Steelhands - Jaida Jones [19]
They ran for the hills, and this one would, too. I glanced out of the window and wondered, for a moment, what would serve for hills here in Thremedon. Only the spindly tops of buildings winding their way up the cobblestone street broke up the gray skyline. I couldn’t see much from this angle, but Toverre’d already discovered you could see the Basquiat if you opened the window and leaned out.
Though why anyone would open a window in this weather was beyond me.
From his perch, Toverre made a strangled sound and leapt suddenly in the direction of one of my half-unpacked bags. He looked like a cricket, all long legs and bent-up elbows.
Of course, both Gaeth and I looked after him immediately, to find him shoving my undergarments deep into the suitcase.
“I came at a bad time,” Gaeth said. “Didn’t I?”
“We were just unpacking,” I told him, grateful at least that he hadn’t blushed. Toverre’s cheeks were pink as he did up the snaps, my private items locked safely within. If only he’d shown a little less delicacy, my honor mightn’t have been compromised so quickly. “It’s not a bother, anyway.”
“You could have given us some warning, actually,” Toverre said pointedly.
Gaeth cleared his throat, shrugging lopsidedly. It was definitely love in Toverre’s eyes, and I didn’t quite blame him. Gaeth was clearly of good stock, and if he’d’ve been a horse, Da and I wouldn’t’ve argued for a second before buying him. Nice skin, good teeth, dark eyes. He was healthy, too, with strong coloring. If he made a pass at my skirts, I was going to clobber him.
“Just … wanted to make sure you settled in fine, like I said,” Gaeth said at last, probably because nobody else was talking. “Is that … soot on your face?”
I brought my hand up to my cheek, and some cinders came floating out of my hair as I did so. Toverre winced dramatically, in the middle of polishing one of the brass buckles on my biggest suitcase.
“There was a problem with the fireplace,” I explained, pointing to the plate on the windowsill. “Had a plate in it.”
“There was a boot in mine, actually,” Gaeth said.
Toverre made a little clucking noise. “I haven’t even checked mine yet,” he said mournfully. “Do you think … No, I can’t bear it. I’d never crawl up into such a dirty, dirty place.”
“Could always give it a once-over for you,” Gaeth offered. Little did he know what he was getting himself into, doing something like that. “I’ve got a meeting with a finances advisor before supper, but after that I’m free.”
“As long as you don’t touch anything,” Toverre said. “And I mean anything. Leave everything the way you’ve found it, and …” His eyes darted to me, looking for all the world like a drowning man, and I tried to send him some form of encouragement through sheer will alone. “… thank you,” he concluded at last, though he sounded like there was a stone he was trying to pass when he said it. At least the actual words came out, which was a step in the right direction for poor Toverre.
“I’ll help, too,” I offered. “But I’m going to touch everything; you know I can’t help myself.”
Gaeth laughed, relaxed and steady, and Toverre even managed to join in, despite looking incensed. And just like that, we’d made our first friend in the city.
It only figured that he wasn’t actual city folk.
TWO
TOVERRE
Our first day of classes began in the bitter cold, the air so sharp that by the time we’d made it to the classrooms a delicate snow had begun to fall, dusting the rooftops of Thremedon like sugar powder upon a fancy cake. The whole city looked like a piece of wedding confectionary—at least, it did to me, but Laure had put her boot in a little yellow puddle only a few steps past our dormitory building, so she refused to agree with me about how lovely it was.
I had to walk down ’Versity Stretch on her other side the rest of the way.
Being a school with no separate campus for its students meant that the ’Versity was crammed right up against the city itself, so that even while making their way to classes, students might observe the most fascinating