Dance of Thieves (Dance of Thieves 1) - Page 86

I reached down and took the bowl from his lap and set it aside, then grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Her name is Jurga. Did you see her weeping today? It was with gratitude for what you Ballengers have done.”

He yanked his hand loose. “I already told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let me finish my dinner in peace.”

We both looked at his empty bowl.

“Hello.”

Jurga had come up behind us.

Perhaps seeing me talking to Gunner had given her courage to do the same. I wasn’t sure, but Gunner calmed, shifting awkwardly on his feet, and I stepped away, leaving the finer points of introduction to the two of them.

Now I turned my attention to another Ballenger.

I walked over to one of the older Vendan boys testing notes on a flute. I asked him if he knew “Wolf Moon,” a common Fenlander song that Synové sometimes hummed. He did, and when he started playing the first tentative notes, I ambled over to Jase, still deep in conversation with Mason and Titus, and I curtsied in front of him, quickly getting their attention. “We never got to dance last night, Patrei. Would now be a good time?”

He looked at me uncertainly. “What about your ankle?”

“I’ve ridden for hours, dug up a barrel of parsnips and potatoes, and helped unload two wagons today, and now you’re worried about my ankle? Maybe it is your delicate feet that are too weary? Are you trying to get out of this dance, Patrei? Just say so and I’ll find someone else to—”

Jase was on his feet, his arm sliding around me, pulling me to the center of the Ballenger-Vendan divide. The truth was my ankle was still tender, but Jase seemed to sense this in spite of my protest, and he limited our dancing to gentle swaying.

“I think this is the least we can do to warm the chill between these two camps,” I said.

“So this is all for show?”

“What do you think?”

“I think I don’t care anymore, as long as you’re in my arms.”

The tune was slow and dreamy, the notes gliding through the air like birds heading home through a dusky sky to roost. Jase pulled me closer, his lips resting against my temple. “Everyone’s watching,” he whispered.

“That is entirely the point.”

“Not entirely.” His mouth edged closer to my lips.

The question of whether it was a show was swept aside, forgotten. There may have been other secrets between us, but this much was true and honest—I wanted to be in his arms, and he wanted to be in mine.

Maybe that was enough.

Maybe moments like this were all the truth we could expect to get from the world. I held on to it as if it were.

“Last time we danced we were knee deep in grass,” I said.

“And now there’s not even a chain between us,” Jase whispered.

“Maybe we don’t need one anymore.” We were in the wilderness again, and it felt easy and natural to allow ourselves to slip through a hole that was familiar.

I had an awareness of others joining us, but my eyes were locked on Jase’s and his on mine, and as I heard more feet shuffling, others dancing around us, I wondered if they had fallen through that same hole with us, and I wondered if, this time, we would be able to make it last.

* * *

Tell me a riddle, Kazi.

Jase had seen me, restless, walking, organizing supplies that were already ordered. Everyone else was asleep on their bedrolls. He came up behind me, his hands circling my waist. “I can’t sleep either,” he said. His lips grazed my neck, and he whispered, “Tell me a riddle, Kazi.”

We laid out a blanket on a bed of grass, the stars of Hetisha’s Chariot, Eagle’s Nest, and Thieves’ Gold lighting our way, far from everyone else.

I settled in next to him, laying my head in the crook of his shoulder, his arm wrapping around me, pulling me close.

Tags: Mary E. Pearson Dance of Thieves Fantasy
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