Thomas stood at the table with his back to her. Just as she was about to ask if there wasn’t maybe another batch of tea cakes baking in the oven, she noticed what it was the servant was doing.
Preparing a tray of tea things. Like the tray of breakfast things. For whom? Olive asked herself. Is there a sick servant in the attic? No, in a household this small, we would have heard about it. Could Thomas have a fugitive relative? the halfling wondered. In Olive’s family, fugitive relatives were not uncommon.
Why don’t we have a look-see? she decided, creeping behind Giogi’s gentleman’s gentleman as he left the kitchen and headed upstairs.
Giogi stood in the back garden, watching Mother Lleddew drive off in his rented carriage back to the House of the Lady. She seemed very nice. She’d been a good friend of his parents. Still, it was a little shocking to learn she was a were-bear.
Not as shocking as the story about his father, though.
He pulled the spur from his boot and turned it over in his hands a few times. Aunt Dorath must be tearing her hair out right now, afraid that I’ll use this. Or tearing Frefford’s hair out for letting Cat take it to me.
He held the spur out in front of him. Wyvern, he thought, I want to be a wyvern.
He felt no different. He was not shape-shifting.
It’s not working. The spur must know I don’t really want to be a wyvern. Wyverns are beasts. I don’t want to be a beast.
Listen to me, I’m no different than Aunt Dorath. I’ll never be an adventurer like Cole. It’s just not in me.
He headed toward the kitchen door to go inside, but the thought of going back into the stuffy house was unbearable. The fear of having to face Cat and Mistress Ruskettle and explain that he didn’t want to be a wyvern was worse.
I need to groom Daisyeye, he thought.
Whenever he felt really depressed or uncertain, grooming a horse usually helped bring him out of it. He strode to the carriage house and slipped inside.
There was enough light coming through the window to see without lighting the lantern. It took his eyes a moment to adjust, though, from the bright outdoor sunshine. He checked on his buggy first. The rear axle was propped up on a sawhorse so that the broken wheel could be taken out for repairs. The painting that had so startled Birdie was leaning against Daisyeye’s stall. Giogi had asked Thomas to leave it there until he decided whether he wanted to restore and reuse the frame.
The nobleman was reaching for the bucket of Daisyeye’s brushes when he heard a muffled sob from somewhere overhead.
Hello? he thought. Who’s crying in my loft?
As Giogi climbed the ladder, something rustled in the straw. As he reached the top he could see a figure moving into the shadows. He caught a glimpse of yellow silk and gleaming copper and knew who it was immediately. “Cat?” he whispered.
There was a sniff, but the figure did not move out of the shadows. Giogi swung himself into the loft and moved toward the mage. “What’s wrong?” he whispered.
“Nothing,” Cat answered, keeping her face turned away.
Giogi sat beside her in the hay and turned her gently by the shoulders so that she faced him. Her face was wet and her eyes were red and puffy. “Please, tell me what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” the mage insisted. “Nothing worth crying over. I was just being stupid. Wanting stupid things. I’ve stopped now. See. I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what got into me. I never cry.”
“Yes, you do. You cried last night, when you were frightened,” Giogi reminded her.
“Oh.” Cat looked down at her hands. “I’d forgotten that. You must think I’m stupid to cry.”
“No, I don’t. What a thing to say. Everyone cries. It’s like that poem: Soldiers have their fears, something, something, something, ladies are entitled to their tears.”
Cat burst into fresh sobs. Giogi pulled her to his chest and hugged her gently, whispering, “There, there, my little kitty-cat.” Cat grew calmer.
“What’s made you so sad?” Giogi asked.
“You’re so nice,” Cat said, sniffling.
“I could try to be meaner if it would make you happy,” Giogi teased.
“No, you couldn’t,” Cat argued, looking up at him. “You wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“Maybe not,” Giogi agreed. “Would it make you cry more if I did something else nice?” he asked.
“Like what?” Cat asked.
Giogi lowered his lips over the mage’s and kissed her slowly. Since she didn’t start crying again, he kissed her again, longer.
“There. That didn’t depress you too badly, now did it?”
“No,” the mage admitted. “It wasn’t stupid, either.”
“Not if you liked it,” Giogi said.
“And I can cry if I like, can’t I?”
“Of course, but I’d rather see you smile.” He began kissing her again, but she turned away and started to cry. “Cat, what is wrong? You have to tell me, darling.”
Through her sobs Cat stammered, “Flattery told me crying was stupid, and kissing was stupid, and, and, other things I wanted were stupid. For the longest time, I believed everything he said, but he was lying, wasn’t he?”
“Flattery is a vile monster,” Giogi said hotly, “and the sooner you forget about him, the better. You won’t ever have to see him again.”
“You don’t understand. He’s my master—”
“Rubbish. You don’t need a master. I can protect you.”
Cat pulled away. “No, Giogi, you can’t. You have to let me finish explaining. I have to tell you. He’s my master, and I was afraid not to do everything he told me.” Cat hesitated, obviously afraid to tell him what she thought he should know.
A cold fear seized Giogi. He swallowed. “Cat, what did you do?” he whispered.
“I married him.”
Giogi sat, stunned. Immense relief mingled with acute heartache. He couldn’t choose which to focus on first.
“I didn’t know about all the people he killed,” Cat said.
Giogi took a deep breath and asked, “Did you love him?”
“No.”
Giogi breathed out.
“It doesn’t matter, though. I consented.”
“Of course it matters, and a vow made under duress is not valid.”
“He didn’t threaten me, Giogi. I was just afraid of him.”
“What were you afraid of?”
Cat shrugged. “That he would sell me back as a slave to the Zhentil Keep army or turn me into one of his zombies or feed me to his ghouls.”
“Oh, is that all?” Giogi asked, astonished at the horror in which she must have lived under the wizard’s rule.
“Yes. I didn’t want to die. I’m not afraid of being hit, but I am afraid to die.”
“He hit you?” the nobleman shouted, rising to his feet.
Cat cringed, startled by Giogi’s anger.
Giogi slammed his fist into an overhead beam. The wizard’s villainy had no bounds. Someone had to stop him.
“I’m sorry,” Cat whispered.
Giogi looked down at the cowering woman and felt ashamed of having frightened her. He took her hands in his own and brought her to her feet. “Don’t be a little ass,” he whispered. He kissed her on her forehead. “Come back to the house with me,” he said.
Cat let Giogi lead her down the ladder and out of the carriage house. She walked alongside him through the garden, and he held the front door open for her as she entered the house. The couple hurried to the parlor, where it was warm. It was some time before they thought of Olive and wondered where she was.
This is such a nice house for sneaking around in, Olive thought as she crept down the upstairs hallway after Thomas. Ought to make it a law—every wealthy house should have thick carpeting. She wished Jade were with her so she could share that joke with her.