“The first one didn’t count.” Mallenia put her hand on the queen’s shoulder. “We should not risk our friendship for his sake. You saved my life and I shall never forget that.” She became serious. “Do you want me to stand back and leave him to you? If you tell me to I shall respect your wishes.”
Coira shook her head. “That would not be fair.”
Mallenia smiled at her. “I respect you all the more for that.” She gestured toward the little pool. “Off you go. Go and help him bathe.”
No!” she exclaimed. “I can’t do that!”
“That’s the only way to find out what he wants and how he feels about you. Don’t hesitate. I did, for too long.” Mallenia gave the maga a little shove which sent her tumbling out of the bushes.
She stumbled through the undergrowth toward the stream before regaining her balance. Before she could hide again Rodario had seen her.
Coira could not hear what he called out. From the bushes Mallenia urged her to go on to the waterfall, and then withdrew. Well then, the maga said to herself, and stepped toward the cascade, which sprayed her with a fine mist and wetted her face, her hair and her clothing.
“I thought I would take you up on your offer,” she called out, standing in such a way as not to see all of him. Or his little Rodario.
“Very nice of you,” he said quietly, walking past her and bending over, so that she saw his taut buttocks. She turned swiftly away. “I’m finished here now. But I’ll keep watch for you. He pulled on his long shirt and hid his nakedness. “May I help you undress? You must be used to having assistance, you being a princess and all.”
“Only from my maid. Never from someone I don’t know.” She indicated he should turn round while she took off her clothes, layer by layer. Until she got to the gloves. The air was cool and she was shivering. She stepped quickly into the water, which was surprisingly warm. “You can turn round again now.”
Rodario sat down on the bank and watched the maga with an impenetrable smile. “Strange bathing practices,” he said, pointing at the gloves. “Why is that?”
“They… there’s a spell on them. I never take them off.”
“A spell?” he dangled his feet in the water and observed her. “What sort of spell? Are your fingers so ugly that you have to hide them? Or do you have dirt under your fingernails from all the alchemy experiments you do?”
She splashed him, taking care to keep her upper body under water and out of sight. Coira had surprised herself. What did she think he would do? That he might be bold enough to come into the pool to join her? That he would not behave as a man of honor should? How did heroes behave when they weren’t campaigning against injustice and oppression? “You are making fun of me.”
“Never!” Suddenly his gaze traveled past her, to the pool itself. “Do you know the story of the Moon Pond? Old Boindil told me the tale… he’s not much of a connoisseur about elf romances but he certainly enjoyed the killing sequences in the story. I prefer to concentrate on other parts.” He retold the story and Coira listened, spellbound, as she swam in the pool. “What do you think? Do you think there may be more passageways like the one in the story?” Again, he was staring at the water.
“Now I understand!” She laughed. “You’re trying to frighten me.”
“No, I’m not. But we are in Ran Ribastur-the enchanted land, if you like. It doesn’t have to be an alf that comes riding out of the waves, but there could be something lying in wait for you,” he said simply, paddling his feet in the water. “Perhaps I should wake it up. It won’t have been seen very often by a woman of your beauty.”
She was going to call out a response-but then she felt a movement by her right foot. She could not hold back the scream. Rodario stopped splashing. “There’s something there!”
“Now you’re trying to trick me,” he said with a mischiev ous smile.
“No, I…” Something thin and long wrapped itself around her right leg, tightening its grip. Coira stared under the water in horror but could not make anything out. There were too many bubbles. Then she was pulled downwards. She held out her arms to Rodario. “Pull me out! Quick!” She was frightened now.
Rodario could see from her expression that she was not joking. He grabbed her fingers and pulled. He was getting nowhere. He tugged again.
“Wait!” He got a foothold against the rock. Now he had a strong enough hold to heave the maga out of the water. At that moment he had no eyes for her breasts and her slender body. He saw something clinging to her leg that looked like a white tentacle. It let go of its victim and Coira shot out of the water as Rodario pulled her hard.
Rodario fell over backwards and the maga landed full length on top of him. She had dark-red lines along her leg but no injuries. She was furious and resentful. “That was all your fault! You made that thing grab me!”
“It was your own idea,” he said defensively. “How was I to know the pool would have the power to make your thoughts come true?” In one hand he held something made of leather.
“You said the land was enchanted! You could have worked it out for yourself!” Coira had talked herself into a fury, even if some of it was put on for his benefit. Because she was naked she felt she ought to stay where she was, so as not to show him even more of herself. Even more than he had already seen. “What if it comes out?”
“But you can detect magic, can’t you?”
Coira opened her mouth to give some sharp retort. Then their eyes met. And melted. Their bodies exchanged warmth and fanned the inner fires that poets and bards have so often sung about. Neither was able to resist a surge of passion as their lips touched, and they kissed tenderly.
And again.
And once more.
“Your glove, my queen,” said Rodario croakily, his feelings getting the better of him. He held the leather item out to her. “It came off your arm when I pulled you out of the water.”
Without thinking she snatched for it-and Rodario caught sight of her right forearm. The daze of happiness on his face was wiped away as if he’d been given a smack in the face. From the elbow down the arm was transparent and glassy in places, while other parts were raw flesh, showing muscles and tendons and veins, under a see-through layer of skin. “Oh, ye gods!” he stammered. “What a ghastly…”
Coira sprang up with a sob, grabbed her clothes and ran off.
Ireheart sat next to Tungdil at the campfire, where they were cooking meat, bread and vegetables on little spits. “What a shame we’ve got no more cheese,” he said.
“I can still remember the stink of it!” retorted Tungdil, who had taken off his helmet, gauntlets and greaves. “Very well indeed. Trying to forget.” He tasted the meat, which had been hopping through the fields half an hour earlier in the form of a rabbit. “I prefer this.”
Ireheart was giving his ration a more critical inspection.
Tungdil finished chewing. “What’s the matter? Doesn’t it smell bad enough?”
He turned and twiddled the spit as if looking for something wrong with it.
“Do you think it might have absorbed some of the magic?”
“What magic?”
“How should I know?” Ireheart snapped. “If it ate a… flower that one of the famuli had modified?”
“Are you starting to believe your own fairy tales? Or is this some myth put about by our young Rodario?” Tungdil went on eating, unconcerned.
“It’s just what they’re all saying.” He looked around. “Where’s he got to, anyway?”
“He’ll be wherever Coira’s disappeared to.” Tungdil pointed over to the bushes.
“Aha!” was Ireheart’s grinned, rather than spoken, comment.
“Gone for a swim. Not to have it off. The Zhadar are keeping an eye on them, Barskalin tells me. They’ll be safe enough from attack.”
Ireheart put the piece of roast rabbit down. “So it’s true.”
Tungdil sighed. “What do you mean-so it’s true?”
“Magic!”
“No, not magic, by all that’s unholy!” Tungdil said. “I said attacks! Wild animals or unfriendly forest-dwellers.” He slammed his hand down on the ground. “There isn’t any magic here. And there aren’t any famuli here either. Never have been. The land is safe and the rabbits are especially safe.”