The Shadow Companion - Laura Anne Gilman [7]
“Nice breeze.”
She dropped the string, and the wind died. “Newt.”
“I was taking a walk. I saw you and decided to follow.” He circled around so that they were facing each other. He had gotten taller since they left Camelot. She used to be able to look him directly in the eye. Now she had to tilt her head up slightly. Upon examination, Ailis decided that he still needed to do something with his hair other than brush it with a piece of straw when he woke up.
As though of its own accord, her hand reached out and smoothed down his rumpled black hair, trying helplessly to get it to lay flat. His hair was rougher than Gerard’s. She had known Gerard many years; they had been children together, running through the halls of Camelot on the sort of errands they sent pages and girls on.
But Newt, for all that they had been on such adventures together, was still an unknown to her. He could be so stubborn, so dismissive of everything he didn’t approve of—like magic—and yet he was courageous, too, when he needed to be. He had even braved Morgain’s castle, despite hating magic the way he did, to rescue her.
She hadn’t actually needed rescuing, but that was beside the point.
Newt made her feel so uncertain, always wondering what he was thinking, what he was going to do. With Gerard, she knew. Newt was…different.
“You didn’t think maybe I wanted to be alone?”
“I think maybe you’re alone too much.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He gave a huge sigh. “I don’t know. But you were all alone in Morgain’s castle—yes, I know she was there, but she left you alone a lot—you said so. And now you’re here, and it’s not like you have anything to do, and I thought—”
“Do me a favor, all right? Don’t think. You’re not designed for it.” Her words were sharp, but his accusation had gotten to her. She was alone. She was useless. And she didn’t need a stable boy’s concern for her to make it even more obvious.
“Fine, then. I’ll go.”
“Yes. Do that.”
The moment he was gone, she wanted to call him back. She felt sorry for snapping at two friends in such close succession. Instead, she picked up the string, and started whispering the spell again.
“Magic. It makes you mad.” That was the only explanation Newt could conjure for the way Ailis was behaving. She had spent many days with Morgain, and with Merlin. It was driving her mad, the same way they said it had driven Nimue mad, which she must be, to play such games with Merlin and distract him from what he needed to be doing.
A sense of unease moved through Newt whenever magic came into play. It shifted under his skin, raising the hair on the back of his neck and the tops of his arms. Magic. He didn’t trust it; didn’t like it. Never had.
He felt sorry for Ailis, and would keep his promise to Merlin to watch her and make sure that the hooks Morgain had set into her mind and soul didn’t do any further damage.
But if she didn’t want him around, he wasn’t going to lurk in the grass like some lovelorn courtier trying to get a glimpse of his lady-love. As the sole stable boy brought along on the Quest, he had responsibilities beyond keeping one female out of trouble.
Newt liked the feeling of being responsible. In the stable at Camelot he was one of the youngest to care for the horses, having only recently been moved up from minding the dog kennel. And on their journeys, he had been mostly deadweight. Useful occasionally, but not in charge. Never in charge. It was always Gerard’s skills in battle or Ailis’s magic that saved the day. Knights needed him, even if it was only to ensure that their mounts were all healthy and well cared for, and the mules content enough to carry their burdens. It was simple work, and not as time-consuming as being back in the stables. He was learning a great deal by observing the actual conditions his charges