“It’s not like you needed proof,” Cammon said, and was a little annoyed when both women burst out laughing. “What?”
“Never mind,” Kirra said, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “And how are you? Why are you at the palace tonight? Merely to tell Senneth I was coming and ruin my surprise?”
“No, indeed, he gave us barely a second’s warning,” Senneth said. “I think he thought that because he knew you were on the way, we all did. Cammon is living at the palace now.”
“Really? In training to become a Rider?” Kirra said in a mocking voice.
“Much more specialized than that,” Senneth said. “Mystic’s work.”
Kirra’s eyes widened, but before she could ask another question, Donnal came back carrying a tray of food. “Wild Mother kiss you,” Kirra said fervently. “I have to eat before I say another word.”
Tayse stayed by the fire, but Senneth, Donnal, and Cammon joined her at the small table in the corner of the room. Dinner in the royal kitchen had been a long time ago, so Cammon helped himself to a bit of meat and a thick slice of bread.
“Where were you?” Senneth asked. “Danalustrous?”
Kirra nodded and talked around a mouthful of food. “Helping to plan my sister’s wedding. Scarcely two months away now. Impossible to believe.”
“You weren’t in Danalustrous the whole time,” Cammon said.
She glanced at him and tried not to laugh. “No, you’re right, of course. By all the sweet gods, Cammon, are you going to track my slightest detour?”
He shrugged. “Well, not on purpose. It’s just that I always know where you are.” He flicked a look around the room. “All of you. It’s not like I’m trying. You’re just there.”
Donnal was laughing silently, but Kirra looked a little unnerved. “But what if I want to run away? Disappear?”
Senneth put a hand to her heart and tried to look soulful. “Why would you ever want to run away from Cammon?”
“But if I did?”
“Leave Gillengaria,” Donnal said. “Am I right?”
Cammon nodded. “I think so. Although I could still feel Justin when he was in the Lirrens.”
“The Lirrenlands are part of Gillengaria,” Kirra objected. “Well, sort of. So that doesn’t really count.”
“Let’s commission a boat and sail for Sovenfeld,” Senneth said. “We’ll see how far we have to go before Cammon loses sight of us completely.”
He smiled. “I won’t lose sight of you at all,” he said. “If you sail away, I’m coming with you.”
“So tell us, then,” Kirra invited. “Where was I when I wasn’t in Danalustrous?”
He waved a hand, indicating a generally southern direction. “Somewhere else. Down near Fortunalt, I think. Donnal was with you.”
She nodded, trying not to look impressed. “We were at Carrebos for a few days.”
Senneth licked her fingers. She had just had another small sliver of pie. “Never heard of it.”
“I think it’s a place you need to explore,” Kirra said. At Senneth’s inquiring look, she went on. “It’s a coastal town that’s a little north of Fortunalt. Not very big, but it’s been settled mostly by mystics. They’ve developed this whole community there. It’s like a haven. Some of them are readers, so they’re posted as guards to make sure soldiers and Coralinda’s men don’t come calling in the night. Some of them can cast fire, like you-some have powers I don’t even know how to describe.”
Senneth’s eyebrows were still raised. “Oh, yes, indeed,” she said softly. “I would very much like to go meet a town full of mystics.”
“Carrebos,” Cammon repeated, pleased. “Is that what it’s called?” They were all staring at him with varying degrees of wrath. “What?”
“You knew about this place?” Senneth demanded.
He spread his hands. “Well, I could tell there was this concentration of magic somewhere over in that direction-I couldn’t tell exactly what it was.”
“Why didn’t you ever mention it? You know I’ve been looking for ways to recruit mystics to the king’s army.”
“I didn’t know you didn’t know about it! You never said so.”
“Well, I could hardly say I didn’t know about-oh, forget it,” Senneth snapped, and then they were all laughing again. “Sometimes, Cammon, you are far more irritation than you’re worth.”
Kirra laid a quick hand on his arm. She was still laughing. “Oh, no, he’s not,” she said. “Cammon is always worth any amount of trouble he causes. You just never know when he’s going to bother to justify his existence.”
THEY talked so late into the night that Kirra decided she shouldn’t go strolling up to the palace to demand a room. She stayed in Ghosenhall so often and she was such a favorite of the king that rooms were usually kept ready for her; still, common courtesy required that she give Milo a little notice.
“We’ll sleep here,” she said, glancing around. “Except I can see there’s no spare bed.”
Donnal slipped from his chair and melted into a furry black dog. Well. Cammon could tell that Donnal had changed shapes, he could tell what that shape was supposed to be, but the creature now nosing around beneath the table still held the unmistakable essence of Donnal. The pointed face was not quite Donnal’s face, and yet it was; the dark eyes were exactly Donnal’s eyes.
Kirra sighed. “Yes, I suppose we’ll sleep on the hearth like a couple of hounds. Easiest all around.”
“I’ll bring you an old blanket,” Senneth said, straight-faced. “Put out a bowl of water. Would you like a bone?”
Donnal barked and wagged his tail. Kirra sighed again. “Tomorrow I’m sleeping at the palace, as befits my station in life,” she said. “And I will never sleep on the ground or the floor again.”
Cammon yawned and climbed to his feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said. “When I’m done with the princess.” That evoked a storm of hoots and derision, and he felt himself flushing. “I meant-in the morning-we’re supposed to accompany her on an outing. I’ll see you when that’s finished.”
“Don’t neglect your duties just for us,” Kirra said.
He grinned and went out into the bitter cold air. He was shaking his head, but smiling at the same time. Kirra and Donnal back, Justin on the way. Cammon was almost completely happy.
CHAPTER 8
KIRRA spent the next day with Senneth-Cammon could feel their merriment all afternoon as they browsed the shops of Ghosenhall-but before nightfall she presented herself at the palace and claimed her usual room. Naturally, as a high-ranking serramarra, she was invited to join the formal dinner that night, and she sat next to Delt Helven and spent the entire meal charming him.
She also, Cammon could tell, spent the whole meal trying hard not to look at Romar Brendyn.
She had fallen in love with Romar Brendyn last summer as the regent joined them on their tour of the prominent Houses. He was married, of course; his wife, Belinda, even now sat a few chairs over from him, round with her first pregnancy. Kirra had used magic to make the regent forget that he had cared for her in return, but she had not had recourse to any such spells to heal her own heart. Donnal had always adored her, and she had finally allowed herself to love him back, serf’s son though he was; but there was still a great ache inside her when she was anywhere near Romar Brendyn. Cammon could feel it through the entire meal, her clenched core of sadness, alleviated not at all by her light flirtations with the Helven lord and the Brassenthwaite man who sat on her other side.
Romar Brendyn was deep in conversations of his own, but from time to time the sound of Kirra’s laugh could catch his attention so hard that his head would turn and he would pause to look at her a moment before completing whatever sentence he had been uttering. A mixed, inchoate mess of emotions seized the regent every time he glanced at the golden serramarra. Cammon could sort them out much more easily than the regent could himself. Basic male appreciation for a lovely woman-admiration for her quick intelligence-an inexplicable wistfulness-a sudden surge of confusion-and an abrupt realization that he had a wife, he loved his wife, his wife was carrying their child. Romar’s eyes invariably would go from Kirra’s face to Belinda’s, and he would smile, and some of his bewilderment would fade.