“ I won’t try to tell you what to do,” Maldynado said, “but I’d be terribly put out if you wandered off and left us, leaving me with only Books to trade barbs with. He’s been too busy for it of late anyway, what with his political scheming. Oh, you should ask him about it, if you can stand a lecture. That might help you make up your mind about whether you want to back our efforts or not. Knowing Books, he wants to do something noble, democratic, and tormented-dead-ancestors boring.”
Evrial lifted her face from Maldynado’s shoulder. That actually… wasn’t a bad idea. If she knew what Amaranthe and the others wanted to replace Ravido with, she might know if this should be her fight or not.
Though night hadn’t relinquished its grasp, her eyes had long since adjusted to the dim lighting, and she could tell Maldynado was watching her. However offhandedly he’d said it, that he didn’t want her to leave… it meant something. She didn’t know exactly what yet, nor did she want to examine the feeling too closely, but she lifted her hand to his hair, letting her fingers trace the contours of his muscular back on the way. She probably should have chosen a moment when his wavy brown locks weren’t crunchy with ice to touch them, but one had to act when inspired. And, though she’d never admit it to him, sitting on the lap of someone who, despite his comrades’ teasing to the contrary, did have a physique that would be very flattering if immortalized in statue forum, was quite… inspiring.
“ You’re wiser than you let on, Maldynado,” Evrial said.
“ Mmhmm, remember those kind thoughts when you’re sitting through hour three of Books’s explanation.” Though he said the words casually, his body had grown very still; he scarcely seemed to be breathing. Surely Lord Cocky and Confident wasn’t having doubts about what to do next? “How’s your shoulder?” he asked.
“ It wasn’t that big of a quarrel, and I pulled it out right away.”
“ Does that mean the feral cats have quieted down, or you’re just too tough to be bothered by them?”
It meant she wanted him to stop talking and kiss her. She couldn’t quite bring herself to blurt that out though. Even though she was ninety-nine percent certain he wouldn’t reject her, she still feared he’d lose interest after he achieved that goal he’d been pursuing. That would hurt. A lot. But he’d saved her life tonight. She owed him something for that.
Oh, please, Evi, she thought. He was gorgeous, adorable, and who wouldn’t be curious to know if all that supposed experience of his equated to masterful bed play? Besides, those frozen pine needles had been the most interesting things to poke her nether regions in she didn’t know how long.
“ My shoulder is better,” Evrial said. “How are… your love apples?”
The strangled noise that came from Maldynado’s throat might have been a laugh or an exclamation of surprise. Both, perhaps. “They’re better now too. They’ve been nice and warm since you climbed into my lap.”
“ It’s good to know that they’ve recovered.” Evrial trailed her fingers from his hair to his shoulder, tracing the rounded swell of his muscles, and breathing in the mingling scents of cedar boughs and his warm, clean skin. She watched him watching her, expecting him to kiss her at any moment, but he hadn’t moved yet. He was still holding utterly still. Almost as if he’d developed a shy streak. No, he was probably afraid she’d snap at him if he touched her. If so, she had only herself to blame for that.
“ Maldynado?” she asked.
“ Yes?”
Evrial smiled at the hint of squeakiness in his voice. She didn’t imagine that he usually hesitated with women, and thought maybe, just maybe, he cared more about the outcome here. “I’m trying to seduce you,” she said.
“ Oh, good. That’s what I thought, but I was afraid you’d give me a huffy, ‘no touching,’ order if my fingers went exploring.”
“ Tempting, but I think it’d be more fun if we both engaged in touching. Just this-”
The last word disappeared beneath a pair of warm, eager lips. With her permission given, his hands found all sorts of places to touch, the sword calluses on his palms stirring delicious sensations as they slid over her flesh. Any thoughts of associating him with the word shy disappeared. Instead, the image a long-restrained panther came to mind, the powerful predator suddenly unleashed and leaping for its prey. After that, she was too distracted to manage coherent thoughts.
? Amaranthe was not, she told herself, hiding from Sicarius and his proclivity for filling downtime with training. She was simply checking in on Books. And waiting impatiently for Maldynado and the others to return with information.
“ Stop,” Books said without looking up from the stack of papers on the desk in front of him. Three pens and an old-fashioned quill and inkwell surrounded his work, dribbling stains onto the pages.
Amaranthe realized she’d been tidying the papers on the bunk and clasped her hands behind her back. “Sorry.”
“ I’m still brainstorming. I’m not ready to organize.”
“ Where do you sleep?”
The papers were sprawled across both bunks, not to mention much of the floor.
“ Right here,” Books said.
“ Where does Maldynado sleep?”
“ I don’t know.”
Amaranthe watched Books’s pen fly. They’d been on board a few nights now. Was he truly that oblivious? “When are you going to share the highlights of this masterpiece with the rest of us?”
“ Soon. I’m sure you’ll want to contribute and suggest amendments.”
“ Me? I lack experience and education in the area of politics.” She’d planned to suggest Sespian sit in on the meeting and offer most of the ideas. He might be young, but he would have studied civil history and political science from birth.
“ It’s not that much different from business,” Books said, “just less efficient. Besides, you’re the one spearheading the revolt. You’ll want to be firmly behind the new ideas we propose.”
Amaranthe let her hands droop to her sides. Spearheading the revolt? Her? She was simply trying to stop Forge and Ravido. They were the ones revolting, not her.
A soft knock sounded. Amaranthe feared Sicarius had come to collect her for another round of training, but he didn’t usually bother knocking. Or being constrained by door locks.
“ Come in,” Books said without lifting his head.
Amaranthe strode to the door, a hand on her knife. Though security hadn’t run a full-boat search yet, she didn’t know if that would last.
The door eased open. Basilard slipped inside with Akstyr trailing after him.
“ It’s not my fault,” Akstyr whispered with emphasis that made Amaranthe suspect he was repeating the statement.
She shut the door behind them. “What’s the problem?”
“ Watch where you step,” Books warned, his head still bent over his work.
Basilard picked his way between pages without touching anything and stopped in a foot-wide bare spot in the corner.
“ There’s junk all over the floor,” Akstyr said. “Where am I supposed to stand?”
“ It is not junk.” This new threat finally bestirred Books to rise. He stomped about gathering the pages, placing them in a particular order as he stacked them. He halted before Akstyr and pointed at the floor. “I’ll thank you to remove your grimy boot from the corner of that page.”
Akstyr lifted his leg and held it there, knee bent, the sneer on his lips suggesting he’d like to plant his “grimy boot” between Books’s hind cheeks. He noticed Amaranthe watching him, though, and lowered his leg. “Maldynado and Yara are missing.”
“ What happened?” Amaranthe asked.
“ We got separated. I sensed a Made artifact-lots of them-and went to try and find the source. I thought the others were right behind me.” Akstyr paused to glower at Basilard.
Basilard lifted his hands and signed, When I spotted Maldynado fighting the enforcers, he was alone.
“ Fighting the enforcers?” Amaranthe asked. “Start at the beginning.”