Strange Attractors - Kim Falconer [58]
‘Coffee or strong tea as well, please,’ Rosette added. ‘And cracked pepper. Oh, no meat in mine, if that’s possible.’
‘You don’t like pepper and nor do I,’ An’ Lawrence said when the barkeeper had gone. ‘It’s the only thing we have in common.’
‘It’s not the only thing.’ She smiled at the familiars. ‘But you’ll love pepper tonight. It’s an antidote to hemlock, didn’t you know? How you’re still standing is beyond me.’
She pulled out a chair and pushed him down. The lad came back with two bowls of meat scraps and steaming mugs. Apparently they didn’t want the temple cats to wait for their meal.
Generous of them, don’t you think, Maudi?
I suspect they’re worried you’ll eat their children.
Children? Why would I?
You wouldn’t, but they don’t know that.
‘Drink, Sword Master,’ she said, putting the coffee under his nose. ‘The stimulant will help too. I won’t be long.’
Rosette took a gulp from her mug and left him at the table with the familiars who were applying themselves to their meals. She felt a strange elation as she headed for the stage, adrenaline coursing through her veins, butterflies tickling her belly. The bards were on a break now and the one she wanted to speak to was right in front of her. He sat on a stool, ale in one hand, guitar in his lap. He was idly plucking a string with his thumb. His head came up as she approached.
‘Hello.’ He stood, put the instrument down and offered his hand.
Rosette took it and for a moment the world fell away. ‘Clay, is that really you?’
He laughed, a hearty sound like hands drumming warm wood. ‘This is me, indeed. I am Clay.’ He stepped closer. ‘But you? I’ll stab myself with darts if I’ve met you before and have forgotten. What are you called?’
‘Rosette. My name’s Rosette.’ She swallowed.
The sound of his voice was like a memory coming out of hiding, like the taste of green apples, soft grass under her feet, gardenias lining the path to the bathing pools, the warm scent of sunshine.
He looked at her, his bright blue eyes framed in red ringlets. He pulled his hair back and tied it, still looking. ‘I know you, don’t I?’
‘We know each other.’ Tears trickled down her cheeks.
‘But I can’t quite remember. Why is that?’
She took his hand and laced her fingers in his before letting it go. ‘Because it hasn’t happened yet.’
The rain drove down harder; water was overflowing the gutters and sheeting down the windows.
‘I don’t understand.’
She brushed her tears away. ‘Me neither.’
The crowd must have heard news of the fire as people were peering out the main door and gathering in small groups. Nothing could be seen through the rain, though the smell of wet wood and old smoke wafted in. Bells rang in the distance, a tiny sound.
Clay’s face lit up in a smile. ‘There are two of you,’ he said, whispering the words.
She laughed. ‘How’d you know I was born in the sign of the Twins?’
‘That’s not what I meant.’ He touched her belly without asking and she felt the baby move for the first time.
‘Did you feel that, Clay?’
‘I did.’ He smiled.
‘And when were you born? What sign?’
‘The Water-bearer. My moon’s in the sign of the Twins.’
Tears welled again. ‘What are you doing here, Clay?’
‘Just playing tunes, though it looks like that might be over for the night.’ He frowned, catching the other musicians’ attention. ‘The hat, James, mind the hat.’
‘You mind it, Clay. City’s on fire. I’m out of here.’ James took a handful of coins from the hat and stuffed them in his pocket.
‘Nothing’s on fire in this rain, James.’
‘I’ll be going to check on my own home at any rate. Looks like they’re doing the same. Pack it up.’
People were bundling on coats and grabbing their bags, all making a run for it into the deluge.
‘Come share a meal?’ Rosette said. ‘I’d like to talk more.’
‘Me too.’ He scooped up the hat and divided the contents with the other bards.
She brought him to the table.
‘My goddess of the woods,’ he said, drawing in his breath. ‘Temple cats?’
‘They are.’ She stroked the top of her familiar’s head. ‘This