Cold Magic

25

"I have no brother."

The young man man'drew a hand over his glossy hair exactly as a cat might preen. I thought he would lick his own hand, but he did not. "It's true we weren't birthed from the same womb, but the same male sired us. How am I not, then, your brother?"

"You are either mad or deluded."

"It is so tiring to watch you being stubborn. And I admit, I feel a bit of a chill. Is it always this cold in the Deathlands? How does one cope?"

"By wearing clothes, for one thing. In your current state of undress, you'll be hauled in by the local wardens."

"How complicated this all is!" he said with a grin that, despite my shock, made my lips twitch. "How very exciting! Will I wear something like you have on? I thought maybe that was your skin, rather wrinkled and smelly, but you never know with creatures over here, do you?"

"I am wearing women's clothing. You will wear men's cloth-ing.

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes. Now be quiet and let me think. Come over here by the oak so we can stand out of sight of restless eyes." He followed me obediently enough and trailed a hand along the bark. I rested both hands against the trunk, palms flat, and shut my eyes, but all I heard was a buzzing sound, as if thousands of bees

were confined within. The sound made my flesh tingle and my mind fill with insane thoughts.

We came when you called. What had the eru had me do? Call for my kin at the stone pillar. I'd thought my call had somehow broken the mansa's hold on the carriage, and maybe it had, but what if my voice had reached farther yet into the unknown expanse of the spirit world? What did I know of the chains that bind kin in the spirit world or how far they might reach?

His face resembled mine, although his eyes had more of a yellowish orange tinge while mine were commonly described as amber. His hair was so thick and silky, as black as if swallowed by night, that it alone would capture people's notice, as mine often did. His skin was darker than mine, but that was not uncommon here in the north where the progenitors and grandparents of siblings and cousins could range from the palest of Celts to the darkest of Mande and might include forebears of Roman, Kena'ani, or other ancestry as well.

Yet looks are not everything. At this moment I felt rather massively annoyed by him in a way that reminded me of being annoyed at Bee. If I were a cat, I might have said he had the right scent, if by scent one embraces a larger concept having to do with smell, taste, heart, bond, well-being, and a sense of belonging.

1 stepped back from the oak. "For the sake of argument, let's say I believe that you believe you are my brother. What am I to call you?"

"'Brother'?"

"Haven't you a name?"

He pulled his long hair through his fingers as if surprised and delighted by a new toy. "I know who I am, but I can put no name to that. Others know me, but that relationship is not reducible to a word." He dipped his head toward my ear and inhaled deeply, audibly, as if inhaling me and who I was. He winced and drew back. "Whew! You need cleaning."

"Why did you call me Cat? You cannot have known that is the pet name I've been called by my"-family-"by others."

"But you are Cat." He clearly seemed to expect I would treat him in the manner of a long-lost relative, when in fact he was just another chance-met stranger on the road. "You don't believe me," he added. "Why else would we come to aid you, and be able to find you, if you did not call for us?"

"We?"

"My mother and aunt and sister and cousins and niece."

"I met your mother already?"

"Of course you did."

"She was the djeli?"

He laughed. "Cat, you are not stupid. So I wish you would not pretend to be."

I cast my gaze at the sky. Clouds softened the horizon; the sun sank, and soon it would be night and deathly cold even for a denizen of the spirit world masquerading in human form in the mortal world. The cold air congealed my words, or maybe I did not want to say them, because saying them would make it true. Or make me believe it could be true.

"Are you saying you are one of the saber-toothed cats who came to my rescue?"

He sighed as if, having told me all along there was a view to the outside, he was forced to confirm it by opening the shutters himself.

"Are you saying my father is a saber-toothed cat?"

He waved a hand dismissively. He had the most absorbing way of moving, like beauty made flesh. "Oh… him. What does anyone know about him? My mother once called him a… How would you say it?" He tapped his chin. "A tomcat?"

"If you mean to say he roams around to satisfy his base desires, fighting with other males and impregnating females, then, yes, he would be called a tomcat."

"Yes. That's it."

"That's not a flattering portrait of the man-the creature- who sired me!"

"No," he agreed without heat. No doubts or unmet dreams about his sire tormented him! "Didn't your mother tell you anything about him?"

"She's dead."

"Oh,"he said. "That happens here in the Deathlands, doesn't it?" He broke off to eye the heavens with a squint, frowning briefly. "The day is not much longer meant to brighten us here, is it? Will it be warmer at night?"

I glanced toward the road. The fields wore a cloak of snow, the kind whose surface has grown hard from days exposed to sun and wind and bitter cold. Traffic passed at intervals; on such a day, not many folk cared to be out and about. A man leading a laden donkey glanced our way, and a party of armed men dressed in tabards to mark their service to a nobleman's household clattered past.

"No, it will be colder, and we will freeze to death. So the first thing is, we've got to travel without drawing notice to ourselves." I low quickly 1 proceeded from "I" to "we." I made the calculations in my head. I had to reach Adurnam and warn Bee. I was alone, and young, and female. He was male, definitely that, and it appeared he felt obligated to protect me. Also, I was beginning to really shiver. "We will walk into Lemanis. You will keep your mouth shut. I will find us a modest room in a modest inn. There, you will remain while I hunt clothing for you."

"Mama will approve of you. Out hunting for me already!"

"Be serious! You must say nothing until I have devised a suitable story that people may not believe but will accept."

I started to walk, and I was relieved that, as he strode beside me, he had the prudence to keep the cloak pulled shut with one hand so as not to display any more of himself than he had to.

His bare feet flashing below the hem looked frightful enough, padding across the snow. We reached the road and clambered up onto its pavement, an artifact of the old empire.

"First of all, you must have a name." I frowned at him. He did look like me; no one would think it exceptional if I claimed him as my brother. The most singular difference was in our complexions, mine lighter and somewhat golden, not uncommon among the Kena'ani, while he had that reddish brown coloring. "Roderic," I said, "for your complexion. I'll call you Rory for your pet name."

"I like to be petted." His smile startled a pair of women beating rugs outside the gates. They simpered as he slowed to eye them very much in the manner of a tomcat thinking of going on the prowl.

I elbowed him hard in the ribs. "Move on, you imbecile. Beyond anything, we must not attract notice." With him sauntering beside me, it was too late for that.

The surrounding gardens and fields and copses lay bare under winter's hands. The view opened westward across the Levels to where the sun sank into the high country of Anderida.

We passed under the unguarded gate. What was there to guard against? The princes and mage Houses kept the roads and towns at peace under their rule, and while a few cohorts of restless youth might ride in small bands in the countryside pretending to raid cattle, or hiring themselves out to a lord or a mage House for a season or two, most such bands had long since been absorbed into the great households of the noble and the wealthy.

Lemanis bore the stamp of better days. Its streets did not bustle. Some of the stone buildings had fallen into disrepair, and gardens lay fallow in generous yards where, by the evidence of mounds of dirt and decayed piles of debris, other structures had once stood. A pair of competing inns always stand close by any town gate. Both appeared modest and reasonably clean. Trained

by merchants, I felt no compunction in asking to see the available rooms in each establishment and then afterward playing the one off the other given that few travelers could be expected in this cold season to warm half-empty coffers. Young and shivering as we were, we might even have awoken sympathy in the breasts of these robust innkeepers. As odd as a barefooted and clothing-less man in winter would appear, the tale that he had been robbed and stripped of all his belongings, including baggage, carriage, and horses, while his beloved sister cowered in protective hiding behind a hedge of yew offered a fine incentive for luring in locals for a drink in the days after we had gone on our way.

By the time I had settled on a night's stay at the County Members, with its gracious hearth and a small but respectable upstairs room for which I bespoke all four beds, I realized Rory was also his father's son in one regard at least. In a quiet town where no excitement beckons in the depths of the winter season, he had attracted an audience of appreciative females. Cursed man! He was still smiling at the women who had trailed into the common room in his wake. Clearly he was going to be a terrible nuisance. They tittered and whispered among themselves but fortunately did not follow us up the narrow stairs. I pushed Rory into our room, untied my cloak, removed my gloves, and shoved them into his arms. Then I shut the door in his face before turning to face the innkeeper.

She chuckled, her rosy face crinkling with laugh lines. "A rare handful, that one. I know the type. Who's the elder between you?"

The question startled me, but I am nothing if not quick to find my feet. "He is, of course, but I have always had to act the role, ever since our parents-" Here I broke off, not sure if we had decided our parents were alive or quite dead. Best to keep it as close to the truth as possible. "We have the same father but different mothers. There has been trouble."

"Ah. Folk do say it is better to be quarreling than lonesome,

but two women in the same house are like pepper and honey in the same pot."

"Yes, indeed. I was wondering if you know where we could find clothing for him."

"My cousin lost her eldest son just a year back. She kept his things. It's respectable clothing that might fit him. Although it'll be nothing as elegant as what you must be accustomed to," she added as she looked over my fine cloak.

"We would be grateful for anything, and will pay what it is worth," I assured her.

"Will you come dowrlstairs so I can enter you in my ledger?"

I cast a glance at the door, a serviceable slab of wood showing the wear of years; it had been patched around the latch, as if rough handling some time in the past had broken the latch and needed repair. Like everything else, it was scrupulously clean. As the innkeeper descended the stairs, I paused to listen, but all I heard was Rory prowling in the confines of his cage.

When I reached the common room, the innkeeper was just sending one of her daughters out to the cousin for the clothes.

"I'm sure we can find something for you, too, dear," she said as she sat at a table and opened her ledger. "A clean shift, perhaps. It will be easy enough to clean your outer clothes with a brush so you can be ready to travel in the morning, although I am not sure how you can do so having lost your conveyance. The warden is out on a complaint in the countryside. Sheep stealing, of all things! That hasn't happened for years! He'll be back in a day or two and you can make your report then."

I flushed as it belatedly, and too late, occurred to me that our tale of woe would bring keener attention to our persons. All because of Roderic and his cursed nakedness!

"We can't wait so long. We've got to be on our way in the morning. Rut a clean shift and a bath"-I sighed, not playacting at all-"would be glorious."