“Actually, Mark and I can go with her,” Ohso offered, coming close enough to hear Alonnen’s words and to guess the rest. “There’s a gaming house between here and the westside we were thinking of visiting anyway, so we might as well just walk her to her friend’s place and hit it on the way back.”
Alonnen suppressed a sigh. “Set aside money for your suppers and breakfasts, and don’t bet anything more than what you actually carry. And don’t get caught cheating if you use . . .” He wiggled his fingers to indicate magic. “Try not to cheat at all.”
“Oh, c’mon,” Ohso joked. “How else am I going to retire into a castle of my very own? Join the flippin’ priesthood? That won’t work anymore, you know.”
Gabria’s mouth twitched into a smile, but it was a weak one. Sighing out loud, Alonnen flipped his hand at the trio. “Off with you, then—when dawn comes or when the storm stops, ascertain if the streets are passable, and be here within an hour of that. Report in by talker-box if it takes more than a day. Other than that, have a good night.”
Nodding in farewell, the pair departed to pick up Mark on their way out of the brothel. With a sigh, Alonnen closed the door. “Bloody hell . . .” He put his back to the door and leaned against it, eyeing Rexei. “How much did you hear?”
“Why is she afraid of me?” Rexei asked. Then winced, realizing it was a stupid question, given their whole culture.
Seeing her wince, Alonnen nodded. “Exactly. Gods. She doesn’t trust any of ’em. She won’t be the only one, either. I’d said a good sixty, seventy percent of most mages will look sideways at you, and a good chunk of the rest of the population will, too.”
“Yes, but I am a . . . one of them,” Rexei hedged, not quite willing to call herself a mage openly yet. “Anything I could believe into existence would by logic have to avoid all that holy manure we’ve been forced to swallow all these years. Guildra is not like that, because I, too, couldn’t stand the thought of it being like that.”
He reached up and rested his hand on her shoulder, giving it a supportive little squeeze. “I believe that, and you believe that . . . but some people, like Springreaver, just won’t believe it until it’s sunk into their very bones. And that can only take time to accomplish, Longshanks. Give ’er time. Spread the word of what Guildra stands for and what She stands against, and give it time.”
“Well . . . sorry to chase away your girl,” Rexei offered awkwardly.
Alonnen blinked at her. “My what?”
“You . . . and her aren’t . . . ?” she asked tentatively.
“What? Oh no,” he quickly denied. “Not in the least. I’m not her type, she’s not mine, and I haven’t dated anyone in a while. It’s not a good idea for the Guild Master to court anyone within his or her own guild anyway. At most, it’d be someone on the periphery, and Gabria’s been one of my close assistants for a few years now—inner-circle close, not intimate close,” he clarified.
“Oh.” She felt strangely relieved to hear that. Her face felt hot. Moving away from the door, she shrugged. “Well, I’m glad. I mean, that I didn’t interrupt any plans the two of you may have had. Third wheel on a motorhorse, and all that.”
She’s blushing? Alonnen thought. Why would she blush after I said it was alri—Oh. Grateful her back was to him, he felt his own face heat a little. Carefully not clearing his throat, for he didn’t want to sound awkward himself, he did his best to explain smoothly and simply his own reasons. “Well, as the Guild Master, it’s important not to take advantage and important not to seem to be taking advantage. There are rules and all that. But . . . when I was still a journeyman, apprenticed to the previous Guild Master . . .
“Well, what I thought was my first serious romance turned out to be a case of social climbing,” he stated wryly, wrinkling his nose. Rexei turned to look at him in inquiry. Alonnen nodded. “Yeah. Her name was Daralei, and she knew—everyone knew by then—that I was going to be the next Guardian of the Vortex, being the strongest in the Guild next to Millanei. Before that was settled, she was flirtin’ with one of the other two candidates. Storshei. He’s second-in-command of the dam works now. But back then, she glomped onto me, had my head spinning . . .”
“And?” Rexei asked, curious in spite of herself.
“He tried to convince me of what she was up to, then he went to Millanei, who contrived my ‘fall from grace,’” Alonnen said, giving her a lopsided smile. “Dara tried getting me reinstated. A little too hard. So, suspicious, I told her I was happy to let Storshei be the next Guardian . . . and so she started flirting with him on the sly. I caught her at it so it wasn’t just his word against hers, and Millanei kicked her outta the guild. Put her in Pistons far to the north.”
“I’m sorry you had to suffer that,” Rexei told him. She moved over to the couch and settled into the corner of it.
Following her, Alonnen claimed the other side. He pulled off his boots, then put a wool-covered foot on the cushions between them. “Better to find out before she leeched any real status, power, or wealth outta me. The next one . . . wasn’t a mage.”
“Next one?” Rexei raised her brows. “Uh . . . how old are you?”
“Thirty.”
Her brows rose. That was a bit older than she had expected. “Thirty? Well . . . I suppose you act it, but you look more like you’re twenty-five.”
He grinned at the compliment and doffed his cap to her. Literally, pulled it off with a bow of his upper body. “Thank you, thank you . . . my dad could get mistaken for a twenty-five-year-old at the age of forty-one. Good bones, and all that. I take after him in all but . . . well, in all but the nose. More like my granddaddy in that.”
The way he flicked up the tip of his longish nose with the side of one finger, teasing himself, made her chuckle and smile. “I’m not sure, since it’s been so long, but . . . I think I have my father’s chin. And his forehead. Everything in between was mum’s.”
Her gaze dipped down.
Not wanting her to grow sad, Alonnen changed the subject. “My mum calls me ‘Al,’ and some of the others, but I rather prefer my full name. A bit opposite—most children would rather their parents didn’t call them by their full name. That, and there are three other Alonnens in the Precinct. I know of at least seven people named Rexei between here and Gren Precinct to the west, two of them girls here in Heiastowne. But one of them likes to be called ‘Lani’ for some reason. She’s in the Bakers Guild. Do you have a nickname? Or did you?”
“No,” she admitted, after giving it a few moments of thought. “Not unless you count things like ‘sweetie’ and ‘kitten’ when I was very little.”
“I got saddled with ‘dumpling,’” Alonnen found himself confessing—and grinned as she burst out laughing, then quickly covered her mouth, blushing. “No, it’s okay. At least I’m not as round as one.” He looped his arm around his knee, staring off past her shoulder. “If Millanei hadn’t warned me, I wouldn’t have realized that working magic burns the body’s reserves as surely as working muscles. You won’t see many plump mages in and around the dam, unless they’re compulsive eaters.
“But, if you’re ever tasked with setting warding amulets, you’ll be set a diet of vegetables and greens to eat, not just things like potatoes, breads, and meat. We don’t do as much of that in the winter, though,” he said. “It’s hard to get fresh greens. The few books on magic we have all agree that fresh plant-based food is good for a mage, since that’s where magic comes from.”