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Cold Steel

Page 179


She said, “Not here. It would be unwise. My brethren are accustomed to rat behavior, but some of these are young and not yet fully in control of their impulses. Rather—I might add in the capacity of your solicitor—like you, Magister.”

His eyes flared. He jerked his hand out of her grip. The watching trolls stiffened, and even Chartji gave an aggressive bob of the head. Rory trotted out into the sun, unbuttoning his jacket, lips curled back.

“Kehinde, don’t go out there,” said Brennan, but she did, walking out into the sun with Brennan following right behind her to face Vai.

“Here is my answer, all of you ranged against me!” For once his undoubted beauty could not smooth away the distasteful contours of his conceit. “You have chosen your place then, Catherine! And I mine!”

He strode off toward the archway that led from the trolls’ courtyard to the street beyond.

Goaded by a stab of pain both hot and desperate, I shouted after him. “Now we see what manner of man you have decided to become! Just like the ones who tormented you!”

He staggered to a halt in the shadow of the arched passage, catching himself with a fist on the wall. For a long, drawn-out silence no one moved, not him, not us, not the trolls.

Then, as if shaking awake from slumber, Andevai Diarisso Haranwy walked out to the street, out of my sight.

37

My heart plummeted out of my body. I groped for and leaned on Bee.

“Come sit down.” Bee supported me back to the table. “You’re shaking.”

I was too numb for tears. Bee’s arm did not comfort me.

Kehinde sat on my other side. She spoke in a low voice. “Cat, you need not honor a contract sealed without your consent. The same was done to me when I was but fifteen.”

Brennan sat opposite, mouth twisted all awry. Chartji whistled softly. Rory still stood out in the courtyard, looking toward the archway.

The cold mage reappeared carrying the laced-up basket with the skull, as well as a leather bag. He crossed the courtyard as the watching trolls went back to their conversations. The light drenching his figure turned to shade as he came in under the portico. He set basket and bag on the table, then backed away to stand with arms crossed, staring into the distance. Bee simmered, looking ready to leap up and slap him again. Brennan studied him with a frown, while Kehinde pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose and watched me. Chartji waited beside the table. A few people moved past, staring at his expensive clothes and grim expression. He ignored everyone, yet I knew he was acutely aware of all of us. I was astonished he exposed himself to their censure.

He shifted, and we all started. Upon opening his mouth to speak, he closed it again.

After a moment he bowed his head and drew thumb and finger down the bridge of his nose. Finally he looked up. The tilt of his head and the rigid squareness of his shoulders revealed how hard he struggled to dig for words.

He let out a breath. “Might there be a private room where Catherine and I could talk?”

My cheeks were hot and my hands were cold, for I had not recovered from seeing him walk away, nor did I like the look of him bringing along the basket as if he meant to be rid of all reminders and encumbrances of me.

To my surprise Kehinde rose. Hers was not a large or boisterous figure, but when she wanted to, she commanded any space she was in. She bent her gaze on him, and because she was a woman older than he was, he listened, lifting his chin as if he knew he was about to take a hit.

“I do not know you, Magister. But if it were up to me, I would tell Cat she is well rid of a man who speaks to her in such a contemptuous way. Was it imprudent and disruptive of her to leave the mage House so precipitously? Perhaps. But I am thinking you would be better served to discover why you did not pay more attention to her grievances before it came to this.”

His expression darkened with an angry flush, but to my astonishment he took in and released several ragged breaths without any hammer of magic. With an effort he spoke again, clipped and impatient. “What must I do to be allowed to have a few private words with my wife?”

Kehinde indicated the table. “While I consider, perhaps you would like something to eat or drink.”

Vai clenched his hands to fists, sucked in air, and let it out. He moved to circle the table so he could sit by me, but Rory stepped in his path. The two men sized each other up. Rory smiled in a friendly but implacable way. Vai took in and released more harsh breaths as a curl of icy breeze tickled the air. At length he sat next to Brennan, and Rory settled in on his other side, boxing him in.

A server brought ale, bread, butter, and cheese. Everyone except Vai and me ate and drank. His tight jaw gave his mouth a sneer, but I knew he was battling embarrassment and feelings of humiliation, for he was certainly conscious of how badly he appeared. I could scarcely bear to look at him, for my emotions surged and ebbed and boiled in a bewildering confluence. Every time I did glance at him, it was to find him staring at me… glaring at me… beseeching me… I simply could no longer tell, and perhaps he did not quite know either.
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