could have pretended, but if she could read his thoughts … it was hopeless.
He sat up, folding his cloak closer about him. Tereza came to stand beside him. 'What did you and Elaine talk of?' She knelt to warm her hands before the fire.
Jonathan did not answer right away. He didn't want to tell his wife what a fool he was, though if anyone knew his frailties, it was Tereza. The wonder was that she stayed with him.
'Talk to me, Jonathan. She was crying when she left.'
'She asked me if I hated her for being a mage.'
'And you said yes?' Her voice was outraged.
He looked up at her, anger flaring through him. 'Of course not!'
'Then what happened?' Her face was already angry, frowning and suspicious.
'She read my thoughts. I can lie in words.
She stood up so abruptly her cloak trailed into the fire, sending sparks whirling skyward. She stalked around the fire like a caged beast, every movement etched with anger.
'And what did she say after she read your thoughts?'
'She said …' He could not say it. To say it out loud to Tereza would make it real. If he told anyone else, Elaine would leave, and he wouldn't have a chance to apologize, to beg her not to go.
'Jonathan,' she stood across the fire, hands on hips. The flames bathed her face in strong shadows, leaping light. 'What did she say?'
'I'll make it all right. I'll talk to her.'
'Jonathan. .' Tereza let her hands fall to her sides, cloak swinging closed. She stood there like a pillar of flame. 'She's going away, isn't she?'
Jonathan wanted to look away, to not see the accusation in her eyes, but he forced himself not to move, not to blink, not to flinch. He would always remember the disappointment on Tereza's face. The contempt.
'I told her she was as dear to me as a daughter.'
'But you couldn't hide your hatred of her magic.' She bit off each word, spitting it at him. He had never seen her so enraged, not at him. It frightened him.
'She knew I hated the magic. That wasn't what bothered her the most,' he said.
'What then?'
'It is the fact that we fear her powers. That is what she cannot tolerate.'
'We?'
'She said you were afraid of her after the night in the shed.'
Tereza glanced away, then back. The righteous anger slipped away from her face. 'She's right.'
'I know,' he said softly.
They stared at each other over the crackling fire. A branch broke with a sharp sound, settling farther into the fire. Sparks spilled upward into the dark. The sound of the flame was loud like voices whispering in the other room.
'What are we to do, Jonathan?'
He shook his head. 'Perhaps, we can ask the wizard for help.'
'You would do that, turn to a wizard on such a personal matter?' She looked surprised.
'To keep Elaine with us, I would do nearly anything.'
Tereza smiled, and something inside of Jonathan relaxed. He felt as if he'd been given a reprieve from a sentence of death. Tereza had forgiven him.
She walked around the fire to put her arms around his shoulders, resting her chin atop his head. 'If neither of us wants her to leave, surely she will stay.'
He said nothing, and it was nearly a lie, that silence. He had seen Elaine's face, felt her pull away from his arms. If she could read their thoughts, thoughts they could not control. . But he said nothing. He didn't want to fight with Tereza tonight. He needed her arms around him too much to risk it.
'Elaine asked if the elven healer could heal Calum.'
Tereza grew very still against him. He knew she was rolling the thought round in her mind. 'Could he truly save Calum?'
'He called the dead back, Tereza. I would believe him capable of anything.'
She slid to her knees, arms still around him. 'If he could save Calum … we must send him to Calum at once.'
'He lost an arm today, a grave wound. Do you think he is well enough to travel days back in the cold by himself, with just his own people?'
'We would go with him.'
'Calum gave us this task to perform. If the elf, Sil-vanus, cannot heal him, Cortton will be the last evil we ever fight at Calum's bidding. I cannot fail him now.'
'But if he can truly be cured?'
'We can tell Silvanus tomorrow about Calum's illness. He may not be able to cure a disease, especially a disease of old age.'
'My mother was years older than Calum, and she died quietly in her sleep. Old age does not have to end in such misery.'
He patted her hand. 'Good to hear.'
She smiled suddenly. 'You are not old.'
'I am no longer young.'
She hugged him tight. 'That is not the same as being old.'
He didn't argue; he didn't want to. Watching Calum's strong body being eaten away by pain and age had made Jonathan aware of his own mortality in a way that no battle ever had.
'We'll talk to Elaine tomorrow,' Tereza said.
He nodded. 'Yes, tomorrow.'
Tomorrow they would talk with Elaine. Tomorrow they would speak with the healer. Tomorrow, perhaps, Silvanus would tell them he could save Calum Songmaster. But even after what Jonathan had seen this day, he did not truly believe. It was as unreal as a dream. He mistrusted anything that promised to give him his heart's desire. Healing was still a form of magic. Magic often promised exactly what a person most wanted, then found a way to cheat him. He feared he might have his heart's desire as long as he didn't mind fiends feasting on his heart.
'Let's go to bed.' Tereza helped him stand. His knees were stiff from sitting so long in the cold, even with the fire so near. A few years ago the cold had not made his bones ache.
She kissed him gently on the cheek, as if she, too, could read his gloomy thoughts. 'It will all look better in the morning, Husband. I promise.'
He smiled and let her know he believed her. It was a lie. A lie that he told with his eyes. Perhaps if he practiced enough, he could fool Elaine as well. This reading his thoughts was harder. Perhaps the wizard would have a cure for that.
Could he really let a wizard, any wizard, work a spell on him? He did not think so. But he hoped so. For Elaine's sake, he hoped so.
«^»
SIXTEEN
Harkon Lukas watched the campsite. He stood wrapped in a wine-dark cloak. A matching hat swept round his head, a hat more suited for a ball than winter travel. White ostrich feathers fluttered on it, and the wind tugged at the feathers as if trying to steal them. His long hair blew in tangles across his face. He should have been noticeable standing among the winter-dark trees in his ridiculous hat.
Harkon had watched the camp since Konrad had stood watch. Neither Konrad nor Tereza had seen the tall figure moving in the darkness. Now Thordin stood watch, and somehow he didn't see Harkon either. It was good to rule the land. It gave a person certain. . abilities.
Harkon might even have loved his land of Kar-takass were he not trapped here. The country was too small to
