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Naamah's Curse - Jacqueline Carey [104]

By Root 1795 0
with mine.

“How… how are you controlling it?” His voice sounded small.

“I’m not,” I said. “I asked him if he’s willing to carry us, and he is.” I patted the horse’s sturdy neck. “So hold on, because we’re on our way whether you’re ready or not.”

The horse clopped steadily out of the stable, his abandoned stable-mate giving a low whicker. I wished we could have taken both of them, but it would have been too much effort to maintain a bond with both of them and keep my hold on the twilight. As it was, I was spreading myself thin.

On the street, I asked the cart-horse to pick up his pace. Once again, he pricked his ears in willing agreement and began walking at a good clip.

Behind me, Aleksei slid and jounced, nearly losing the bundle, grabbing for it and almost falling off in the process.

“Pass it to me.” I reached backward. “I’ll hold it, and you can put your arms around my waist.”

“I don’t…” He sounded miserable. “It’s just that his back is so very broad.”

“I know.” I struggled for patience. “Aleksei, give me the bedamned bundle and put your arms around my waist.”

Tentatively, he did.

I settled the bundle of chains and supplies on the cart-horse’s withers, holding it in place with one hand and knotting the other in his mane, then asked him again for a swifter pace. He answered by breaking into a brisk trot.

Aleksei exhaled sharply, his arms tightening around my waist. Now I felt the entire length of his body pressed against me, his thighs firm against mine. Despite everything, it felt very good.

“You might as well enjoy it,” I said to him. “I am.”

“Moirin!”

“Hmm?”

“This is serious business we’re about,” he protested. “Please don’t try to scandalize me in the midst of it.”

“I’m sorry.” I let go the cart-horse’s mane and touched Aleksei’s knee lightly. “I cannot begin to imagine what it’s costing you to do this. I’m very, very grateful, and I don’t mean to bait you. In times of mortal danger, people often make jests. We’d lose our wits if we didn’t.”

“Oh.” He relaxed a little. “So… you were jesting?”

Now he sounded disappointed. “No,” I said gently. “Only teasing. It feels very good to have your arms around me, Aleksei.”

“Oh.”

We rode in silence for a time while he contemplated that. The outskirts of Riva came into view and fell away behind us. The cart-horse continued at a steady trot. I glanced at the sky overhead, trying to determine if the moon was bright enough to see by if I released the twilight. Gauging it was, I let it go.

The gentle twilight faded, the world turning darker.

Behind me, Aleksei stiffened. “What—?”

“I let the magic go for now,” I said. “Now that we’re out of town, we’re safe enough under cover of darkness. In daylight, we’ll need it more.” I yawned. “I have to conserve my strength.”

“So you can’t do just anything you wish.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Not at all.”

He was quiet for a while longer. I breathed the Breath of Trees Growing, reveling in the presence of pine-trees along the road, listening to them dream of the sun’s return. Gods, it felt good to be free! Never, ever would I take it for granted again.

I only wished I wasn’t headed in the opposite direction from Bao. It worried me that the spark of his diadh-anam felt so far away and dim.

I pushed the thought away. Later. Survive first, worry later.

“Moirin?” Aleksei’s voice was low by my ear.

“Aye?”

“I like it, too.” His arms tightened a bit. “And you smell good.”

“It’s the odor of sanctity,” I said, referencing one of the signs by which saints were known.

“Moirin!”

I laughed.

“That was a jest, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, sweet boy.” I patted his knee. “It was a jest.”

There was a hint of a smile in his voice. “So says my heretic saint.”

THIRTY-SEVEN

We rode through the night and into the day, alternating between trotting and walking. For a mercy, we were following the curve of the vast lake and were able to pause from time to time to water the cart-horse and ourselves.

Willing soul though he was, I felt our unlikely mount’s strength begin to flag by midday, his steps beginning to plod. He was unaccustomed to

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