The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [83]
She says many things. Sometimes she never stops talking. It’s like a stream of information and I am just a stone in the way of her dancing mind.
‘I see,’ Rosette chuckled. ‘And in these streams of dancing thought, is there anything about where we’re going?’
Not really. We hunt together, talking all the time, but who knows what the journey will bring? She won’t speak of it.
‘Aren’t you the least bit curious about this trip?’
I’m more curious about her.
‘Well I want to know where we’re going.’
The meeting with the High Priestess should prove instructional.
‘Pardon?’
The meeting. We’ll learn more then.
‘What meeting?’
Didn’t you know? Drayco yawned. There’s an audience with La Makee at the end of the week.
‘And when was I going to be told about it, I wonder?’ Rosette turned her back to the railing and squatted down eye to eye with her familiar. She cupped his face in her hands. ‘What other secrets do you have that I should hear about?’
Drayco stared at her, unblinking. His rough pink tongue came out and licked her nose. Rosette rocked back, squeaking with laughter.
‘Just answer the question,’ she persevered, once her voice was under control.
I only know that you are to go with the Sword Master to the temple chamber of the High Priestess in a few days, and as the Moon wanes in the sign of Ceres we set off.
Rosette tousled the temple cat’s head. ‘That’s it?’
Drayco neither blinked nor answered.
‘All right then. Thank you.’
Time will tell.
‘Yes, my lovely. Time will tell.’
Now you will bathe? Drayco asked with a twitch of his whiskers.
‘Why are you so anxious for me to get to the pools, furry one?’
Someone might be waiting for you there.
‘Clay’s back?’
He might be.
‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’
Drayco lashed his tail for a moment then leapt down the steps. I hunt.
I bathe, she replied, tossing the rest of the laundry over the railing without bothering to wring it. She grabbed a clean robe, slipped on her sheepskin boots and headed for the pools at a run.
Clay didn’t hear Rosette. He was submerged, sitting on the bottom step, holding his breath. When he popped up with a gasp, she stood above him and opened her robe.
‘You look like you’ve been to war,’ he said, taking in her bruises.
‘So do you.’ She dropped her robe and descended the steps until the water was up to her breasts. ‘Where have you been and when did you last sleep?’
‘I’m not sure.’ He pushed his wet hair back from his face. ‘It’s been a long…year.’
‘Yeah. For me too.’
They kissed briefly and Clay smiled at her.
He sat behind her, scrubbing her shoulders and arms, leaning her towards him until she floated on her back. He washed her hair.
‘You’re very quiet,’ Rosette said with her eyes closed.
He roughed her scalp and rinsed her hair, untangling it with his fingers as he did so.
‘Clay? Are you there?’
He let her go and swam to the outcropping at the far end of the pool.
Rosette followed him. ‘What’s going on?’
Clay watched her approach, gliding through the water without making a ripple. He’d been determined not to feel anything different, not to show any of his concerns. Not to suspect. ‘I’m tired, is all.’
‘You don’t usually act this strange when you haven’t had enough sleep.’ She trod water in front of him. ‘What is it? Did you have your way with a local lass in Morzone? You know that doesn’t worry me.’
‘I didn’t…in Morzone, and it’s not that.’
Rosette sat next to him on the submerged ledge, her shoulders just above the waterline. ‘Come back to my place. I’ve fresh bread and spice tea. We can talk.’
Clay nodded. ‘Sounds nice.’
‘Nice?’
He wet her lips with his finger before kissing her, slow and deep. ‘Sounds grand.’
‘That’s better.’
He held her hand as they headed back to the cottage, wondering who she really was and thinking he may never know.
The chamber was vacant, the High Priestess nowhere in sight. La Makee’s dragon-bone chair sat empty, with only a dent in the deep green cushion suggesting recent occupancy. Rosette breathed in the air. It was filled with the scent of chrysanthemum, white peony and