Page 59 of Minor Works of Meda

“Once we get the clothes, I wonder if there’s somewhere to bathe. I have a bad feeling I’m starting to smell.”

“That’s called a fact, not a feeling,” I grumbled. But instead of being shamed, Oraik only laughed.

Chapter 25

I decided I could use a bath as well. There might not be a good chance for one after I dragged Oraik away from Montay.

To the west of the village, a slow-moving river emptied out to the sea. We were pointed to it, and politely asked to keep below the foothills. I was glad for Montay’s forests. We easily located an overgrown twist in the river where we could both bathe without catching an eyeful of the other.

“I’ve never bathed outdoors before,” Oraik called. Then I heard a splash, followed by “Goddess, that’s cold!”

I rolled my eyes. It really wasn’t bad, but I suppose he was used to warm baths.

“You’ll get used to it,” I called back, lifting my arm to scrub under my armpit with half the bar of soap Oraik had bargained for.

In the span of three minutes, he’d managed to win clothes, soap, and the promise of a dance from the man Nikkos. I thought Nikkos had agreed to the latter without actually understanding what Oraik was asking, because the words had tumbled out of Oraik like river-rapids, as if homely Nikkos made him nervous in a way beautiful Cliantha had not. Still, I’d never met anyone so shameless about meeting strangers, as if years of longing for life and love and friendship had built up inside Oraik just like magic clinging to the Ward.

There was a flicker of spell-work in the air. And then:

“So… you alive?” Kalcedon said in my ear.

I screeched and spun, eyes darting across the bank. There was nobody else in the water with me. I saw my pile of folded clothes on the shore, next to the rocks and shrubbery. Kalcedon laughed directly in my ear.

“Kalcedon?” I snapped, but even though I was angry at him for startling me my voice still trembled.

“Meda?” That was a shout from Oraik, answering my scream. I ignored him; let the fool prince worry.

“Calm down, Meda,” Kalcedon muttered in my ear. “I take it you’re still breathing. Where are you?”

“You can’t see me, can you?” I covered my chest and glared at the tree in front of me just in case he could.

“Nope. Just a locator, and a speech spell.”

It was good he’d taken my hair, I admitted to myself. That had been clever.

“Are you alright?” I whispered.

“No, I’m bleeding out on the ground,” Kalcedon drawled. “Find your prince?”

“Yes. What happened?”

“I didn’t get there in time. Damn near burned out trying to or I’d have found you earlier. Where are you?”

“In Montay.”

“Meda? Are you alright? Answer me!” That was Oraik again, closer now.

“Where in Montay? I’ll come get you,” Kalcedon asked.

“Somewhere on the south shore, I think.”

Oraik burst through the brush, shirtless, his dark skin glistening with drops and rivulets of water. Technically he was pants-less, too, though he clutched his trousers over his front end for modesty. His hair was untied, the curls wetted down to tight dark waves. I sank deeper into the river.

“Why’d you scream? Did something bite you?” he asked, eyes searching for a threat and finding only me.

“I’m fine. Put your clothes back on,” I told him.

“What…? Who are you talking to?” Kalcedon wanted to know. It was eerie hearing him just there, like if I turned fast enough, I’d see his face. I’d never realized how it felt to be on the receiving end of a spell like this one.

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