Before she left the village, Alicia had managed to whisper to her, “Don’t fear the Mage. He’ll give you more than you’ll find here.” Through the frightening journey, as the morning wore on, she’d tried to turn her fears to hope she would discover what Alicia meant. The misery of being his kitchen drudge hadn’t occurred to her.
The Mage still paced, giving her an occasional glare.
Rebellion broke through the fear. “I’ll try to think of a way to move on, shall I? Find a place to go. Until I can, I’ll do what you ask.”
“No need to sound so resentful. The facts are exact.”
The sneer rubbed at her wounds.
“You cannot go back to the village. The castle would not touch such a one. You have no gift, and even if you did possess an elemental skill, the lady may well say you are too old to be trained.” He arched a dark eyebrow. “Though I am sure the garrison would not be too squeamish to accept your services. Hold your tongue, or I’ll send you to them.”
A shiver of horror ran over her, for she had no doubt what he meant. Agnes’s breathy, lewd descriptions still echoed in her mind. She shut the vile thoughts out when he spoke again.
“You do not have the talent to work with me. You are not one thing or the other.” Slowly, he appraised her. “No, maybe not even the garrison would make allowances for such a grubby wench.”
A blaze of anger surged to help her rise from her trembling knees. He was a brute. True, maybe right now she was dirty, but he didn’t have to say so. How would he have fared in the cage?
Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. “No, I won’t stay here, not with you. I’ll leave. I’ll do as well if I take my chances in the forest.” She turned to make her way out of the smoky, torch-lit room.
“No, girl, there is no need. I will not have your wolf-mauled corpse on my conscience.”
His tone of pained resignation stoked her determination. She reached for the door.
“I said stay!”
The forceful shout stunned her for an instant, but she spun back to face him.
Let him do his very worst.
People had yelled at her all her life. A woman now, even if she was cursed, she’d put up with it no more. “My name is Nin, not ‘girl.’ If I stay here, you won’t shout at me.”
His glance clashed with hers until, like the moon from behind a dark cloud, an amused smile broke. The expression spread across his handsome features. He had a wonderful bright smile. The glow of it began at one corner of his mouth before it spread to rise slowly up to his eyes. “I can see we will have many entertaining discussions. You will stay, Nin. You will work, do as I bid, and you will keep out of my way so I shall have no need to shout at you.”
“You won’t beat me either.” She wanted that rule laid down fast. The way some apprentices and servants got treated was worse than dogs, or so she’d heard.
His smile widened as he shook his head. The feather twirled while he chuckled. “No, Nin, I will not beat you, even if you deserve it. Remember, I am a Mage. I can find many more interesting ways to punish you than simply using a stick.”
Sheer terror soared at his words.
His pale brow wrinkled as his eyes widened in mockery of hers.
Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut? What could he do to her? His amused laughter brought a blaze of heat to her face.
He went to the round cupboard molded to the wall. The little door creaked as he took out a jug and two horn cups.
Her fears returned as he nudged a low, three-legged wooden stool toward her.
“Sit, Nin, we will drink to the rules.” He poured a red liquid into the cup in front of her. “You will be quiet and obedient, while in return, I will not beat you or turn you into…” His eyes narrowed. The smile returned with a spark in his glance. “A sparrow, I think. Yes, a noisy one.”
Accepting the cup he handed over, she sat. “Agreed,” she whispered. Lifting the cup to her lips, she watched him over the rim. The brew she sipped tasted sweet, made from elderberries, powerful, too. The glow of it burned her throat and set a fire in her empty stomach.
I’m hungry.
He took a swig from his cup. “Now, so we understand each other clearly, my name is Thabit. You may call me that, or you may call me Mage if you wish. This room will be your domain.” He swept a majestic hand into the air. “I will bring bedding for you to sleep here.” He motioned toward a small alcove cut into the wall.
She nodded and sipped again as she studied his face. His unlined smooth skin had a luminous appeal, like the heartwood of a bough. He was much younger than she first thought, though shadows of sleeplessness smudged under his eyes. His angular, sharp features, made her wonder who’d been so skilled as to carve them. Long, dark lashes enhanced his eyes. In here, his eyes shone like a cat’s in the gloom.
“I hope you’re listening?”
Startled to attention, she gave another quick nod. How had she let her mind wander to his face? He must think her a fool.
“I sleep in the room upstairs. After a night vigil, I often sleep through the day. My workshop is on the top floor. You will not go up to the top floor of the tower unless I say you may. You will not enter the workshop for any reason without me. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she answered. A new tremble lodged in her leg. She crossed the other over and squeezed to still the movement.
“Good. At the back of the house is a vegetable garden. You will prepare meals from what grows there. Meat will not be cooked in this house.”
She gawped.
“Yes, only vegetables, pulses, and herbs will go in the pot. I do not eat meat. Flesh smothers the mind and dulls the senses. If you wish to remain here, you, too, will neither cook nor eat it.”
She couldn’t care less what she ate if only he would feed her, but he offered naught. What other strange ways would he reveal? She clamped her mouth shut.
“The well is in the yard, and over the rise there is a stream where you may bathe.” He glanced at her gown. “See you do. There, you can also wash clothes.” This time, his slow gaze followed his words.
She glanced down at her soiled, mud-streaked skirt.
“In the yard is a bread oven,” he continued. “I’ve never fired it, but after you clean it, I am sure you can.”
Her irritation niggled, shaving scraps off her fear. Did he think she knew nothing?
“Do you wish to ask me anything?”
Oh, yes, so very many things. Instead, she shook her head, for she did not trust her tongue to be wise in the asking.
“Very well, we’ve had a good beginning. I will work until dusk. When I come down, I shall expect a meal.” He got up from his seat, put the cup on the table, and swept through the doorway to the stairs.
The wine, warm in her stomach, sparked her hunger as she looked at her new home. “Gods, help me, where do I start?”
Chapter 2
Once Nin no longer heard his tread on the stairs, she opened the heavy black drapes. A shaft of light hit the table to reveal a collection of pot marks. Smears of grease shone with rainbow colors. Beyond, sat the hearth, not cleaned in months, maybe years, judging by the pile of cinders, soot, and ash. Cobwebs hung high in the corners where the spiders didn’t feel the heat of his low fire. The flagstone floor resembled the one in the village barn. Uncertain she’d made a good bargain to stay here, she stood and moved