Page 37 of The Midnight Arrow

“You should rest, Lorik,” I said. “Your infection was just?—”

“I’m fine, Marion,” he told me. “I told you before. I’m stronger than I look. This wound will be gone by the end of the week, if not sooner, and it’ll be like it never happened.”

And then he’ll be gone,I thought, a surprising wave of loneliness crashing down into me. There was no reason for him to stay. Now that the poison was out of his system and he’d already overcome the lingering infection, come morning, he would have no reason to be here.

“Then I’ll only see you at market days,” I couldn’t help but whisper.

Lorik’s arm tightened around my back, and he dragged his hand over my hip. “Is that what you want? Only on market days?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, I met his eyes. There was a sullenness in his tone, one that matched mine perfectly. “No, I don’t want that. Not only on market days. But I’ve never seen you in Rolara on other days. You’re like a ghost.”

“So are you,” he replied. But he didn’t tell me where he lived. He said nothing else about it. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Do you need permission?” I teased, hiding my disappointment.

“I suppose I could ask anyway and you could just tell me to fuck off,” he murmured.

“Yes, always a possibility,” I said, the edge of my lips curling before I sobered. “Ask.”

“Aysia,” Lorik said, and I tensed slightly. “Maybe it’s not so much a question. More of…I want to know you. I want to know everything about you, and she was a large part of your life. I’ve heard things in the village, idle gossip. I want to hear it from you.”

I nodded, swallowing. I pushed off his lap and went to my counter, filling a kettle with fresh water from the tap.

“Tea?” I asked.

“Sure.” His tone was at ease, relaxed, like we’d done this a million times. I knew he could sense I wasn’t running away, but I just needed to speak about Aysia in my own way.

I plopped the kettle on the hook over the fire in the hearth and added another log, sparks flying. Straightening, I looked down into the flames and crossed my arms over my chest as I waited for it to boil.

“Correl’s orphanage, as I’m sure you know, was not a wonderful place to grow up,” I told him.

“I’ve heard the stories. It burned down, didn’t it? Correl died in the fire,” Lorik said.

“That would have been Veras’s handiwork,” I confessed. “Though he’ll never admit it. He did it for Aysia, in his own twisted way. I think a part of her even liked it. Anyway…I grew up with a woman—an Allavari woman—who had taken me in since I was a baby. I never knew my parents. She was kind to me—at least I think so. I only have fond memories of her. But she died when I was seven, and I went to live at the orphanage. I was there about a year before Aysia came. She was so small then. Just a child.”

Lorik frowned. “You raised her?”

I nodded. “I was a mother and a sister to her. Maybe that’s why I find it so hard to move on. To forgive. Because Iraisedher and I was no more than a child myself.”

Lorik cursed under his breath, soft and gentle.

“I was the eldest at Correl’s. I took care of many children, but with Aysia…our bond was always different. It was special. The others knew it. They would pick on her and I did what I could to protect her…but children can be cruel. She was alone a lot even though she had me. Correl would beat her with this strap when she didn’t come back by curfew. I would tend to her wounds, try to make her feel better.”

My throat tightened. After today, this was likely the last thing I wanted to talk about, but it felt good in its own way. Like picking off a scab that itched.

“We got older. We had all these plans. I would pledge myself to the Healers’ Guild when I was of age. I would take her when I left Correl’s, and she would apprentice under an artist so she could eventually pledge herself to the Artists’ Guild. But we would live together in a little cottage and have a home all our own where no one could hurt us again. And we would be free.”

The water in the kettle began to steam, and I took it from its holder, being careful not to burn myself. When I turned, I saw that Lorik had stood from his chair, a restless energy about him. He caught my wrist when I passed and took the kettle.

“Sit down,” he told me. Then he went to the cabinets, pulling out cups and silk satchels of dried tea leaves after I watched him rummage with endless curiosity. “Go on.”

He made us tea—naked in my kitchen—while I sunk down on the opposite chair, my back to the fire. Peek, I noticed, was sleeping, curled under the bench by the front door. Maybe he’d finally decided he trusted Lorik. His ears were relaxed, no longer perked, even in his slumber.

“And that’s what almost happened,” I continued, sighing, sliding my arms across the table, sweeping away unseen dust and playing with the edge of a thread I’d trimmed away from the spool. “I came of age. I left and took Aysia with me. I pledged myself to the Healers’ Guild, taking work where I could while studying beside them. Aysia got an apprenticeship. A few years later, Aysia came of age. And right when she was about to make her pledge…she met Veras. Then everything changed.”

“In what ways?” Lorik wondered, coming to the table with two mugfuls of steaming tea. The bitterness of the leaves perfumed the air, and I watched as he sat down in the opposite chair, sliding my cup across the wood table. His hand strayed close to my own, and he gave it a gentle caress, fluttering my belly, before pulling away. He leaned back in his chair, all warm, muscled flesh and a quizzical frown.

“I hardly ever saw her, for one,” I answered. “I think a part of me was jealous. He swept her off her feet, gave her anything she wanted. Their courtship was fast. Within a week of meeting, she was basically living with him on his estate. She stopped training under her artist, she decided to forgo the pledges for that particular year for the guild. All she talked about was Veras. She was in love. They both were,” I conceded.