“And you don’t think they’re the same thing?”
I stopped walking. “What do you mean?”
“Kiyo is her friend, formerly her lover, and now the father of her child. He stands firmly with her against Storm King’s invasion. Yet, where would he stand if it came to a choice between you or her? What if Maiwenn decided you were too great a threat? What would he do? What would he do if you accidentally got pregnant?”
A chill ran through me at his words. I abruptly turned away and barely recognized my own voice when I spoke.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
He held up his hands in a pacifying gesture, face calm and affable. “I honestly intended no harm. Pick another topic. We’ll discuss anything you like.”
But I didn’t really feel like talking anymore, so the rest of the walk proceeded in silence. When we finally entered the park, the sun was well into its descent. We still had plenty of light and set out to pick a good place to work. We ended up following one of the less traveled trails and then deviated from it into a semi-treed area. We had nothing even close to dense forest coverage, but rock outcroppings, some scraggly pines, and distance from the path promised relative privacy.
The routine proved to be the same. Dorian had me sit on the ground, leaning against a rock. He had another stash of those silk cords and again wrapped them around me. The rock didn’t make a suitable attachment, so he simply let my hands rest in my lap and bound them together at the wrist. Naturally, he did his usual artistic weave on them, intricately wrapping red and blue cords together.
When he moved on to wrapping the cords around my chest and arms, his eyes flicked to mine and then back to his handiwork. “You aren’t really going to stay mad at me for the rest of the day, are you?”
“I’m not mad.”
He laughed. “Of course you are. You’re also a terrible liar. Lean forward, please.” I did, letting him tie the knots behind me.
“I just don’t like you playing games, that’s all. I don’t trust them.”
“And pray, what games am I playing?”
“I don’t even know half the time. Gentry games, I guess. You speak the truth, but it always has an ulterior motive behind it.”
He leaned me gently back against the rock and crouched on his knees to look me in the face. “Ah, but I do speak the truth.”
“I just can’t tell what you want sometimes, Dorian. What your plans are. You’re hard to read.”
That delighted smile of his spread over his face. “I’m hard to read? This from the woman who alternately hates and fucks Otherworldly denizens? The same woman who claims not to trust me even while I tie her up, putting her completely at my mercy?”
I wiggled in my bonds. “Well, I trust you with this.”
“Are you sure?”
He pressed a hard kiss against my lips. It startled me, but I couldn’t do anything about it. This man, this gentry-the one who could be either helping me or using me-had me trapped. I couldn’t do anything except let him keep kissing me. The realization triggered a response in me that was quite startling, considering my issues with control and helplessness. It made me feel vulnerable…and excited.
I turned my head away as much as I could, attempting to break off the kiss. “Stop that.”
He leaned back on his heels. “Just making a point.”
“No, you weren’t. You were just trying to kiss me.”
“Well, yes, you’ve got me there. But the fact remains: Tied up or free, you can trust me. I do nothing that I don’t firmly believe is in the interest of your well-being. The same holds true for casual comments about your love life. Now then.” He stood up. “Shall we commence this lesson?”
“No blindfold?” I asked, still a little shaken.
“Not needed. You know where the water is. Or you will in just a moment.”
He produced the canteen I’d brought along and took off its lid. Searching the area, he found a large boulder, reaching almost to his shoulders. He set the open canteen on top of it and then selected a spot for himself near some scrubby bushes where he had a clear vantage of me and the canteen.
“You feel the water?”
“Yes.”
“Make sure of it. If you accidentally reach one of the trees and end up calling its water, you’ll kill the poor thing.”
I extended my senses, considering what he said. After a few moments, I felt certain I had the water sources all differentiated. “No, I’ve got it.”
“All right, then. Call it to you.”
“Am I supposed to make the canteen rise or something?”
“No. You have no connection to it. But you do connect with the water. You feel it. You touch it with your mind. Now coax it to come to you, to come out of its container. You’ve already done it with storm systems. The trick now is doing it on a small, specific level. Forget about your body-it’s useless to you now. This is all in your mind.”
“That’s all the instruction I get, coach?”
“Afraid so.”
He stretched out, rolling onto his side to get comfortable. For someone who took such care with his clothes, he seemed nonchalant about getting them dirty. I supposed laundry was a small concern when you had a full staff to take care of it.
Sighing, I turned back to the canteen. What I attempted seemed ludicrous-but, then, so had feeling the water in the first place. So, I followed what he said as best I could. My grip on the water was so tight, I might as well have held it in my hand already. But no matter how hard my concentration focused, I couldn’t make the water move. It reminded me of the wind. I could feel it but not control it. Well, actually, if my training progressed, I might actually be able to control it some day. But the analogy stood, nonetheless.
Time dragged. Extensively. I tried and tried to order the water around, but it refused to obey.
More time passed. It crawled.
I finally decided it was a good thing the cords covered my watch because I’d be pissed off if I discovered how much time had elapsed. Hours had slipped by; I felt certain of it. The light had grown dimmer and dimmer. Looking over at Dorian, I swore he was asleep.
“Hey,” I said. No response. “Hey!”
He opened one eye.
“I’m not getting anywhere with this. We should call it a night.”
He sat up. “Giving up already?”
“Already? It’s been like two hours. Probably three.”
“Miracles don’t happen overnight. These things take time.”
“How much time? I’m starting to wonder if you made this magic rule just to procrastinate on getting Jasmine.”
“Well. You can believe that if it makes it easier for you. The truth-if you trust me enough to hear it-is that this is for your own protection. In a perfect world, we would go in and extract the girl quietly. In the real world, we will likely fight Aeson’s guards and Aeson himself. I would prefer we both walk out of this alive. You didn’t fare so well last time.”
“This is going to take forever. This training.”
I knew I was being whiny and petulant, but my back hurt, and mosquitoes had come out. At least in identifying the water source, I’d been able to take guesses. Here I could do nothing more than just wait and stare. If nothing happened, nothing happened.
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I’m just tired, that’s all. Didn’t mean to bitch you out.”
He seemed untroubled by my reaction, just like always. Indeed, I could see his face regarding me kindly in the twilight. “No problem at all. Let’s go, then.”
He walked over to the canteen and recapped it. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back against the rock to wait for him to release me. As I did, I felt something cool and wet, like mist, spread out behind my back and neck. To my new water senses, it didn’t feel…right. Moments later, before I could ponder the difference, the mist coalesced into slimy skin.
“Dori-”
My scream was cut off by cold, clawed hands. One covered my mouth, and the other gripped my throat. Dorian had spun around before my cry, making me think he’d sensed something before I had. He leaped toward me, but four wet, human forms materialized in the air before him, blocking his way. Nixies. Water spirits.