"I'm hoping he will bare his arse to the wind tonight and fall backward upon a patch of nettles," Miach said, rubbing his ear crossly.
Morgan looked at him in shock, then laughed. The thought was so singularly appealing, that she laughed again.
When she finally controlled her mirth, she dragged her sleeve across her tearing eyes and looked at Miach. He was staring at her as if he'd never seen her before, but a smile was playing about his mouth.
"What?" she asked. "I've never heard you laugh before."
"Haven't you?" she asked. She smiled again, just for the pleasure of it. "You know, I can't remember the last time I did. But that was quite possibly the most fitting revenge I've ever heard of. "
"I thought you liked him," Miach said mildly.
"You know, I don't. I never did. I was confused during our initial encounter, but then he sat up and began to bray. I knew then that he was a complete jackass." She looked at him and shrugged. "I can't say I'm surprised by my first thoughts about him. I have no experience with men. I mean, that kind of experience," she added. "Well, save Glines, of course, but he does not truly love me. "
"I daresay he does," Miach said with a smile. "Hopelessly, no doubt, but he does."
"He is a fool." She looked down at her hands. "Your brother is a different kind of fool. I'm certain he does not want me for me." She looked at him. "Does he?"
Miach stared at her openmouthed. Then he shut his mouth and patted himself suddenly. "Why is it I never have a blade on hand to sharpen when I want to change the subject?"
"I could loan you one of mine. "
"Yours are already too sharp." He looked at her. "Cards? "
"Are we changing the subject?"
"Aye, we are. Have you coin in that small purse of yours, or do we wager something else? "
"I have a coin or two," she said, "but that does not seem a very interesting wager."
Miach looked up thoughtfully into the night sky, then back at her. "I'll wager a useful spell against an hour of training with you."
"Miach, I'm dreaming spells even during the day. I'm not sure I want to know any more."
He reached out and covered her hand with his. "Poor girl," he said quietly. "I wish I could take this from you." He paused. "Do you want me to? Take the blade for you to Tor Neroche?"
She caught her breath. It was quite possibly the single most devastating temptation she had ever faced. Every league bought her closer to the end of her quest, but each league seemed to bring her closer as well to the end of her sanity. Darkness covered the journey before her.
But it also covered the distance behind her.
She squeezed his hand. He did not flinch, even though she quickly could not feel her fingers anymore.
"You cannot take this from me," she managed.
He looked at her for several moments in silence. Indeed, Morgan felt the world fall away until it was nothing for her but looking into those palest of blue eyes and wondering if she would ever find herself again.
And then Miach lifted her hand, kissed it roughly, and put it back in her lap.
"A useful spell," he said harshly. "Werelight, or some other such rot."
"The ability to cause nettles to grow in a short time?" she asked lightly.
He looked at her, then laughed suddenly. "Aye," he said, clearing his throat. "Aye, that one I might manage."
"All right, then," she said, "but it is absolutely thelastspell I'm going to learn. I've learned more than I ever intended to and I'm weary of it."
"As you will," he said.
"I had best win this hand quickly," she said, "for I daresay I'll need that very last spell before the first watch is finished."
