She took off her cap and shook her long hair free. “I’m sorry to impose on you, Cameron, but I need a place to stay for a while. Elliot was called to Nodlon Castle; he should be back to pick me up within a week at the most.”
“You mean a place to hide,” Kern said.
“If you prefer.”
Kern puffed on his pipe and regarded her with the skepticism one might give a wild horse that seemed suddenly resigned to the bit. “And why should I get my feet muddy in your swamp again?”
“Because your hands are still dirty from the last time,” she fired back.
He remained motionless except for the smoke that swirled around his head. I politely kept my distance; as tired as I was, the last thing I needed was a contact high. After a long moment he replied, “Well, then, I guess I should be a more gracious host. Come in.”
Inside the little cottage a low fire smoldered in the hearth and something simmered in a pot hung below the mantel. It rekindled my gnawing hunger. Neat shelves sported dozens of little knickknacks, and obscure vellum books lined one wall. Two lutes and a hurdy-gurdy leaned against a chair. A closed door indicated a private bedroom or study.
I dropped Jenny’s bag near the door and gratefully slipped the scabbard from my back. I had to kick a woman’s discarded shift aside to prop the sword against the wall. Other articles of clothing, the residue of past meals, and general clutter covered most of the flat surfaces. Kern’s magic apparently didn’t extend to housekeeping.
Kern said, “Whoa, man. You seem to be injured.”
“Yeah.” The cast felt looser around my wrist as I held it up.
He leaned close and squinted at it. “One of the royal healers did this. You mentioned Nodlon Castle; is this Iris Gladstone’s work?”
I nodded.
“She’s a good healer.” With a wink he added, “Bit of a looker, too, or at least she used to be.”
“So how have you been, Cameron?” Jenny asked as she came inside.
He shrugged. “It’s a lot quieter here than at court.”
“I’ll bet.” She ran her fingers through her hair in an unsuccessful attempt to tame it. “Do you hear from court much?”
He shook his head. “Not a word. Marcus and I have nothing to say to each other.”
The door to the other room suddenly opened. I reached for my sword but checked myself when I saw the new arrival. Despite the manners drilled into me as a boy, I confess I stared.
It was a beautiful young girl with wavy golden hair and big blue eyes. But she was a giant, almost as tall as Marcus Drake. Yet she was built perfectly to scale, so that she took your breath away even as you worried she might step on you. She wore a too short towel tied under her arms and nothing else, which gave a clear view of many tattoos. She gasped when she saw us, tried to pull the towel in ways it wouldn’t go, and cried, “Whoops!”
“Hey, baby,” Kern said. “We’ve got some guests. Didn’t you hear the wagon?”
She looked out the window and giggled. “Gosh, there is a wagon out there, isn’t there? Wow…” Clearly Kern wasn’t the only smoker in the house.
“It’s okay,” Kern said. “Amelia, this is Mr. LaCrosse. And this is Jenny.”
The girl looked down at Jenny with the practiced eye of one used to evaluating rivals. “Jenny,” she repeated. “You look familiar.”
“She gets that a lot,” Kern said quickly. “She has a generic kind of face.”
“I’m an old friend of Cameron’s. I need somewhere to stay for a few days, and I knew he wouldn’t mind.”
“No, he’s a very kind man.” Amelia’s eyes flashed to Kern. “Cammy, may I speak with you for a moment?”
He sighed, followed her into the bedroom, and closed the door. Over the crackling fire, I heard their muffled, insistent voices. To Jenny I said, “That’s not his daughter, I take it.”
“No. Young enough to be, but no. He’s always liked his girls… impressionable.”
At last the door opened, and Amelia emerged in a robe cinched at her slender waist. Her voice was calm and reasonable now, and her smile gracious. “We just needed to discuss some things in private. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions before. You both can stay as long as needed. Anything we have is yours.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be leaving,” I said. “My job was just to get her here.”
“Well, you’re certainly welcome as long as you’d like.” Amelia turned to Jenny. “If you’d like to join me, we have a hot spring in one of the caves. I was on my way over there. It’s a great way to relax after a long trip, or”-Amelia glanced at Kern with a lascivious little smile-“a long night.”
To my surprise, Jenny nodded. “That would be very nice. Thank you.”
“Good. I’ll get you a towel, and we’ll leave the men to talk.” Amelia gave Cameron a quick kiss as she went back into the bedroom, and he patted her behind through the robe.
TWENTY-ONE
Kern closed the door after the two women left and gestured to a chair. “Had to explain that Jenny wasn’t an old girlfriend. Amelia’s a bit territorial. Sit down, man, stay for a spell.” He chuckled. “That’s a wizard joke. But seriously, you look like you could use some low time before you rush off.”
I started to demur, but the cushions looked too comfortable to resist. When I sat, I sank so deeply that I feared I’d fallen into a trap. But Kern plopped into his old chair and put his feet up on a battered ottoman.
He held the pipe in my direction. “Do you partake of the weed?”
“No, thanks. My head’s naturally fuzzy most of the time.”
He laughed. “Without the fuzz, I might jump off that big rock out there and land splat in front of the cave.” He picked up one of the lutes and noodled idly on it. “Memories can slip up on you if you’re not careful.”
“You seem happy now.”
“What, because of Amelia? Oh, she does her part, that’s for certain. Would you believe she was considered a hideous freak in her home village? Just because she was tall. The boys made fun of her and wouldn’t be seen with her in public, although plenty of them snuck off with her in the dark. I found her crying by a lake, about to slit her wrists with her father’s sword.” He puffed some more. “She responds to kindness like a mistreated dog. And I don’t mean that the way it sounds. Once I convinced her my affection was genuine, she became the most loyal partner you can imagine. I won’t do anything to jeopardize that.”
He took another long drag from his pipe. “And she introduced me to giggleweed. Cheaper than ale, and I can grow my own stock. No fermenting needed, just a dry place to hang the leaves.”
“Good for you both, then.”
His eyes grew more unfocused. “But as bright and shiny as she is, she’s no match for the real darkness. I’ve got a lifetime of it, and if my head clears too much, it all comes back.”
It occurred to me that, given my own darkness, I might be looking at myself in thirty years. Before I could follow that thought too far, Kern said, “So how did you get mixed up with Dark Jenny?”
“Why do you call her that?”
“Because she’s afraid of the light.”
I told him the story, again leaving out the personal bits with Iris. At the last moment, I also left out that the queen was a moon priestess. I had no reason to keep it a secret, but I’d learned not to ignore those sudden cosmic hints. Kern listened with half-lidded eyes and gradually stopped playing, so that when I finished, I was afraid he’d fallen asleep. But then he said, with surprising venom for one so apparently mellow, “Megan.” He struck the strings so that they punctuated it with a sharp jangle.
I jumped and said, “I beg your pardon?”
“Megan Drake. She’s behind this. She’s pulling Ted Medraft’s strings. Elliot knows it, he just doesn’t like to gossip.”
“The king’s sister? I thought she was banished.”
Kern smiled. “The strings are attached to her apron, and they stretch a long way. She’s Medraft’s mother.”