She considered him severely. "Can you do any of that finger-waggling magic?"
"Finger-waggling? "
"You know," she said. "Like the wizards do. They mutter and waggle and sit upon their sorry arses and meddle with things better left to others."
"I try never to meddle," he said solemnly. "And I never waggle."
"Could you, if you wanted to?"
He wiggled his fingers and muttered. Then he smiled and shrugged. "Apparently not."
She reached out briefly and put her hand on his shoulder. "Then be content with your limitations, Miach."
"I'll try."
She looked at the edge of the hayloft and wondered if she dared approach. She scooted forward until she sat with her legs dangling over the edge of the loft. The horse beneath whinnied in greeting. Morgan's eyes began to burn again.
She glared at Miach. "It has to be the spell."
"What?" he asked, looking at her blankly.
Morgan gestured in irritation at the horse below. "Now, I'm weeping over a bloody horse!"
"He's quite a horse."
She would have thrown a dagger at him, but she found that they were once again not on her person. Miach pointed. She followed his arm and found them all in a tidy row, actually in the order she preferred, well within reach of where she'd lain. She would have reached for one, but she wasn't certain she dared move again. Morgan looked down at the floor of the barn and wondered if she dared that either.
"It will hold."
Morgan looked at him. "What. "
"Your leg. The break is mended."
"Then why does it still hurt so badly. "
"I didn't mend itthatwell. I didn't want you walking on it overmuch. Pain is a good thing, sometimes."
She paused and considered. "Miach, you can admit to me if the spell was too difficult. I'm grateful for what you were able to do. The pain is nothing."
Miach crawled over, ruffled her hair, and was halfway down the ladder before she managed to get her hand in position to cuff him for the liberty. A moment later, he was looking up at her from the stable floor.
It was possible that he chuckled.
"You will regret that laugh," she said.
"It was meant to stir your blood so you weren't afraid to come down the ladder."
"I am," she said, turning around and backing down the ladder carefully before stepping even more carefully on the ground and turning back around to look at him, "never afraid."
He looked at her with a faint smile for a moment or two. "Then you are fortunate," he said finally. "Now, will you walk a bit, or take a ride on your magnificent horse?"
"I'll try to walk first. Perhaps I'll make it to the hall and Hearn will feed us."
"He might even give you a drink out of the good well."
"I'll ask for two cups and share the other with you."
"You are too kind."
