twenty steps Kal was out of sight. A quick run down a side alley and over the crumbling stone wall of the inn. He passed through the courtyard and paused beside the well. Forn was the boy’s name who perked up, rising to his feet with a smile. He gave a fine imitation of a court bow and held out a hand into which Kal dropped two coppers.

“Whistle twice if anyone else hops the wall.”

Kal cuffed his head lightly and stepped inside the inn. They served wine and food in the front room, although it was stuffy in the poorly ventilated space and most people chose to take their meal into the courtyard. In truth, he could see for himself if anyone followed, but Forn had helped him before and what was two coppers?

He swatted at a fly and claimed a seat in the corner to sip his wine. Laduri from the farms to the east. The soil was poor there and the wine had an unpleasant aftertaste, opened too soon. But he drank it and waited until he felt reasonably confident that he hadn’t been followed.

To be certain, when he left the inn, he took a circuitous route to the warehouse, pausing twice more so that he could watch the road behind him. An hour later, his nose was filled with the scent of brine and fish, his ears assaulted by the shrewish squawk of gulls. One last look over his shoulder and he crossed the street to jog up the short flight of stairs into one of his warehouses. The one most people were least interested in, housing only the trinkets he sold at the marketplace not the casks of wine that were more valuable than gold.

He nodded toward the guards stationed inside the doors and passed directly to the upper level. He paused on the threshold then quietly closed the door behind him. Somehow—he’d never understood it—she was always the first to know he was there. Today, she was seated nearest to the door, as if she’d been patiently waiting for him to arrive though he’d sent no word. Her straight black hair was bound in a single thick braid. Much longer and she’d be able to sit on it.

“Nira,” he said, and she turned, her pale eyes lighting with delight.

She ran into his arms and he lifted her off her feet. Her small hands grabbed onto his shoulders and she buried her face against his neck. When she laughed, the sound melted his heart.

“Papa, you came.”

Chapter Nine

Kal coaxed her from her work by insisting that she looked pale and that he wouldn’t have it said of House Azi that they overworked their servants. She’d rolled her eyes, and they’d continued the playful argument as he dressed her in a ridiculously extravagant robe trimmed in gold and what she very much suspected were real rubies.

“I don’t need a break,” Ily insisted as Kal pulled her into the courtyard and through the servant’s gate. She didn’t fight very hard. Every day brought her closer to leaving the villa for good...to leaving Kal. But she
did
argue with him—first, because she enjoyed it and second, because his reasoning was outrageous. Really, the exercise might be good for her, but she had
not
grown plump after only three weeks of regular meals.

Grabbing her hand, he led her down the short flight of stairs and through a low arched tunnel into the street.

“You’re winded already. Hurry along now, I don’t wish to be recognized.”

“By whom?” The streets weren’t crowded. Most people were at home at this time of day, resting in what shade they could find or near the water. And if he’d truly wanted anonymity, he might have chosen a color for her other than red. Something plainer, that wasn’t embroidered at waist and cuff with a serpentine pattern reminiscent of his house seal. The veil that covered most of her face was so delicately fine it offered no concealment. He was no better off, wearing fitted breeches and a midnight blue tunic that appeared slick as water in the sun.

He shrugged, glancing down the street and then pulling her into an alley. Hand in hand, they scurried along the edge of the neighboring building. “Anyone might be watching—the emperor’s spies, rival houses, the guild.”

She must have stiffened because he glanced down at her and his expression softened. “They mean no harm. This is Lasura and the emperor’s in residence for a few more weeks until the summer heat drives him out. Everyone is here watching everyone else. It’s a casual interest only, to keep track of alliances and rivalries. No one likes to be surprised, not in business.”

She forced a smile and plucked at his sleeve. “And this is invisible to you?”

He looped a finger inside her veil and tugged it loose. Dropping a kiss to the tip of her nose, he turned her by the shoulders and gave her a gentle push through the open archway to where a young woman stood waiting in the shadows with her head bowed. Kal kicked the brightly painted door closed behind them. “They’ll look for a veiled woman in a scarlet robe and her hulking bodyguard dressed in satin.”

She raised one brow. “Hulking?”

His mouth pulled in a grimace, but his eyes crinkled in amusement. “You wound me, Ily.”

He eased the robe from her shoulders, revealing her comfortable and perfectly unremarkable linen tunic. It was one he’d provided for her, the least showy despite the silk piping at collar and wrist. He tossed both her robe and his own tunic to the waiting servant and pulled a pair of sturdy sandals from the leather bag he’d slung over his shoulder. “I planned to go to the fountains. Do you mind the walk?”

His uncertainty never failed to charm her. She took the sandals and kicked off the more formal slippers she wore. “I don’t mind walking.”

She was rewarded with his wide smile and her heart stuttered in response. He spoke a brief word to the woman, who was obviously accustomed to this routine. He dropped a small pouch into her waiting hand and Ily politely turned her head as they finished their transaction.

They were standing in the receiving room of a modest but pleasant home. The light descending from the high arched windows was mellow and golden. The rug beneath her feet was master work and very old. She’d just bent to examine it more closely when Kal took her arm and led her deeper into the house. “We’ll leave by the servant’s door, if you don’t mind.”

She shook her head. “I’m not one of your aristos, Kal. This is a far finer home than any I’ve lived in.”

“Not true. You lived at the University for years. They say that it’s finer than the palace even.”

“You’ve never been there?”

“I’ve never had that honor, no.”

That surprised her. It was true that Lanel rarely extended invitations to the University, using them as gifts or lures, but Kal was a powerful man. He held the door for her after checking to be certain the narrow alley was clear. Pressing his hand to her back, he guided her to the left. Toward the fountains of Risa. It was one of her favorite spots in the entire city. The white cliffs, while not as high as those that formed the University, served as a pretty backdrop to the multitiered fountains. She liked the contrast between the white marble and the blue-green waters of the bay. There would be people there. Children splashing in the water. Vendors selling fruit and watered wine.

“If the University is truly such a wondrous place, why did you leave it?”

He asked the question just as they stepped from the shelter of a tall building and into the blinding light of the midday sun. It was the question that brought her up short, but she hoped he’d believe it was the sun. Shielding her eyes with her hand, she glanced at Kal’s earnest expression and then down the wide street leading to the sea. The city lay drowsing in the heat. The only movement was the light sparkling off the water in the distance. Sarians had come from the sea, all of them descending from merchants, pirates and fishermen. They said it was still in their blood, the source of their magic.

She started walking again and he fell into pace beside her. Patiently quiet, still waiting for an answer.

“Does it matter to you? I’m a master. I can’t use the guild mark to certify that, but no one will doubt my work.”

“I’m not questioning your abilities.” He took her hand and pulled her out of the path of a barefooted boy running down the lane on some errand. “I only want to understand.”

The corner of her mouth edged up in a bitter smile. “There are questions at court?”

“Hmm.”

“Let them talk. It will make the rug more valuable in the end. No one really minds a mystery.”

“I do.” He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment. “I had a falling out with the guildmaster about a year ago. It began as a personal dispute but ended badly. The emperor was forced to intervene and Lanel seems to believe my interest in you stems from a desire to see him spitted on a pike. I ask myself—why would the guildmaster believe I’d use you against him?”

“You want the guildmaster dead?” A curious little thrill raced through her followed by a vague feeling of guilt.

“I’d shed no tears over his death, but I wouldn’t try to hasten it either.”

Murder within the emperor’s peaceful Saria meant a very public and very painful execution, even for an aristo. She wouldn’t want that to happen to Kal even if it meant Lanel’s death too.

She forced a smile. “Are you certain you don’t ask yourself—how might I
,
Kalar Azi
,
use my new servant to wound the guildmaster?”

“I admit the thought did cross my mind.”

The day had lost some of its shine, but she owed Kal an explanation. Especially if her presence in his home placed him in danger. “Let’s just say that the guildmaster and I had our own falling out, but there was no emperor to intervene. I...convinced Lanel that it would be best if I left the guild.”

“No one leaves the guild.”

“I did. I had information the guildmaster didn’t wish to be known at the time. It might not be as valuable as it once was...I don’t know. It was enough then for him to let me go. I disappeared before he could change his mind.”

“He heard about your exhibition in the marketplace then,” Kal said. “He might think we’re conspiring against him.”

“He might simply want me to return to the University.” A shiver chased down her arms despite the heat of the day.
Damn.
She’d known it was a risk to expose herself but had hoped Lanel would let her be. She didn’t want to have to speak with him again to reassure him that she’d keep her silence. She didn’t want to see him ever again.

“So you blackmailed the guildmaster.” The foolish man was grinning at her. There’d been nothing daring about it. She’d been desperate, not brave. He needn’t look at her like that. “The rule-bound and virtuous Lanel Hasson. What could you possibly have on him?”

“I can’t tell you that.” She would like nothing better than to share this burden, but that simply wasn’t possible. “Let it be, Kal. Please.”

He stopped walking just before they reached the top of the wide stairs leading down to the fountains. Catching her elbow to turn her, he waited for her to meet his gaze. “I would protect you, Ily, even from the guildmaster. It simply might help me to understand why I’m fighting him this time around.”

He meant that—that he would try to protect her—she could see it in his eyes. Touched, she placed her palm to his cheek and stretched up onto her toes to kiss him.

“I left the guild because Lanel Hasson is a venomous spider at the center of a great web who wishes to control everything and everyone around him. That’s all you need to know and you don’t have to worry about me.”

Before he could argue the point, she started down the steps. The worn white stone was smooth beneath the thin soles of her sandals and very hot. A few weeks ago she wouldn’t have hesitated to cool her feet in the water, but it seemed undignified to do so with an aristo. She’d never seen anyone like Kal splashing in the waters. Of course, Kal had his own fountains to splash in if he chose to. Dozens of them.

Before they reached the bottom step, Kal caught her hand and held it as if they were sweethearts. She wondered if he thought of her that way. She didn’t. She couldn’t let herself begin to think like that. He threaded his fingers through hers and looked down at her. “Lanel is an ass. As for controlling? He
is
master of the most powerful organization in the empire.”

“You think I’m proud.” She’d heard that accusation before, but it hurt coming from Kal, more than she wanted to admit.

“Everyone belongs somewhere...or they should.” He touched the seal on his arm. “Family. House. Emperor. You think the life of an aristo is free of obligation?”

“It’s not the same.” She knew what it was like to be owned, to think first
What will my master say if I choose this or that?
To always consider how your choice would affect another before you thought of yourself. Lanel had done that to her. He’d raised her, shaped her to be his liasin, a position between servant and wife without even the rights of a concubine. It had choked her magic. In the end, it had gotten to the point where she couldn’t cast even the simplest of weaves.
That
was what had made her run.

Lost in her own thoughts, she wasn’t certain how long the silence stretched between them. They reached the first fountain and skirted it, walking through silver puddles of sun-warmed water. This one was a small fountain with a steep drop to the level below. No children played here today, just an elderly couple who smiled at them as they passed by. A fistful of flowers lay abandoned on the rim, little purple and white blooms beginning to wilt in the sun. Ily lifted the largest from the pile as they moved toward the shade cast by the cliffs.

They followed the gravel path leading to the lower levels and turned aside when they reached the first of the three large fountains that Risa was famous for. She could hear the sounds of children playing before they turned the corner. She smiled at the sight that greeted her. Young mothers sat on the rim of the fountain while their children played. Grandparents shared the shaded benches. Between the fountain and the children, there was enough water in the air that it seemed cool here even though the sun was shining.

There were no open benches and the rim of the great fountain was soaked with water, so they found a shaded spot to sit down beside a crumbling wall. Weeds sprouted from a crooked seam in the white plaster. It felt strange to sit again on the bare ground without a pillow to cushion her. How quickly she’d grown soft.

Kal lifted a tendril of loose hair from her cheek and pushed it behind her ear. “Tell me about the magic then. How does it work that you can close your eyes and color flies from your fingertips?”

“It doesn’t.”

“It appears to. The thread moves so quickly, it blurs. Dizzying to watch. Wondrous.”

She blushed and looked away from the open admiration in his eyes, past the fountain, toward the steps leading down to the sea. “Every creation is a piece of the artist. You draw from within yourself—the shape and color and pattern. From someplace deeper than thought.”

She’d always thought that had been her problem under Lanel’s tutelage. When you were living so completely to please someone else, there was no...you. The guildmaster had made her lose herself. It’s why she’d rejected him so completely and the guild. She’d tried to secure patronage from another source, but Lanel had blocked every attempt she made to leave. He’d barred her from the thread room without his approval. No thread meant no castings, meant no money to move from her quarters at the University. He’d blocked every path save the one that ended with her kneeling at his feet. She’d
had
to leave, deciding she’d rather starve than continue to live like that. And starve she had. For years.

She knew Lanel had expected her to come back to him begging for shelter, but she refused to be owned by anyone. Not ever again. Not even by someone like Kal.

He rolled onto his back and looked at the clouds. “You’re talking about the soul.” He glanced at her and his lips quirked. “Some people say that’s why the barbarians have no magic. That they’re soulless, the lot of them. Is that what you think?”

“You have no magic,” she said. “And you have a soul.”

He touched his hand to his chest. “Five weeks ago you told me I didn’t even have a heart. Now you’re granting me a soul? Ily, I believe that’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

She might grant him a soul, but she wouldn’t grant him her laughter. He’d think that their conversation was over and she didn’t want it to be. She liked to talk with him, even when—
especially
when—they disagreed. He had a very fluid way of thinking that challenged her but never demanded her submission.