1st Draft Fridays - A Fistful of Deception: Book #4, Chronicles of Marsdenfel

Year 253 of the Bynding - Pardyam - as autumn turns to winter, part VI

A/N: I hope today's update is good. I feel too cruddy and cranky to judge it accurately. (Variety of reasons—allergies, illness, a car that has decided not to start, etc. If you want to help, please consider reviewing my for-sale stories on vendors, if you haven't done so already, and/or spreading the word about my stories and upcoming releases if you don't already do so. I have a sci-fi novelette coming out Tuesday [Twice Bold, by Cara Lee].)

Folks seemed to like the early post last week, and today's post seems to be done, so I'm going ahead and posting it "early"—Thursday night my time, while it's already middle of the day Friday on the other side of the world.)

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Iluka’s wards are up and running strong—or so I assume, since I asked if she’d reinforced the wards and she said Zeke did them. I consider making some polite inquiries after how her life’s going, but she’s already twisting her hands, and me acting odd won’t help that.

She asks something in her native language.

I grimace. “I’m sorry, but I can’t understand Hinaj, right now.”

Iluka blinks a few times before she gathers herself. “I’ll fetch your tithe.”

Her seafarthen’s much improved from back when I first met her. “Thank you.”

She scurries off, to the cellar and safe I’m not supposed to know the combination to—a law of the Pardys Isles to protect mesnes from unscrupulous bosses who might be inclined to set up apparent ‘theft-and-suicides’, to slip money out from under the lawmen’s noses.

I’d find the law more annoying if it hadn’t been needed.

My stomach churns, half with nausea and half with unsatiated hunger, and my throat feels scratchy and sore. I didn’t eat enough, and I’ve been using too much magic. If I’m not careful, I’ll end up spending another several days unconscious while Aldrik rehydrates me.

Trusting Iluka’s wards—which surround the building and again her rooms specifically—I lean back in a chair and close my eyes. With the unfamiliar woman sharing my room, I’m going to sleep poorly, even if she’s only a mage. Her two affinities match mine, so it’ll produce wariness of a different sort than the one that stems from someone at the same Bridge that I’m on, but danger is danger.

I’d sleep better if I shared with Aldrik.

No. Only a fool puts herself in avoidable situations that are beyond what she can handle.

I wrap my arms around myself, around my stomach, and pray to the Creator for some relief. Nine months isn’t long, in the grand scheme of life, but with everything else going on, right now… I fear it’s going to be the death of all of us—the baby, Aldrik, his brother, his sister-in-law, his son, my cousins…

My grandson.

Why did Berthen send the high protector and Xhey to me? I gave him a list of various contacts and caches he could use, if he needed them. Did he actually send them so I’d have fodder to bring to the slave auctions, or am I projecting my father’s tactics onto him?

Wet cold swipes against one of my hands, and I open my eyes to see Iluka’s little dog, wagging his bushy tail furiously and stretching with his forepaws against the chair. His ears angle forward as he licks my hand. I pick him up and settle him in my lap, one hand in front of his face for easy licking, and the other hand rubs his temples and scratches his neck.

We’re seated like that when Iluka comes back in, nearly bent under the weight of the bag she carries. She pauses just inside the doorway as I pause my petting at the sight of the bag.