Smoke and Shadow: The Fireweaver, Book 1

Chapter 33. TRUE NORTH

CHAPTER 33. TRUE NORTH

"What am I thinking about right now?" she asked, as the boat rocked them gently. They had readied the boat as much as they could, now inside, down in the cabin, gazing up at the fading stars through the skylight in the low ceiling. Dimarrah reached a bare foot up to trace a lazy circle on it.

The almost-dawn sky was smoky topaz, cream tangerine, and dusty lilac; the moon a dissolved remnant of the night.

She was so sure he could read her thoughts about the compass, still around her neck.

He ran a hand through her hair, which was still slightly gritty with sand. "I think for once, Mo Feurlah, you can read mine."

My Heart. His voice was deep as the night, but soft as the rushing of the waves. Or the coming of the dawn. It set her heart to a pounding rhythm. Even a mortal man would hear it.

"I hate that you always know." That I cannot hide anything from you. She laid a hand over her chest, casting a gaze downward.

"I don't ever want you to hide things from me."

He reached over, pulled her arm away, placed it over his heart. 

Pulsebond, he explained, and then spoke aloud. "It can never be broken." 

Her eyes widened as she felt his; a slower beat, but steady, and deep. She took his hand back and settled it to her chest, and he held her, as though he savored the feel of her, the slightly broken rhythm of her breathing when he was near.

He glided his hand up, so slowly, up along her throat, and she felt her center flare with desire. He might have even moaned with her. She felt a shiver down to her toes; he felt it move through her too. She was breathless, and he had stopped, to watch her. But he moved his hand on up, along her jawline, his thumb grazing her lips.

She sought his mind with hers. A single plea. Come with me.

He searched her face as if to memorize it. "You know I cannot." She could feel the tautness of his arm around her.

"Why not?" Dimarrah's heart crushed. But of course she knew why.

"I will stay," he answered softly, his lips, his breath warm on her neck.

"On a dying planet?"

He tucked an errant curl behind her ear. He looked at the way her eyes sparkled against the dawn sky. She had never been more beautiful or more fierce to him than in that moment.

I will stay so there is a home for us when you return.

* * * 

"Haven't been out in twenty years," said Vane, coming up from below deck. Pipe in hand, he leaned back and propped his boots up on a crate. He squinted at the sun, gilding everything, even the city beyond the hills so that it glistened like a mirage. Far beyond the shore, you could still see the small round gleam of the city center dome.

"What have you not yet done?" Dimarrah said, turning toward him, shielding her eyes.

He sighed and put his hands behind his head. "When you've lived this long..."

Mona was down in the cabin, sulking over a second cup of tea, steeped with the leaves she'd made sure to pack along with everything else. Dimarrah still smiled when she thought back to earlier that morning, when Vane and Mona had arrived, laden with suitcases for the journey on Marna's back, the smaller huentas', and more in packs on their shoulders.

"What's all this?" Rhoke had snatched the reins as Mona dismounted from the smaller huentah. "I said essential provisions."

Mona fumbled with her purse and a silk scarf fell out of it. She stuffed it back in and scowled.