Strange Attractors - Kim Falconer [47]
She did her best to keep her voice smooth and rich, avoiding the garbled drawl that would mark her as a street beggar. Rall had made her practise, from time to time. She’d said it would be useful though Shaea never understood how. Now she did.
‘May I keep you company, to help pass the time?’
She nodded again. It was easier than talking.
‘There seems to be trouble in Corsanon tonight,’ he said.
‘Indeed.’ She looked at him sideways. Why was he speaking the obvious? Of course there was trouble in Corsanon tonight. The whole place was going up in flames. ‘Big trouble.’ Shaea gave a small smile, hiding her chipped tooth behind her hand. When he smiled back, she realised he was really only a lad, not much older than herself, she guessed, and only a little taller. She had nothing to fear from him. Their conversation would lead nowhere, even if the excitement died down and the festivities resumed. Nothing was expected of her tonight. She knew how it worked. Rall’d told her often enough.
Young men who came to the temple were only initiated by High Priestesses. He would no doubt assume she was an apprentice herself—training in the arts of tantra and ritual magic under the guidance of a mentor. Apprentices and initiates were not encouraged to experiment with each other, not until their training was more advanced. She was glad. She’d never fumbled about with anyone and the proximity of this young man disturbed her. She wouldn’t have known what to do.
Rall! Where are you? She pushed back her hood. ‘Your company is welcome, thank you.’
Rall had told her to act as if she were the High Priestess of Temple Corsanon and she was doing her best to oblige, though the High Priestess would not likely have time to converse with a youth in the moonlight, under the shade of the white oaks—even with such a beautiful young man as this. He had strange eyes, oval, mystical, entreating. She was lost in their darkness until she saw the glow of the fires mirrored there. She straightened.
‘My name is Teg,’ he said, his voice cutting through her thoughts. ‘What may I call you?’
‘Shaea,’ she said, not having given thought to an alternative. Surely she didn’t need one. It wasn’t like she would ever be recognised from her past. No one would think she was the filthy street urchin too revolting to hold the eye for more than an instant. No one had ever marked her passing. She frowned. ‘Why are you staring at me, Teg?’
‘Oh, was I? Forgive me. You’re so lovely. I had to drink it in.’
Shaea smiled brightly before blushing, her hand coming up again to her mouth. She had to get away from this person. He was upsetting her inside and out. Rall!
Shaea! It’s gone bad. Get out, girl! Run!
Shaea startled; she looked left and right before she realised it was Rall’s voice in her head that had spoken. When her eyes returned to Teg, she could see that he had heard it too. How was that possible?
‘Your mentor?’ he asked, reaching out his hand to steady her.
Shaea pulled away, hiked up her skirts and fled.
Heat wafted into the portal. It was like standing in front of a bakery oven, warming Grayson’s face, melting icicles from hem and cuffs. He took off his coat and strapped it to his pack. The view looked peaceful—no sign or scent of battle. ‘Where in Gaela is this?’ The sunny sky and green foliage made him smile and he stepped out of the portal and into the world.
The land sloped towards a valley, undeveloped save for a large building overgrown with ropey vines. It stood at the edge of a wide green field, flat as a lake. The sun was hot and the air smelled like warm honey. It reminded him of the hills surrounding the Gulf of Tasisia only there was no sea breeze. Whip birds fluttered in the low branches, cutting the air with their whistle-snap-crack calls. Brightly coloured lorikeets chattered and shrieked, taking flight when he turned towards them. All this luxuriance of nature meant it was