A Gathering Of Stones

##

Working quickly, they loaded the gear onto the pallet, stowing it about the recumbent figures of the two thieves. Trithil Esmoon produced a reel of silk cord and helped Danny rope the pouches in place. She started to tie Felsrawg’s ankles, but Danny stopped her. “No need,” he said. “They’ll both be out till around mid-morning.”

She straightened, gave him a small tight smile. “Me?”

“Keep your hands to yourself.”

She twiddled her fingers and laughed at him, her eyes flirted at him, very blue even in the dim fringes of the lamplight. “A promise; I swear it. Until you ask, Laz.”

“Take off your rings.”

“What?”

“Take them off or join Felsrawg and Simms.”

“I gave you my word.”

“Fine. Now, put the rings away.”

She looked at him a moment, looked away. “If I must.” She folded back her left sleeve, stripped the rings off her fingers and thumb, dropping them into the hem-pocket and turned the sleeve back to fall in graceful points about her knuckles. “Are you satisfied?”

He grunted. “You’ll sit on my left, that arm away from me.”

The door was still open, the pale yellow light streaming out to lose itself in the drizzle. She stood in the light, her body outlined by it, her fine hair shining like silver silk. The yellow light slid off her elegant cheek, put a liquid glimmer between her lashes, gilded her upper lip, her chin. She was unreal, beauty like that was unreal. He stared at her; he was tired, so tired he was looking at her through a haze. He had no desire for her, no need to touch to take her. He simply looked and kept on looking because he couldn’t turn away. Her hands were lifted, unmoving yet indescribably graceful in their stillness. She dropped them to her sides and the spell was broken.

“Climb on,” he said. “Be with you in a minute.” He turned his back on her and went to the end of the sled. As she settled herself in front of the pouches, he squatted beside the energy sinks. Despite having to wrestle stormwinds during the trips to and from the Henanolee Heart, the sled hadn’t used much power; the sinks were still two-thirds full. He was the empty one, exhausted in both senses of the word. He flattened his hands over the cells, drew power from them into his own accumulators; he’d bleed it off later, use it to wash out some of the fatigue poisons clogging his mind and body. He had to stay awake; he had to watch the trau Esmoon. He trusted Trithil Esmoon less than the thieves, though her weapons were easier to combat-as long as he kept away from those venomous rings. He broke the contact and stood.

The rain had diminished in force until it was hardly more than a heavy mist. The towers rising around the Inn were dark; he couldn’t see the streets, but he knew from the silence that they too were dark and empty; the island was sunk in its end-of-season weariness. There were no lights anywhere-except in his bedroom. He scowled, snapped his fingers, muttered a word; the lamps went out, making the dark complete. He wiped fog off his face, walked briskly to the front of the sled and settled himself behind the console.