“Good, I’m hungry.”
“Is that it then? Shall I get on?” She made to rise from the stool, and he caught her arm.
“Not quite. I’ll take a look at your hand.”
She sat back down, offering him her hand. He undid the bandage. “More marigold balm, I think.” He took up the jar and, ignoring her shiver, smeared on more salve.
Her palm rested in his as he rebound the bandage. He became conscious of her warmth, the way she watched his every movement, but most of all, at the way she bit her lip until it resembled a ripe fruit. One he would savor if he tasted it.
By the gods of the waters, this would not do at all. He finished binding the bandage. “You will find your palm near healed tomorrow. Get on with the meal.”
To break the bewitchment of those dark eyes, he left the room and strode outside by the well, then across to the grassy rise. She must learn self-control. He couldn’t live with her looking at him in such a way.
He swiped at a tall daisy head in the long grass. If he was to teach her, and there seemed little choice, it must be in a clearly defined relationship, no nonsense to it. He would never be able to lead her through the rigors ahead if she continued to blink her wide eyes at him.
He kicked a rock from the top of the bank into the stream. She was far too unlearned to find her way to the realms of magic without aid, though he had been much younger when he began. But, he knew from his childhood he was different. He had been eager for knowledge, tutored by the best, fired by study, willing to accept any challenge to find his way to the unseen worlds.
Did she have enough talent, or half the resilience to go so far?
He yanked the thong from his hair as he headed down the slope. Though he attempted to block it, he couldn’t ignore the sensation of her sorrow. She sent flashes of sadness to him. How could she be this powerful with no training at all?
Mind-linking remained a struggle for him, like scrying, one of his weaknesses in the range of magical skills. That her mind could be this forceful was a deep concern, and yet she was defenseless, her gift beyond her control. If she remained untutored, she would be open to many influences and great harm.
The revelation of such a powerful talent disturbed him almost as much as anything else about her. Pretty she might be, and sweetly fragrant now she’d bathed. The long curling waves of her hair would tempt wiser men than him, no doubt.
Perhaps, he should get her to cut it. No, stupid idea. She would never agree and if she did, he wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt.
What could he do with her? Gods of the water, why me?
He scanned the streambed for shells, picked up a handful, and rolled them in his palm as he thought through the problem. One path beckoned the solution, and she would never know. A glamour to change her appearance. With her charms disguised, he would be able to teach her, and those pert little attractions wouldn’t get in the way. He skimmed a stone down the stream.
Yes, it might work, so he wouldn’t be distracted.
Perhaps, when he took her to the castle, he might be able to persuade Lady Cassandra to take her. Even though it was late for Nin to join the other students, it might be a possibility. If she’d been found earlier, she would be in Cassandra’s care, learning from her skills. He closed his eyes. This was the best idea he’d had since yesterday afternoon. Cassandra would understand the problem. She could take Nin out of his life, at least until his maiden developed her skills, knowledge, and control.
When had she become his maiden? He couldn’t tell, but after today, he’d never see her as a grubby little wench again. He’d need the stepping skills of a sword dancer to avoid her snare. Tilting his head back, he looked up to the clear blue sky as he tried to work out what he truly wanted.
The spring birds soared and circled, and no answer came to his questions. It seemed he must improve his self-awareness. Scraping his hair back, he tied the leather loop back in place before making his way to the tower.
By the time he walked into the kitchen, she had set dishes out on the table, ready to serve the food. From the look of her, she’d found peace with her sorrow for now.
One eye still on her, he trickled the shells from the stream into the small jar where he kept his collection. When she turned to stir what was in the cauldron, the glamour cloaked her. She moved to the table with the pot.
He stepped back in surprise. Oh! Perhaps he’d been a little extreme, but he’d get over it. Now, her image could not tempt him.
“Dinner’s ready,” she said with a gap-toothed smile.
“Good. I’m hungry.” He settled opposite her and picked up his spoon.
Chapter 6
Thabit went down to the warm kitchen to wake her before the dawn. He gave her shoulder, hunched beneath the blanket, a nudge. “It’s time to wake.”
“No, go away, it’s too early.” She rolled in the blanket wrapping and turned over.
He shook her shoulder again.
Turning a tousled head toward him, she opened an eye and glared.
“Get up, Sparrow, or I will be angry indeed.” He put on a deep frown. Not a qualm disturbed him when he threatened. “Get dressed and get up, or I’ll drag you naked to the workshop.”
“All right, wait a minute.” She reached over, grabbed the blue tunic, and burrowed under the blanket. Her body shimmied beneath the cover. When she emerged, the tunic covered her. She kicked the blanket off with a melodramatic sigh.
The antics irritated. Yesterday, she had agreed she needed to learn. She would not get beyond the first hurdle if she continued like this. “Today, you come to my workshop. I will teach you how to keep your busy mind quiet. This way and quickly.” He moved to the stairs.
“What about breakfast?”
“When you have mastered the skill, you will eat. Go up to the workshop now, or you will look for worms in the garden to fill your beak.”
“Bloody bully.”
Her thought blasted like a loud yell through his mind. Saucy wench to speak to him so, even if it were in thought alone.
“One more word, Nin, just one.” He scowled to hide his surprise, for he had managed to answer thought with thought.
“I hate you eavesdropping.”
“Then come and learn to stop it.”
She huffed out a breath as she climbed the first stair, stomped up past the closed door to his bedchamber, and on up to the next winding flight. At the top, she waited quietly for him to open the door to his workshop.
The first shafts of dawn light flooded through the open roof panel. This device allowed him to see the stars and moonlight, both vital to his work. The opening in the roof remained unseen by others.
He ignored her little gasp when they entered the room, but waited while she stepped forward wide-eyed, staring over at the two semicircular tables covered with herbs, pots, leaves, and twigs.
“Yes, fascinating I know, Sparrow, look your fill. I do not want you distracted. You may look, but please, do not touch anything. I will prepare the incense.”
He kept one eye on her while he poured incense into a large, black metal tray. The costly powder smoldered to life under his glance. Wisps of the fragrant smoke twirled up, calming and sweet.
“Enough,” he said to still her craning neck, her endless examination of the racks of dried herbs hung on the curving rails on one side of the room. “Come, and sit here.” He indicated one of the cushions scattered on the square carpet a little way from the wall where a small,