Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [114]
"Thank you," I repeated.
Indeed. His goat's eyes were oddly compassionate. Now go back to your companions.
He made a sudden violent gesture.
I found myself thrust out of the twilight, stumbling over my own feet. The lamps flared with golden light. The dizziness came crashing back in full force, my knees turning to water. Raphael caught me and steadied me. In the center of the six-pointed star, the boy was an ordinary boy in a white tunic again, except for the fact that he was etching flaming letters on the air. He lowered his hand and said something unintelligible in his sweet, fluting voice. I squinted at his wavering figure.
"What did he say?" Denis de Toluard demanded.
"That the doorway's closing and—"
The world went black.
* * *
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Conversation swirled around me as I surfaced to awareness. "—then what's the use of that highly trained memory?" someone grumbled.
"I'm a poet, not a linguist!" Lianne said in sharp frustration. "Who knew he would write the spell in Habiru?"
Another voice, soothing. "We'll have pen and paper next time to capture it."
"If there is a next time." A tart voice. "Will the witch live?"
"Shut up, Claire." There was the sound of skin rasping against skin, palm against palm. One of Raphael's hands rested gently on my brow, the other over my heart. That blessed sunlit warmth sank into my skin and suffused my body. "Moirin? Can you hear me?"
I managed a tiny nod.
"Elua and Eisheth be praised!" he breathed. "I knew it. I knew you could do it!"
With an effort, I opened my eyes. I was lying on a couch in Denis de Toluard's parlor, Raphael kneeling beside it. His face was hovering inches above mine, filled with a mixture of concern and relief.
"Was it worth it?" I asked faintly.
A cacophony of squabbling broke out.
"Yes." Raphael pressed his lips to my brow. "It is a far, far greater beginning than any we've known." His strong arms slid beneath my body. "And I am putting you to bed. Denis, have you given us my usual chamber?" I have.
I let Raphael cradle me in his arms, glad of his strength. My head lolled against his shoulder as he carried me up the stairs. In the guest-chamber, he laid me on the bed and undressed me. His storm-grey eyes gleamed.
"Moirin…"
I closed mine. "Now?"
"I love you."
It wasn't true. I knew it wasn't true. But I was very tired, very young, and very far from home. And I didn't know what the Maghuin Dhonn Herself wanted of me, only that Her diadh-anam beat so strongly in Raphael's presence. So I gave myself to him, let him take me. As he breathed hard and labored above and inside me, charged with unwonted urgency, I saw flashes beneath my eyelids.
Jehanne.
The spirit Valac, his yellow goat's eyes glinting.
Bao.
It was the last that startled me into coming. Raphael groaned, his chin grinding into the hollow between my throat and shoulder. And that was the last thing I remembered before I slid back into the embracing darkness.
I woke to midday sun. Raphael was dozing in a stuffed chair facing . the bed. He startled awake when I pushed myself upright against the pillows. His eyes were bleary and there were shadows under them.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Tired." I tried to swallow and found my mouth was horribly dry. "Thirsty." He came over to pour me a cup of water, and I drank gratefully, putting it down at last with a sigh. "You didn't sleep?"
He shook his head. "I went back downstairs. We were up all night discussing the incident. And I didn't want to disturb you."
"Oh." I rested my head against the pillows.
"Moirin…" Raphael sat on the edge of the bed, not quite meeting my eyes. "What I did, pressuring you… I'm sorry for it."
"Why did you, then?" I asked.
"I don't know." He sounded miserable. "It's like a fever comes over me and I can't help myself. I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you."
I rubbed my eyes. "You didn't hurt me. It's just…" I didn't know what I wanted to say. I pulled my knees up beneath the bedsheets and wrapped my arms around them. "Raphael, he spoke to me."
He looked blank. "Who did?"
I shivered.