Threads of Desire (Spellcraft) (7 page)

“Everyone has a soul,” she said, tracing a triangle in the sand with her fingertip, even angled, even sided. The mark of the guild. The same mark that was tattooed on her wrist as proof of her position. “At least that’s what they teach on the temple steps. That Mehan, who made the sun and stars, breathed that same life into every person. A man without a soul is a corpse. At its core, craft is the ability to join mind, spirit and body and to manifest that connection outside of oneself.”

His eyes glinted. “So if I follow, it would be more accurate to say that you, the guild, and all of the gifted are more like to be soulless since you’re always pouring yourself out into the world.”

She arched her brows. “Perhaps we have more soul to begin with and it overflows us like water from a fountain.”

He laughed and caught her wrist, tugging her closer until she sprawled across his chest. He nudged her chin up and pressed his mouth to her throat. “I’d believe that of you. Not of Lanel.”

No wonder he’d chosen this secluded little spot against the wall, lovers often withdrew to these bowers for private conversation. But they were still within sight of the fountain, and the greenery and flowers could only be so discreet. She should push him away. He licked the shiver from her skin and she was suddenly anxious to return home. His home, that tranquil, private, magical house that was the first place she’d felt safe...ever.

She glanced back at the fountain—the children playing, the young couple sitting on the bench nearest them with their heads touching as they spoke in low voices, the sea bright and shimmering beyond it all. It was a perfect day to laze in the sun and attempt to convince Kal to swim in the water when it grew dark. It would be a very long time until sunset.

“Kal?”

As if he could read her mind, he was already rising to his feet. He offered his hand to help her up and she took it, smiling.

Chapter Ten

The center medallion was complete. Three feet wide and ringed with golden thread, it depicted the emperor’s seal—a lion, fangs bared, claws extended. Around the beast’s neck was the Xara’s medallion, symbol of Luthalia, the small southern nation ruled by his wife, the empress.

In the morning, Ily would begin the pattern that formed the bulk of the rug. She could see it when she closed her eyes, at night before she slept. It would have to be worked in a single sitting. The thread was prepared and laid out on spindles surrounding a large cushion at the center of the room. She planned to sleep alone tonight and wake early. She’d told Kal about her plan this morning and so was surprised when she turned toward the door to find him standing there.

He was dressed in finery. The tunic he wore was a deep twilight blue with a soft sheen. Finely tailored leggings and polished boots. It took her breath away. So easy to forget he was an aristo when naked he was only another man.

“I’ll be going out tonight, I wanted to let you know.”

“That wasn’t necessary.”

The skin tightened around his eyes. “Rael will stay here. If there’s anything that you require, ask him and it’s yours.”

“You’re very generous,” she murmured, crossing the room. Kal blocked the door.

He cradled her jaw and searched her face for a moment. “The emperor hired a troop to perform for him months ago, brought them in from Turan. I have to go.”

She didn’t say anything. What was there to say? He had to go and she wouldn’t be welcome there, had no desire to go. None at all.

“It’s a new moon tonight,” he said, stroking his thumb along her cheekbone. His jaw was clean-shaven and set in a determined line, but the look in his eyes was soft.

She knew what day it was—the festival of blind god—when the creator turned his face away. “An excuse for licentiousness.” Her brows arched. “As if you needed one.”

She started to draw away, but he held her. “I will do nothing to dishonor you, Ily. My vow to you.”

“I didn’t...” She shook her head.

“My presence is required, nothing else.”

He kissed her, a dry brush of his closed lips against hers. Possibly the most chaste kiss they’d ever shared and still her body responded, sparking to life like he held a burning match to her. She breathed him in...bergamot and sandalwood. Warm and familiar. She wanted to wrap her arms around his waist but she held them stiff to her side.

He withdrew far too soon. “Tomorrow, then.”

She nodded and he was gone, striding down the long hall with the loose confidence she admired and despised. Envy welled up inside her, along with a red thread of shame. Despite his promise, she was jealous of every woman who would look upon him tonight.

She didn’t need him. This empty feeling...she’d find someone else to fill it after she was gone. Two weeks, maybe three. Her work would be done and she’d be able to leave.

And when she did, she’d walk away as easily as he did now.

* * *

Down the corridor, a curving set of stairs that let directly into the courtyard. Kal snagged an orange as he passed one of several fruit trees planted at regular intervals along the high plaster walls and paused beside the fountain. Haran was notoriously stingy in the food he provided to his guests, at least those not in the inner circle. Despite Ily’s elevated view of his position, Kal was a small fish in a very large pond. He was content with that. His wealth afforded him many advantages, but he wasn’t greedy for more. He did enough to ensure he stayed in the good graces of his emperor and did his best to stay out of the political maneuvering of the other families. He had few enemies, people in general tended to like him. At court, he was called a natural peacekeeper. He was known to be charming.

The sharp, sweet scent of the fruit reminded him of Ily, spread on his table. The oranges shaking from their bowl and rolling to the floor. The twilight reminded him of Ily because he usually waited for the first star to appear before seeking her out, knowing that she’d be finishing her work then. The crystalline sound of the fountain, Ily straddling him in their bath.

He could still turn around.

But if he stayed, it would only be to wander the halls. She’d asked to have a guest room tonight and he’d given her his finest. He’d neglected business, canceled meetings, relied heavily on Rael and Cassia to deal with the merchants and tradesmen. The aristos he had to deal with himself. Would that it were any other way.

There was no reason to stay here tonight. Except that she’d withdrawn from him again, only a half-step back but she’d retreated. The look in her eyes when he’d said good-bye...

It could be mended. He let the peel fall to the ground as he walked toward the stables. Silas, his gray ghost of a horse, was saddled and waiting for him. Rael handed him the reins.

“If she tries to leave?”

Kal flinched. “What makes you ask?”

Rael’s expression was unreadable as ever. “It’s always been a possibility, no?”

“Remind her of our contract and bar the gates. Don’t let her leave.”

But Rael did not lift his hand from Silas’s neck. “Before she finishes the rug, you should make your request and let her make her decision. If the rug is not complete, it might hold her long enough for her to consider it.”

“My plan is coming along just fine, you saw that yourself.”

A flush darkened Rael’s skin. “I saw more than you think, Saer. You’ve become ensnared in your own web.”

“She’ll stay. She’ll agree.” Rael didn’t comment, only stepped aside so that Kal could pass into the cobbled street. Rael was a good man, stalwart and loyal, but he had a very low tolerance for risk. Pointless to argue with him over this. “Take care of her.”

Rael bowed and Kal started for the castle, a small catar of guards accompanying him for the show of it. He skirted his own property, glancing up when he passed Ily’s window. Dim light shone through the curtains and high windows. Tomorrow she planned to work until evening. The next day, he would take her to Nira and then he’d know whether he’d misjudged her.

* * *

The emperor was a young man, not yet twenty, but he showed great promise. Kal might have looked to him for help if he’d been just a few years older or his position within the court more secure. None of the families would attempt to remove the emperor, of course. The position carried with it a great deal of tedious responsibility and very little by way of compensation. And there were far easier ways to handle a weak ruler. Wealth ruled Saria—the merchants who controlled the trade routes and the guild who produced the finest crafts available to the known world.

The most powerful men and women were gathered at the palace tonight for the festival of the blind god. Ily was right about that, few aristos would miss a chance to shake off the fetters of morality. The gathered crowd was particularly enthusiastic and the masters Haran had engaged for the occasion had outdone themselves.

The passageway leading into the garden was lined with great stone pillars supporting an arched roof inset with glass panels. The glass mimicked the night sky, velvety black and set with unnaturally bright stars to light the path. Kal paused beside his family’s crest, wondering why his alone was white. As soon as his fingertips touched the stone, color leached from the point of contact like dye dropped in water. He smiled as the great dragon turned the vibrant red that was the favored color of house Azi.

Clever boy. An emperor who could flatter, entertain and reinforce the importance of obedience might just manage to hold on to the reins. Kal glanced up and down the corridor. He was last to arrive. That, too, would surely be noted.

Funny, he reflected as he stepped into the midnight gardens and inhaled the fragrance of night-blooming Jemras mixed with incense from the torches. He’d always particularly enjoyed this celebration. Tonight, he found himself calculating how long he was obliged to stay before he could return home.

Haran sat in state on a dais constructed for the occasion. Jilar, his advisor, stood at his right hand as always, watching the proceedings with an air of amused condescension. Jilar’s restless gaze paused on Kal and he inclined his head in what was—for the lion—a gesture of tremendous respect.

More than one person turned their heads to see who was so honored, the guildmaster among them. Lanel Hasson was still a robust man despite his years. His black hair was spiced with gray but when he rose and began to make his way toward Kal, he moved with the grace and purpose of a man in his prime. Kal accepted a glass of wine from a passing servant and waited for the guildmaster to approach.

Ily feared this man and the guild because of him. The guild should protect her. Kal thought that a large part of her disdain for the aristos—for anyone in power—arose from her time spent at the University. Over the course of these last few weeks, Ily had let him in to her mind and body in the most intimate of ways, but still she kept the reason for her fear from him. Because of the man walking toward him now.

Kal had always disliked and mistrusted the guildmaster. The rage that swept over him now took him by surprise. Deliberately, he forced his fingers to ease their grip on the fragile goblet he brought to his lips. He forced his muscles to remain fluid and raised his brows in mild curiosity as Lanel stopped before him.

Lanel’s mouth tightened in what passed for a smile. “I understand you’ve hired my student.”

“Former student, I believe. And, yes, I hired her. For some reason, I’ve found it tremendously difficult to engage the services of a master craftsman no matter how much money I offer them. This one I found living on the streets.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

Kal glanced aside and noted that Haran was watching their exchange closely along with any number of other people. The last time Kal had spoken with Lanel, he’d been raving. He’d hurled desperate threats to destroy the guild if they refused to help his daughter. Their feud had become so public and so virulent that the emperor had been forced to step in. The emperor—a child then—had upheld the ancient law of the guild and Nira had died with the summer fevers. For Lanel to approach him now...

Kal tipped his head. “And what reason is that exactly? I always thought that the guild took care of their own.”

“People of great power can oftentimes become...eccentric, and Ily was very talented.”

“Is. Ily
is
talented. Extremely.”

The innuendo was deliberate, but Lanel merely inclined his head. “We lost track of her after she left the University. Ily was the one who turned her back on her family, but we stand ever ready to welcome her back into the fold. If you would pass that along to her, I would be most grateful. You may also tell her that I’m willing to receive her at any time should she wish to speak with me.”

Kal’s blood chilled and then began to pulse through his veins with a heavy beat. “I’ll tell her.”

“I want to know that she’s safe.”

“She’s far safer in my home than she was living on the streets. When she was starving in the gutter, where were you then?”

“Waiting for her to return to her senses, even as we are now, with our hands extended in fellowship and support. She belongs with me...with us, at the University. I only want the best for her.”

Kal leaned in close and felt fierce satisfaction when Lanel flinched. Jilar caught Kal’s eye and moved his hand in a subtle gesture indicating that the emperor wished to speak with him. A rebuke but it didn’t stop Kal from smiling at Lanel, letting the man see his hatred.

“If there’s any truth to that, guildmaster, then I suggest that you leave her alone.”

Chapter Eleven

Ily stretched and her back cracked. Her body was spent and her mind was a puddle of melted wax. She’d pushed herself too far and would pay for it in the morning. But she was finished for the day and nearly done with the rug. By late afternoon, she’d completed the central pattern, a subtle coiling weave that left the medallion prominent. Everything about the design was intended to direct the eye to the emperor’s crest. A beginner’s mistake to match the colors to the crest. She’d taken the deepest shade and gone one off that to offer some contrast but not enough to overwhelm the eye.

She could have stopped then, probably should have rested, but she’d been a coward. Not quite ready to leave the shelter of this workshop and face Kal again. Their partnership was soon coming to an end and it distressed her greatly. She would have to leave. But she would leave well compensated for her time and talent, able to build a life in another town. Possibly Cresa, rumored to be wild and untamed, well away from the iron grip of the guild.

So very far from Kal and his hard body and smooth tongue. She would miss him, and that realization chased her back into her work. When she was working, there wasn’t room in her mind to consider these disturbing truths. There wasn’t room for anything but the weave, the flow of magic through her body. Pure, good and clean. Dangerous too. It was possible to drift away into the peace of it, lose your concentration, relinquish control and let the magic drain you completely. She would stop herself before that happened. Of course, she would. She’d never been one to give up.

Kal was waiting for her when she opened the door. Leaning against the balcony and looking out over the twilit city. He turned and smiled as if he’d been waiting all day. As if it had been worth every second of the wait.

“How did it go today?”

“Well. Would you like to see?”

“I’d love to.” He followed her inside and made all of the appropriate noises of appreciation. She watched him, entranced by the sleek masculine beauty of his profile. She considered asking him about his night then pushed the thought aside.

“You went further than you’d planned.”

She was startled. He’d been listening to her as she rattled on about her plans. She’d thought his attentiveness had been for show. Now he placed two fingers at the edge of the rug, the last thick band before the border.

She shrugged when he looked to her for confirmation. “Sometimes, I get caught up in it.”

True but not the whole truth.

He frowned. “You must be exhausted.”

Yes. It had been close. At the end there, when her control had wavered and the magic called to her so sweetly. “I’ll be fine. Are you staying in tonight?”

“I’d hoped to spend the night with you. But if you—”

“I’d like that.”

She took his arm and allowed him to lead her into the hall, up the stairs and to his rooms. “You soak, I’ll speak to Rael about getting you some food. Knowing you, I imagine you skipped luncheon.” She didn’t deny it. “Is there anything you’d like?”

“Some wine. Bread. Don’t put Jani to any trouble.”

Kal’s cook was a magician, likely a true one but untrained and not quite powerful enough to get swooped up in the guild’s net. Jani’s bread could teach the guild lessons in artistry. Kal nodded and disappeared through the door. She almost grabbed his arm to tell him to forget about food, but he was gone and the bath was waiting. She let her clothes lay where they fell and sank into the steaming water. Another luxury she would miss.

He returned shortly after she stepped from the bath and proceeded to pamper her, plying her with wine, massaging her with scented oils until her muscles were limp and perfectly useless. Then he sprawled beside her on the bed and told her all of his adventures of the night before, which were shockingly tame. But he made even the tedious state dinner sound entertaining with his tales of polite political infighting and the ridiculous foibles of the aristos.

“Your world is very different from mine,” she told him.

“It’s the same world, Ily. Just one.”

It was an effort to curve her lips. Her eyes would not open, but the room was dark anyway. He’d long since snuffed the candles, only the glow from fire illuminated this sacred place.

“Clearly, you have never burrowed into a refuse heap for warmth.”

A fingertip slicked through the oil on her shoulder blade and goose bumps rose on her skin. He kissed the spot and settled beside her. “No. Can you take a break from your work tomorrow? There’s something I’d like to show you.”

Something about his tone roused her, but it couldn’t counteract the weight that was dragging her down. She thought about finishing the rug, completing the work and leaving.

“Yes,” she said. “A break would be good.”

* * *

She hadn’t known what to expect when Kal bid her dress after breakfast. Perhaps a trip to the market or a luncheon at the fountains of Risa. She hadn’t expected the dainty white mare, long-legged and graceful, that waited in the courtyard. She hadn’t expected the silk cloak Rael wrapped around her shoulders before he helped her to mount.

Kal looked imposing on the great gray beast he sat atop...fully aristo, no sign of the gentle lover who’d woken her at dawn, coaxing her to open for him, loving her with a determined glint in his eyes. Her breasts were still scraped from the stubble on his jaw, but this man was a stranger.

The slight nod he gave her was hardly encouraging. Rael handed her the reins. “You’re certain you can handle her?”

“I rode often at University, and she seems a biddable enough creature.”

Rael smiled fondly. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she? I picked her out myself.”

“You did well then.”

A shadow flickered in his eyes and he glanced over at Kal. “He wanted you to have the best.”

They were off, passing through the dragon gates and into the street, moving in a little bubble of peace created by Kal’s guards. He’d had Rael purchase this horse for her? It was worth more than what he was paying her for the rug. She should have demanded more. An ugly thought, reminding her of why she’d come to him in the first place, whispering that this fantasy world he created for them with his wealth was a lie. They were too different. It couldn’t last.

The crowd surrounding them was dirty and loud, jarring after the silence and beauty of Kal’s home.
This
was where she truly belonged.

The grand estates gave way to the respectable homes of merchants, lined all in a row, neatly as boxes on a shelf. After a time, the streets narrowed. The leaning slums of her old neighborhood rose to either side, blocking out the sun. Kal’s gaze was fixed ahead, his expression remote. He hadn’t told her where they were going. There’d been something off about him all day...tighter, harder. When he’d taken her this morning, there’d been an intensity to him that had terrified her as much as it aroused.

She was anxious now.

She could smell the ocean, brine and fish. The warehouses were nearby, the brothels and the wharfs.

“It’s a rough neighborhood, but no one asks questions here.”

“Curiosity is a good way to get yourself dead here. I’m familiar with this place.”

His elegant fingers twitched on the reins and his horse lifted its head, snorting in annoyance. “I didn’t want scrutiny, you’ll understand. The building itself, well, I’ve done my best to make it as comfortable as possible.”

A cold suspicion gripped her.

“We had to reinforce the structure first,” he continued. “It’s perfectly sound now and there are guards, of course. It’s safe here despite the area.”

She nodded, searching his face.

“Are you sending me to a brothel?”

His nostrils flared and the blood drained from his face. “No.” The word choked him and he spat it out. “Do you...you don’t really think that I would do such a thing?”

“I don’t know where you’re taking me.”

He gave a tight nod. “I thought it would be better if you saw with your own eyes what I’ve...it doesn’t matter. Here, see for yourself. This is my building.”

It was a warehouse. The façade was worn and dingy and much of the plaster was cracked but unlike its neighbors, this structure stood straight and true. Still, it was a warehouse in the underside of the business district on the poorest side of town. She dismounted when he did, and when he offered her his hand, she took it. He tucked it against his arm and led her up the wide gritty stairs.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured. “There’s nothing to fear here.”

“So you say.”

“Trust me, Ily.” He paused at the door and looked down at her, expression grave. “I am trusting you.”

He opened the door and ushered her inside, through an empty foyer and up a short set of stairs. These stairs weren’t the main ones. They were tucked to one side like a servant’s entrance. She’d half-expected Kal to leave her there at the base and take the other set. The guard took up a position beside the door and when she glanced back, he was watching her soberly.

“What is this place?”

“Part what it seems,” he said. “This is where my merchandise comes from, mostly rugs and trinkets. Some small jewelry.”

“The other part?”

His hand settled comfortingly on the small of her back. Her body trusted him even as her mind was screaming out a warning. “Come, let me show you.”

He pushed through another door and immediately as they stepped inside the large brightly lit room, someone called out his name. A female someone, tall and beautiful. Another aristo by her dress, but perhaps she was only of a wealthy merchant family. Ily sized her up in an instant. The welcoming smile she directed at Kal. The suspicion that narrowed her eyes when they fixed on Ily.

Ily turned away, stiffening as she took it all in. Children, dozens of them, bent over their work. She was...confused. Once she would have believed he was using the children to make money. A few weeks ago she’d believed him to be a proud and callous aristo with no thought for the people who served him. But she knew better now. The Kal she’d come to...care about wouldn’t steal orphan children from the streets and force them to work in his warehouse.

Kal tried to turn her around as the woman he called Cassia came to greet them. Ily couldn’t have moved if she wanted to. Her mind was racing as she tried to make sense of it.

“What is this place?”

He squeezed her shoulder. “It’s a school. The street children you think I hand over to Calef? We bring them here, give them a dry bed and regular meals, training.”

“Calef said—”

“Calef is paid well to keep his mouth shut and not ask questions. Whatever he’s told you is only speculation on his part.”

“Kal’s telling you the truth,” Cassia said, but Ily didn’t even glance at her.

It didn’t make sense. Why would he hide this? The aristos might think he was mad but she wouldn’t have thought their opinion would stop him from doing what he truly wanted to do. The worst that could happen was that he’d be swamped by other desperate people looking for help. But a man like Kal could set rules and afford to enforce them. “I don’t understand. Why hide it?”

“No one can know about this place, Ily.” There was a clear warning in his tone that knocked her off balance again. “My daughter is here. The guild believes she’s dead. If they find out she’s still alive, they’ll kill her.”

Ily had her own reasons for avoiding the guild, but they weren’t monsters. They were a powerful, prideful and rule-bound organization, but not evil. There was only one reason why they would even consider killing a child.

“Your daughter, is she...”
Oh, Kal.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “She’s blind.”

A flicker of pain crossed his face and she turned to face him, wanting to hug him to her chest and run her fingers through his hair. But she kept her hands to herself.

He nodded. “It’s why the University denied her entrance.”

“There’s a reason for that.” A good one.

“I know it, but I won’t stand aside and allow them to murder her.”

Cassia did touch him to offer comfort, a light pat on his shoulder. Ily saw it and wrestled for a moment with the rage that flared inside her. She would figure out who this woman was to him later. Right now, that was the least of her concerns. Or it should be.

“Some would count it a mercy.”

“Would you?”

No, but she didn’t answer him directly. She would know the full extent of his deception before she conceded anything.

“That’s why you watched me in the market,” she said, hoping for a denial but seeing the truth on his face. “That’s why the commission...everything.”

He’d needed a master weaver and, as far as she knew, she might very well be the only artist at her level that had broken off relations with the guild.

“Not everything, Ily. I hope you never believe that.”

What else was she supposed to think? She noticed that he hadn’t denied that her talent was the reason he’d pursued her. And why was she angry? She’d been the one to insist that this was only a business arrangement. She’d known it would end.

She looked around the room again to avoid his searching gaze. It wasn’t a bad place, certainly nicer than any she’d called home until she met Kal. The windows stretched nearly to the floor and looked out over the flat rooftop of the neighboring warehouse. Beyond that was the sea. He’d put in guild-strengthened glass—she could see where they were marked at the corners although he’d left them unadorned. Apprentice work but still costly. The children were gathered in groups around tables, sitting on cushions and speaking quietly with one another. Occasionally, a voice would rise in laughter or rebuke, but they were a remarkably well-behaved group. Of course, they knew the stakes. They knew what waited outside for them if they were tossed from this place. They looked clean and healthy and extremely curious about the arrival of their benefactor and the strange woman he’d brought to see them. But as nice as this place was, it was no palace.

“You keep your daughter here?”

“The guild knows about her. I took her to the University when the talent first manifested to see if there was anything they could do.”