“Well, most of the southies thought it stupid too—talking cat or no, it’s all still a bunch of children’s stories,” Jeff replied, looking out over the courtyard. “And most everybody had a hard time seeing you, the peacock o’ the mountain, as evil incarnate.” He propped a knee up and rested his arm on it, leaning against the back of the bench. “Besides, I’ve been around both you and the ambassador the most, and nothing’s happened to me.” He shrugged. “Then the news hit this morning and everyone thought who cares—the king calls you cousin.”
“Everyone? Or most everyone?” I asked, remembering the grumbles and sidelong glances at me during our soggy trek out of the mountains into Gresh.
“Anyone that matters,” Jeff said. He saw my look and shrugged. “Royal favor covers a heap of sins, Rabbit.” I didn’t reply, placing my hand gently against the butterfly’s front legs, and it stepped onto my palm. It slowly flapped its wings as it moved across the rune and climbed to a finger.
“But it’s true, isn’t it?” Jeff asked after a moment. “As you told the captains, we are—what you called it—translated. Changed from human into the magical.”
“Yes.” I turned my hand so that the butterfly moved to the back of my finger and I held it up to eye level. “It’s true, and you know it.” I gave him a sideways glance. “Why didn’t you back Groskin?”
The butterfly beat its wings, fanning my face.
Jeff shrugged, his eyes angry. “Because I have no desire to put myself in Slevoic’s tender care no matter what is swooping down on me.” He saw my look and his mouth twisted. “The Vicious did that cheroot thing in another fight. Put it right in the trooper’s eye, blinded him. Then he told the poor sod that if Ebner ever found out, his sisters would be next—and he described them both, saying their names.” I blinked, realizing which trooper Jeff was talking about. I’d been told he’d gotten drunk and fell into the fire. He had been discharged from the army as unfit for duty and now worked in the stables of an inn as a groomer, knee-deep in horse muck.
“You’re a little odd sometimes,” Jeff said, “and you keep too many damn secrets from your mates.”
“I’m not odd—” I began as a second butterfly landed on my wrist.
Jeff spoke over me. “But you don’t smile while you’re describing the injuries your men sustained while out on patrol with you.” His mouth twisted again. “He drools at the thought of getting you alone, Rabbit.”
I knew.
It was silent as we watched a company of bumblebees hold a flowering bush against all comers. “So, I’m a badger?” Jeff asked after a little bit.
“Yes.”
Jeff sighed. “All the animals in the world and I get small and furry.”
“I don’t know, Jeff,” I said. “The ones around my parents’ farm were pretty impressive. Even the wolves left them alone.” Both butterflies beat their wings together and my hair blew back from my face in the draft.
“What about Ryson?” Jeff asked, and paused.
“Weasel,” we said at the same time.
“Though polecat would’ve come in a close second,” Jeff said. “Slevoic has been assigned back to the stables,” he added. “Javes is having him clean and mend all the tack.” He gave an evil smile. “And Ryson and Groskin have kitchen rota together until Suiden says otherwise. Basel got so mad when he found out that he forgot to call Suiden ‘sir’ and burnt the toast.”
My eyes got wide as my breakfast turned to lead in my stomach. “Heigh-ho, merry-go. Groskin and Ryson? Does anyone dare eat?”
As Jeff claimed that he waited for the other troopers to take the first bite, both butterflies flew off and the wind of their flight rushed past me, blowing through the tree, swaying branches and rustling leaves. I leaned back against the bench and crossed my ankles. And uncrossed them in a hurry as a spider was shaken out of the pomegranate tree, landing near my feet. He was pale and elongated as opposed to his more brightly hued, muscular brethren, and we watched as he scurried off, making sure that he didn’t turn back towards us.
Losing the spider in the shadow of the fountain, I eased back on the bench, again thrusting my feet out in front of me. After seriously contemplating my boots, I sighed. “All right, maybe you’re right.”
Jeff looked at me and waited.
“Maybe I do keep too many secrets. It’s just that—” I tried to smile. It didn’t work. “I left the Border running from something that scared me spitless, Jeff.”
“What? You being a mage?”
“Not a mage. Not yet. Not even close. An apprentice.” I watched the fountain spray sparkle in the sunlight. “My master—I could feel his lust—” I broke off as Jeff shifted on the bench and I scowled at him. “No, not that.”
“Oh,” muttered Jeff. “Sorry.”
“It was as if he was starving and I was supper. It scared me,” I repeated. “Hell, it scared me.” I took another breath and shrugged. “So I ran away and came here, hoping no one would find me.”
“But they did,” Jeff pointed out.
“Yeah,” I said. “They did.”
“How did we get lost, Rabbit?” Jeff asked after a moment.
“I don’t know,” I said. I saw his side glance. “I’ve asked Laurel again and again, and he denies having anything to do with it.” I shrugged. “I believe him.” At least about that.
“Your hand is glowing,” Jeff said.
I looked down and saw the rune bright in the tree’s shade. I held my palm up and Jeff took and angled my hand so that the sun fell directly on it. “What does it say?” he asked. He moved my hand back into the shade so the rune stood out more and bent over it. Another butterfly flew by, the draft of its passing as strong as the wake from Dragoness Moraina’s wings. It circled back and landed on my shoulder and I felt the weight of it anchor me to the earth even as the wind whispered to me the secret of flight.
“Truth,” I said, as Jeff reached out a finger to the bright lines.
“What the bloody hell are you doing? Get away from him!” Jeff jumped up as Groskin came storming out of the officers’ mess. The butterfly beat its wings once, twice, and I felt them brushing against my cheek. It then took off, a speck of color against the blue sky.
“Groskin!” Suiden emerged from the captains’ office. Groskin snapped to attention. “Trooper Jeffen is exactly where he’s supposed to be. You are not. Return to your post.” Groskin, without meeting my eyes, spun around and marched back into the house.
Suiden stood a moment, grimacing in the bright sunlight. He men gave it up as a bad job and turned to go back into his office. “Come inside.” We followed Suiden inside and in the relative dark of the room, I made out someone standing next to the captain.
“This is Lord Esclaur ibn Dhawn e Jas, Lieutenant. The king has sent him to help with your mail.” Figuring that I must be the only lieutenant in the Royal Army with a social secretary, I bowed. As I came back up for air, my eyes adjusted to the dimness and I recognized him as me lordling who made the crack about squirrels. Remembering Lord Gherat escorting me, I realized that my royal cousin had a twisted sense of humor.
“Grace to you, Lieutenant Lord Rabbit ibn Chause e Fla-van,” Lord Esclaur said as he bowed back. He was Captain Javes’ spiritual brother, down to his quiz glass and brown pomaded curls. “I understand that you have an embarrassment of invitational riches.”
I looked over to Captain Suiden’s desk and saw the mountain of mail had grown to a mountain range. “Yes, my lord, I suppose you can say that.” Lord Esclaur followed my gaze and his mouth hung open for a second. He shut it with a snap and minced over to the white envelopes, lifting his quiz glass. “My word. All this for you? You are popular, aren’t you?”