What should have been an obvious thought finally occurred to him. “Why not come with me, then? You’ve never seen the Glittergeist. We can relax on our ship, make a real vacation out of it no matter haw long it takes us to get to Strelakat Mews.”
The tears dried with astonishing speed and she took a step backward, her sorrow changing abruptly to outrage.
“You want me to what! Leave here, now, to run off with you on some endless ocean voyage?” She made a sweeping gesture at the bedroom. “This tree isn’t half decorated yet. In two days the curtain maker will be here from Lynchbany, and then there are the carpets to be seen to and do you think that can be done in a day?”
“Well I....”
“Not a chance! Have you ever tried to order carpeting for a tree? Everything’s round and curved. There’s not a decent square corner in the place. If you think I’m going to spend the rest of my life walking on wood shavings like your precious senile old wizard you’ve got another thing coming, Jon-Tom!” She was circling the room now, rather like an eagle homing in on its chosen prey. Jon-Tom harbored no illusions as to which role he occupied in this little domestic play. She was alive with the irrepressible energy which had first attracted him to her. Trouble was, it was now directed at him and not some nameless enemy.
“I’ve got painters coming in a week. We’re going to have to dye some of this wood. I refuse to spend the rest of my life in a house where all the walls are the same color, even if it is an oak tree. And you want me to drop all that so I can run off and carouse with you? You’ve got your nerve, Jon-Tom!”
Was this the same Talea he’d first encountered so many months ago who’d come to him for help in loading one of her mugging victims into the back of a wagon? The same fiery haired, short-tempered little terror who was as quick with her sword as her tongue? His mini-Brunhilde had metamorphosed into a hausfrau.
“Cripes, Talea, you’ve become domesticated.”
She shook an angry finger at him. “Don’t you swear at me, Jon-Tom. You’re going to run off and leave all the decision making to me.” She had him backed against a wall now. “You’ll do no such thing. You’re going to stay here and help me with the decorating, help me choose colors and patterns and weaves and landscaping.”
“Talea, if I don’t get the duar repaired I can’t spellsing. If I can’t spellsing I can’t earn a living. And if I don’t earn a living you won’t have any money to pay painters and carpet makers and landscapers.”
Her finger froze in mid-wag, drifted to her lower lip as she considered this new bit of reasoning thoughtfully. “Yes.
That’s true. Though I could always go back to work to support us. I’m a little out of practice but . . .”
Now it was his turn to anger. “You’ll do no such thing. You’re a respectable woman now.”
“I thought I warned you to stop calling me names.”
“I’m not going to have you go running off knocking people in the head in dark alleys. How can you think of going back to thievery and robbery?”
“Easy. I did it for years. I’m a thieves’ guild member in good standing, I’ve kept up my dues, and if I get caught you can always come visit me in jail. At least that way you’ll be close to me.”
“No way.” He tried to say it with an air of finality. “You’re going to stay here and do all those things you were just talking about. You’re going to furnish and decorate this tree exactly the way you want.”
“I could just work weekends,” she argued in a small voice. “A good thief can make a lot of money on the weekends.”
“No, dammit!”
Her voice fell even further. “Just one teensy little mugging a week?”
He sighed in exasperation. “I don’t know quite how to explain this, Talea, but I’ll try it one more time. Where I come from that kind of business is frowned upon morally as well as legally. It just doesn’t sit well with me.”
“Nobody has any fun where you come from.” She crossed her arms and pouted.
“I admit ethics are a little more, well, liberal in this world, but that’s how I feel about it. Besides, I couldn’t just sit around and live off my wife’s earnings.”
“Why not?” She was genuinely surprised. “Most men I know would be glad to.”
“I’m not most men. About the best I could do would be to give up spellsinging and magic and try to make a normal living as a musician.”
“Not with your voice you couldn’t.” Seeing the look that came over his face she hastened to comfort him, her anger vanishing as rapidly as it had materialized. “I guess you’re right, you and that hard-shelled, hardheaded old fraud. You’ll have to go. I’ll stay here and keep tree until you return.”
He could see she was trying to bolster her own spirits more than she was trying to reassure him. “After all,” she continued, “it’s not like you’re going off to try and save the world this time. You’re just running a long errand. Like a vacation, right?”
“Right.” He smiled lovingly down at her. “You’re sure you won’t come? It’ll be an adventure.”
She grinned up at him. “After my encounter with that wolverine and his perambulator I’m kind of adventured out. I like little, safe adventures, Jon-Tom, not the awesome world-shaking ones you seem to go in for. I think I’ll just stay here and enjoy the feeling of being married until you come back. It’s still a new sensation for me. That’s enough of an adventure for me for now.” Suddenly she looked worried. “Or do you think I’m getting old? After all, I’ll be twenty-three in three months.”
He gave her a light kiss. “I don’t think you’ll ever get old, Talea. I think you’ll still be looking to crack skulls and pick pockets when you turn ninety.”
“That’s one reason why I love you so much, Jonny-Tom. You know how to say the sweetest things to a girl. Go on, get your duar repaired. Take your time and stay clear of trouble.”
“I’ll be back in no time, you’ll see. I’m just taking a long cruise, that’s all. What could happen?” He pulled her to him, lowering his lips toward hers as . . .
A loud crash sounded from overhead. She pulled away from him, her mood twitching from affectionate and conciliatory to angry once again.
“And while you’re at it, as long as you’re going/ar away, take that unspeakable vile water rat with you and see if you can’t lose him somewhere in the middle of the ocean!” A second thump followed the first, not quite as loud as its predecessor but still aggravating.
The notion of having an attic in a tree was a radical one. But, he’d argued with Clothahump, if one can have a cellar, why not an attic? The wizard had shrugged and complied. After all, it was a wedding present and one could expand dimensionally upwards as easily as down. It proved a convenient place to store unpacked wedding gifts, extra furniture, household supplies, and those items which one has no use for but which are obviously so useful they cannot be thrown away. Counted among the latter was a grotesque stone sculpture which had been a present from one of Clothahump’s friends, a whole collection of arms and armor which Talea cooed over and refused to part with despite Jon-Tom’s insistence that they were going to live a normal, peaceful life, and one five-foot-tall, bedraggled, foulmouthed, perpetually hungry otter.