I am continuing to submit the chapters, but they are not releasing chapter 4. Maybe there is just a delay. -H
Chapter 6
Rasmin had given her his ash cloak, wrapping it around her. They were still in the tower. The sorcerer was gone. She cried out in relief when Mihel opened his eyes, that intense blue. Nuë put her hands on his chest, beginning to cry. "Forgive me, Mihel."
Mihel's eyes shifted to her, roaming her face. His hand rose to her cheek, touching the wetness, stroking. "There's nothing to forgive," he said in that voice so deep it rumbled with an echo, the ache in her easing to hear it. "It was my fault."
"That's true," Rasmin agreed.
Mihel sat up quickly, Nuë moving, surprised. Mihel grimaced with the movement, his teeth coming up and his eyes finding his brother.
"I'm going to kill you," Mihel said to Rasmin, panting.
"I know," Rasmin said, opening drawers and spilling their contents, mixing them deliberately. He let a glass beaker fall to the floor, shattering. A jar followed it, a stench rising that he drew away from sharply. "But you're hurt and you can't catch me. You're going to have to wait a small time, brother."
"I thought he was better," she said, looking up at Rasmin.
"It was a deep wound," Rasmin said, his face almost as ashen as the cloak around her. "I don't have all my strength. The wards took it. He'll need time to finish healing. We'll go in a moment. I have to release the magic in these objects."
Rasmin was still walking around the room, destroying everything he found. Mihel reached for her, Nuë moving carefully, afraid to hurt him. He pulled her onto his lap, his arm behind her head, the cloak coming with her. Above them and across the room, Rasmin made a sound of disgust and dropped something, stepping on it. He threw a book into the fire, which flared. The carnage continued.
Mihel looked down at her, opening the cloak a little, his hand slipping in. She watched as the blue in his hand began to glow, touching her body.
"You should save your strength," she said, covering his hand with hers.
"Let me do this, Nuë," he said.
Everywhere his hands passed, the pain stopped. He touched her nipples, passing over her bottom, Nuë sighing with relief, all the stinging ache gone, cupping her sex. She felt him hardening under her, surprised, and frowned at him lightly.
Mihel shrugged one shoulder. "I missed you."
His hand stroked between her legs. She squirmed, glancing at Rasmin. Mihel's hand left her and he looked deeply into her eyes. She knew he was looking at her spirit. But she'd already decided before she'd done this. Her mistake would take nothing more away from them.
"That ugly, disgusting pervert," she told him, her chin raising. "That dog. He can't touch me inside. He ran from me like a coward."
"I can't believe he disappeared," Rasmin said irritably from across the room.
"I stabbed him," Nuë said. "Maybe he'll die, Rasmin."
"It's Luta," Rasmin said to her absently, breaking something else. "How is my brother?"
Nuë's eyes shifted to Mihel, but Mihel didn't say anything, didn't acknowledge that his brother had even spoken. She heard Rasmin--Luta--sigh.
"He's alive," she said.
Mihel's brother held up a thick bottle, the contents obscured. He threw it into the fire.
When they were ready, Rasmin--Luta--supported Mihel down the stairs. Nuë was anxious, people all around them and the brothers moving slow, both of them hurt. When they arrived at the bottom, she looked and they were gone.
"Can you find your way back to the public house, Nuë?" Rasmin--Luta--said, his voice raw. "We'll follow."
She was worried that Mihel hadn't said anything. Nuë pulled the hood of the ash cloak over her head. She walked down the streets, finding the right ones. People drew away, seeing the ash cloak, although it was too long and it dragged behind her. She bunched it in front, trying to hide that.
She snuck around the back of the public house when she found it, opening the door and waiting. She looked, going down the hall, finding their room. She drew the door open, waiting, and then she came in, locking it behind her.
Mihel appeared, sagging on his brother. Luta put him on the bed, staggering himself.
"What do you need?" Nuë said to him.
"Rest, little sister," Luta mumbled, falling into bed beside his brother. "We'll heal. We need time."
In a moment, both the brothers were still, so still that Nuë went to them. She sat next to Mihel, just looking at him. They had retrieved him. She finally got up and went to Luta. The ifrits were both breathing. Luta's burns were terrible. She dressed quietly and went to the pitcher, putting cool water on a rag, tending to Luta, ripping up one of his shirts and wrapping his arms, Luta never stirring. That night, she curled up on the floor to sleep.
In the morning, she left the room to go to the place where people here relieved themselves, disgusted again by the smell. She snuck out to the well, filling her canteen. Night came and they hadn't woken.
The next morning, the brothers still didn't wake. Nuë hadn't eaten the day before. She finally took money from Luta's purse, feeling guilty, but she didn't want to take gold where people could see it. She was anxious to leave for so long, not able to lock the door since they couldn't let her back in, but she needed to eat.
She slipped down the hall and into the main room. It was noisy, people staring at her, a lone Sidean woman. A man who was walking turned to follow beside her, saying something to her. She backed up and faced him, her hand on her knife, shaking her head. His eyebrows rose. He put his hands up, stepping away from her. Nuë moved on, watching him.
She went to the innkeeper, who was standing by the door. She pointed to the kitchen, making motions to her mouth, gesturing to the purse in her other hand. He nodded, signaling a woman. The woman returned with a cloth bag. Nuë counted out coins into the man's palm, going slowly, her eyes on his face. When he looked satisfied, she nodded her thanks.
She made it back to the room, going in quickly and locking the door. She opened the bag, her hands shaking. There was hard cheese, fresh bread. An apricot. Some kind of meat she gnawed on, her stomach grateful for it, drinking from her canteen. It was her only meal that day. That night, she curled up on the floor and slept again.
#
Nuë woke the following morning to a touch on her cheek. His eyes were that blue, intense, his face familiar and beautiful. She remembered what they'd done. He was here. Mihel leaned in, the kissing he did, touching his mouth with hers, straightening. He slowly smiled at her. She smiled back, feeling so light, reaching with her hand and touching his face.
"Don't go anywhere, beautiful incora. I'll be right back," Mihel said.
"Where are you going?" she said, catching his hand when he tried to rise.
"To kill my brother. I'll be right back."
"No," she said, putting her hands on him, grasping his shirt, pulling him back.
Mihel yielded, coming down again, removing her hands and taking them gently in his. "Don't feel bad. You can go so you don't have to watch, little incora, but don't go far. It's not safe in Heltas."
Nuë sat up, frowning at him. "What are you thinking?" she said sharply.
"What do you mean?" Mihel said, frowning back at her.
Both of them turned when Luta sat up, running his hand through his hair. Luta sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting to be killed, evidently. Nuë looked back at Mihel.
"You're going to kill Luta," she said, gesturing at Mihel's brother, "who saved me on from men who were going to do terrible things to me when I was trying to get to you? Who kept me safe the whole journey?"
"Who gave you to the sorcerer to hurt," Mihel said like she was crazy. "Have you forgotten what just happened?"
"What else was he supposed to do?" she said. "Do you know what my plan was? To knock that dog over the head with a rock by surprise and put my knife in him. How do you think that would have ended? You think I was going to stop? You think I was going to give up, not try? You have known me for hundreds of years. Am I going home? Am I saying to myself: 'Here is Mihel, trapped with a sorcerer because I betrayed him, but let me go take a bath in the river and maybe catch some fish to eat for my supper.' Does that seem right to you?"
"Don't try to tell me that was your plan--" Mihel began, his finger coming up and pointing at her, his voice loud and rumbling.
"Don't you shake your finger at me, ifrit!" she cried at him, outraged. "It would have been my plan if I'd thought of it. Luta didn't want to tell me. He knew you were going to be so angry at him, that you wouldn't forgive him. He knew it was the only way to free you and I told him that I would not be hurt in my spirit no matter what that dog did to me. And now you have this gift we have given you, me and your brother, your freedom. This brother who loves you so much that he risks everything for you. And I am unhurt because I want to be with you and I don't want that taken from us, and you want to kill the person who made this possible?"
"Yes," Mihel said, nodding.
Nuë shoved out of her blankets, going to her pack. She set it on the floor, putting things in it, her movements jerky. She didn't look at him, getting her boots.
"Don't get upset, little incora--" Mihel said, standing up.
"I don't like you anymore," she said, lacing her boot. "I'm leaving."
Mihel turned to Luta, gesturing at her. "Look what you've done," he said, turning back to her, picking up her pack and taking things out she had just put in. "What are you saying, my light? You can't go anywhere."
She stood and took her pack from him, shoving the things back inside. She sat again as he came and took her other boot and tossed it over by the bed. She got up and retrieved it as he took her pack from her again, dumping it out. "Am I your prisoner? Do you think you have me like a horse telling me to go this way and that way?"
