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“No. You’re my own sweet lass, and all the woman I could ever want.” He kissed her, pulling her close. Alanna struggled for a second, surprised, then relaxed, enjoying the kiss and the feeling of being held tightly and protectively. George pulled away, watching her face closely. “There’s plenty more fish in the sea than Prince Jonathan,” he told her softly. “And this particular fish loves you with all his crooked heart.”
Alanna snuggled close, lifting her face to his again. “I’m glad,” she said honestly. “I need to be loved right now. Kiss me again, please.”
“Oh, no,” George said, drawing in a ragged breath. “If I kiss you again now, one thing will lead to another, and this isn’t the proper place for that sort of carryin’-on.”
“Then take me to a place that is,” she suggested. When he hesitated, she added, “I know what I’m doing, George. And it’s not just because Jon found someone else. This should’ve happened between us a long time ago.”
He stood, clearing his throat. “Well, then.” Suddenly he laughed. “Come with me, darlin’ girl.”
If Coram noticed that she had moved her things into George’s room, he either said nothing or voiced his opinions to Rispah alone. Certainly he seemed happy that Alanna had left her fury and her self-pity behind. Rispah gave Alanna a big, lusty wink the first time she caught the young knight leaving George’s chambers, and the thieves made no remarks at all. The only change in House Azik was in moods: people whistled at their chores; Marek teased the maids, and Rispah and Coram acted like teenagers in love.
Only one thing marred those autumn weeks in the house on Dog Lane: a growing feeling of power, radiating from Corus. At first Alanna ignored it, thinking it to be part of her depression. The sensation persisted, until she mentioned it to George. He reminded her that the only one in Corus who could focus that kind of power was Thom, and she sent message after message to her twin. If Thom wasn’t the cause of the magic, he would know who (or what) was; but the young sorcerer never answered her letters. When she tried to communicate with him through the fire burning in George’s hearth, two days before All Hallow, she found only a gathering cloud she could not penetrate.
“What do you see?” George asked softly as she stared at purple flames.
Magic, Faithful answered when Alanna gave no sign of hearing George’s query. All around the city. And no way to get through to Thom, whether he’s causing it or not.
George looked at the cat—he couldn’t become accustomed to those occasions when he could understand Faithful—and grimaced. “Any way to find out if it’s for harm?”
“I don’t sense evil in it.” Alanna sounded as if she was thinking aloud. “And Thom wouldn’t thank me for riding into the city and disrupting one of his experiments.”
If that’s what it is, Faithful commented.
Alanna stared at the flames for a while longer. Suddenly, shaking her head to clear it, she clapped her hands, ending the spell with the command, “So mote it be!”
“You’ll wait?” George asked, his eyes kindly. Alanna nodded. He reached down and helped her to her feet. “Then you may as well be comfortable while you wait,” he grinned as he swept her off her feet and dumped her into bed.
All Hallow dawned bleak and stormy. The waves battered the cliffs below the house, and the winds blew away anything not already fastened down. Alanna arose to find George gone, summoned to the city on a matter of business. His note said he hoped to be back by nightfall, but if he was kept too late he would stay at the Dancing Dove in Corus, rather than risk the return trip after dark. She wasn’t to wait up, and she wasn’t to worry. If she was good, he would bring her a surprise—and not stolen, either! Alanna grinned at this last, recognizing the joke behind many gifts George had given her and Jon in the years they had known each other. For a second the thought of Jon made her grim; but she soon brightened. George obviously loved her, and she had responded to her friend’s love like a flower opening in the sun. Never before had she been coddled and treated like something precious. Jon had always treated her as a comrade, except when they were making love. She usually liked the way the prince handled her, but a small, treacherous part of her longed for the gentle courtesy he gave noble ladies. Now George gave her that courtesy, as well as treating her like a comrade, and she liked the mixture.
Toward noon exhaustion hit her like a sledgehammer. She was barely able to make it to her bed before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When she awoke, it was pitch-dark, and the wind howled outside the shuttered windows. She reached out and ordered the branch of candles beside her bed to light, something she had done without thinking since becoming a shaman for the Bazhir. There was no flame in answer to her command, and when she looked inside, searching for her Gift, she found just a trace of magic. Only then did she discover the ember-stone was flickering with increasing urgency, and that the crystal sword was humming in its sheath as it had not in weeks.
While she slept, something had come and leeched away her Gift.
Lighting candles with a spill from the banked fire, she headed for the library. Some extensive books of magic were there, and she had promised herself a look at them. Now seemed like an excellent time.
There was no sign of Faithful as she padded through the quiet halls. Marek and the other men had gone with George. Rispah and Coram would probably be in Rispah’s chambers; and Rispah’s woman friend, Harra, retired early. The servants had gone home for the night. Alanna felt all alone, odd and detached. She knew she ought to care that someone had tapped her Gift, but she couldn’t.
It was nearly midnight when she closed the last volume, rubbing her eyes tiredly. As she had suspected, the only one with the power and the closeness to Alanna needed for such a tapping was her twin. She should have been angry, but her emotions felt dead. And she was getting sleepy again.
Suddenly she heard—and didn’t hear—a boom, a crash that made even her dull senses quiver with alarm. The crystal sword shrieked and fell silent. Somewhere Faithful let out an anguished howl. Seconds later the door burst open, and the cat hurled himself onto Alanna’s chest. She soothed him, caressing his fur and holding his shivering body close. It was fully an hour before he relaxed enough to let go of her tunic and settle onto her lap.
It’s over, whatever it was, he yowled as he yawned. He did the spell he needed all that power for.
Alanna took him back to her bedchamber. No one else was stirring, so she and Faithful were the only ones able to feel whatever had happened. “We might as well forget it,” she advised the cat as she hung the crystal sword on its hook. “I doubt Thom will give us an explanation.”
To her surprise, when George returned the next day he brought a note from the young sorcerer. Thom had w
ritten:
Dearest Alanna,
Perhaps this letter should have come to you sooner, but it was only when your friend George demanded an explanation that I realized you might be affected by my recent work. On All Hallow I will be attempting some experiments—all very arcane and esoteric, with no meaning for anyone but a Master, I promise you. The work is quite delicate and requires plenty of power. To get it, I’ll be tapping you, since you never use more than a small part of your Gift. I know you won’t mind. If I’ve caused you any inconvenience or worry, please forgive me.
Your loving brother
Thom
“Well, I mind!” George snapped when she told him. “I could feel the city shake when he did his precious ‘experiments’! Doesn’t your twin have any regard for us lesser folk?”
Alanna had sent a blistering letter to her brother that morning, telling him the same thing. Now she grinned and shook her head. “He learned to be secretive in the Mithran Cloisters,” she said. “If he can’t be bothered to consult with me beforehand, he certainly won’t care about other Gifted people. Let’s just be thankful he’s doing experiments, instead of being up to real harm.”
Thom’s reply to her angry letter arrived before the week was out and extended his deepest apologies to his sister. With her Gift restoring itself, Alanna decided to let that be the end of the whole affair. She doubted that Thom would ever borrow her magic again without her consent. Obviously there were no other ill effects of his All Hallow’s experiments.
When the first snows fell, early in December, Alanna greeted their coming with dismay. George laughed as she unpacked her heavy clothing and covered herself with layers of silk and wool. She shrugged off his teasing, having endured its like from her friends for years. Now more than ever she missed the desert, and infrequent letters from Halef Seif only made her longing sharper. Recognizing her mood, George went to great trouble to find things to amuse and divert her; but in the week after Mid-Winter Festival ended, she spent an entire day poring over maps in the library.
