Recognizing an order disguised as casual comment, I took one of the buckets from her. "He's a little worse for the wear this morning," I remarked cheerfully as she and I hiked over to the horses. "But he'll get over it by tomorrow, and then he can be on his way."
Del set the bucket down in front of her gelding. "Why don't we have him come with us?"
Startled, I nearly tripped over my bucket as I put it down in front of the stud. "What for?"
"He said he wanted to take lessons from you."
"Yes, but I never said I wanted to give them."
"But that's what you're going to do. Give lessons. Remember?" She patted the gelding's neck. "The plan is for you to resurrect Alimat and take on students. At least, that's what you told me. Has that changed?"
"No." Though I wasn't certain when it might come to be, since we were a bit busy trying to keep me alive.
"Then you've got your first student in Neesha." She grabbed the bucket, shoving the gelding's nose away, and lugged it over to Nayyib's horse.
"That sounds like a very tidy arrangement—from your point of view—but maybe I'm not ready to start lessons yet."
"Why not? Aren't we heading to what's left of Alimat? Couldn't he help us rebuild it?"
I glanced over my shoulder at Nayyib and saw him lying on his bedroll with an arm draped over his eyes once again. I lowered my voice. "What is it with you, Del? Why do you care so much about someone who's practically a stranger?"
Her face was set, though her tone was pitched as quiet as mine. "I told you, he helped me when I was ill. I would have died without his help."
"Does this mean we have to adopt him?"
She cut her eyes in Nayyib's direction, then stepped close to me. Since Del is six feet tall, you tend to notice when she gets that close. "Why don't you just say what's on your mind, Tiger? That you'd rather he didn't ride with us because you don't want a good-looking man my own age spending time with me."
I ground it out between my teeth. "That's not it."
"Then what is it?"
"I like it the way things are. You and me. Just you and me. It has nothing to do with the fact he's a good-looking kid with eyes that can likely get any woman to spread her legs for him with the first puppy-dog glance and who just happens to be your own age."
A wry male tone intruded. "Really?"
Del and I both turned as one. Nayyib stood three strides away, legs spread, arms folded against his chest. "I wasn't asleep—or unconscious—and I'm not deaf. I don't particularly care to eavesdrop, either, but when one hears his name mentioned, one tends to pay attention." His brows arched up as he met my gaze. "Do you think I really can get any woman to spread her legs for me?" He touched a finger to skin below one eye. "With these?"
I said, "Not the way they look today."
His rueful grin was swift, exposing white teeth; at least he could laugh at himself.
"Maybe by tonight," Del said thoughtfully.
Outraged, I glared at her.
"Really?" Nayyib repeated, sounding more than a little hopeful.
"Really," Del confirmed.
"This is ridiculous," I announced. "We're standing here talking about how this kid can get women to sleep with him when there are any number of people who want to kill me?"
Del seized the opening. "Which is another good reason for him to come along."
"Why, bascha? He's not a sword-dancer. I don't think he'd be much of a challenge." I glanced at Nayyib. "Hey, I'm telling it the way I see it."
He nodded. "Fair enough. But if you taught me, maybe I could be good enough to provide something of a challenge. I do have some skill, you see . . . though actually you never have, have you? Seen my sword skill." He shrugged. "So I believe you're making assumptions with no evidence to shore them up."
"Stay out of this," I suggested.
"Why? It's about me."
"Because you've already proven you're unreliable," I retorted.
"How has he proven that?" Del demanded.
"Hoolies, bascha, he got drunk while he was a prisoner!"
Del's disdain was manifest. "That's your evidence?"
"I got drunk," Nayyib said, "because Umir felt I might know some things about you that he wanted to know. Something to do with a book. But I didn't know anything about any book, nor do I know anything about you—except what everyone in the South knows, and Umir already knows all that, too."
"What does that have to do with you getting drunk?" I asked, failing to see any point.
"Because after it became evident that beating me wouldn't gain him his information, he tried another tactic. He had a supposedly sympathetic servant slip me a jug of—something. I don't know what it was, but it was certainly more powerful than anything I've tasted before. And while I lack your vast experience with liquor—you are old enough to be my father, after all, and thus you have the advantage of significant additional years—I have made the aquaintance of it in various forms." He shrugged. "It made me very, very drunk."
Del was furious. "Umir had you beaten?"
I was beginning to be intrigued in spite of myself. "Did you tell him anything?"
"No, because you arrived before he could ask me anything. But it would have gained him nothing anyway. I don t know anything more about you, or whatever this book is."
"The Book of Udre-Natha," I said, "is a grimoire. It contains all manner of Things Magicaclass="underline" spells, incantations, conjurations, recipes for summoning demons, notes made by men who studied it for years, and so on and so forth. Pretty much anything you want to know about magic is in that book."
The kid had the grace to look stunned. "And you gave it to him?"
"Gave it back to him," I clarified, "and yes, because it was the only way to get you free."
Nayyib looked somewhat diminished, losing the cocky stance as he stared at me in surprise. "You gave it to him for me?"
"I did."
But confidence reasserted itself. "Why didn't you just ride in there and take me ? Without the book. I mean, you are you. Umir couldn't have stopped you."
"He might have."
"Stopped the Sandtiger?"
"I'm eminently stoppable," I told him. "Permanently, even. What, did you think I was immortal?"
His chin rose and assumed a stubborn tilt. "You've never yet been killed."
"Well, no, since I wouldn't be standing here involved in this ludicrous conversation if I had been. But 'not yet' doesn't mean 'never.' "
Del said, "Which is another reason Neesha should come with us. So 'not yet' doesn't become 'now.' "
I stared at her. "You really want him to come along."
"I've said that several times, I believe. Yes."
"Fine." I stalked past the kid. "Get your sword."
He turned. "What?"
"Get your sword." I bent and picked up my own. "Let's see just what kind of skill you have that I haven't seen. And then maybe my assumptions will be proven by evidence."
Nayyib was aghast. "Now?"
I smiled. "Why not?"
His mouth opened, then closed. Opened again. "Because . . . now is not a good time."
"You don't always get to choose your times, Nayyib-Neesha. Let that be your first lesson." I indicated his bedroll and pouches. "Your sword."
"I can't," he said faintly.
"I thought you wanted me to teach you."
His color was fading. "I do."
"Well then?"
"Because now . . . because now—" He swallowed heavily, looking pained. "—I'm going to be sick." He turned, staggered two steps, bent over—and promptly suited action to words.