Page 8 of The Gargoyle's Gift
“The money Caster gave those people. They’re getting their collateral back, right? So, what about the money?”
“Long gone, I assume. Used to buy food. Clothing. Candles.”
I shook my head, realizing I was speaking incompletely, my thoughts just as tangled as the chains. “No, of course, but where was Caster getting it? Why did he have so much available to him?”
Gaius grinned. I nearly fell over when he said, “You’re clever, healer. I’ll give you that.”
“Does that mean you know?”
“Yes.”
“And?” I prompted, becoming frustrated with his truncated responses.
“And it’s none of your business, Lovette. You shouldn’t even know about this. You shouldn’t have any idea who Caster was orthat he was recently—and justly—removed from existence. The source of his wealth is the least of your concerns.”
“But Idoknow,” I argued, sounding petulant even to my own ears. “I saw. Ihelped, for saints’ sake. So why not tell me? At least then you’d have someone to commiserate with about things. It’s not like I’m going to run off and gossip about it. I haven’t even told Imogen about that night.” And every single day had been a new test of my ability to keep the words to myself. Every time I saw my sister and we chatted about our day, I felt like my lungs might explode from keeping such important events to myself. Chances were good Imogen knew I was keeping something from her, but she was patient.
Also, I was kind of avoiding her. Mostly I only saw her at meals and for a quick hello here and there. It was all I could handle.
“The more you know, the more danger you’re in.” Gaius pinned me with a stare, and it was… soft? Almost warm. The frown on his mouth all but willed me to understand that he was doing this for my own good. It was not unlike the one my father or siblings wore in similar situations. Unfortunately for any of them, I hated being coddled.
“We’re all in danger most of the time. Humans can’t know about us yet rely on our help almost daily. There are demon hordes popping up randomly in and around the city. Sometimes, there are battles, fights from which many of our kin don’t return. Knowing where a human criminal got his funding seems fairly innocuous, all things considered,” I said with finality. I slid off the bed, setting the knot of chains back on the towel. He watched me carefully but said nothing in response. “They’re likely serving supper by now, and I’m starving. I plan to pick up some tools from the infirmary besides. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
To save myself any further embarrassment, and to keep him from rebutting my argument or doing something like asking menot to come back, I walked out the door as confidently as I’d entered. My heart burned as it hammered against my ribs, my pace nearly a jog as I passed the forge. I only slowed once I approached a stand of trees near the center of the conclave, my cheeks hot and my breath ragged as I pulled in deep gulps of air through my nose.
I’d spent a mostly peaceful afternoon with Gaius in his hut. I wanted to go back, and spend more time with him, even if he didn’t want to hold a conversation with me. I liked the way his house smelled, the way his powerful voice moved through me when he spoke. How he was content to hold space just as he was.
And I had no idea what to do with any of that.
Chapter 5
Gaius
The little golden-haired menace was in my hut again.
She had come like clockwork every day since that first one, carting more tools with her every single time. They never left with her, either, she simply found little drawers and boxes to fit them into. She’d also only leave me alone after having accomplished whatever it was she set her mind to for the day. Sometimes it was shortly after the evening meal, other times late into the night, her eyes squinted as she extracted the final length of a chain with a self-congratulatory cheer.
Lovette was carefully fitting herself into my life, piece by piece.
It gave me reflux.
She’d also found a way to keep me fed so we could continue working through Caster’s ridiculous backlog of items without me noticing what she was doing. She’d show up before midday with a basket full of sandwiches or some other kind of easy-to-grab lunch, along with plenty of fruit and cheese and enough ale to keep my cup full. The first couple of afternoons she’d left before supper, then I’d been stuck at a table across the meetinghouse from her, nothing more than a spectator as she laughed with her sister and several of the young stone kin men.
She was generous with them, freely giving her smiles, friendly touches. More than once her fingertips danced along one of their shoulders, pushing playfully, or examining some kind of mark on their skin. It should not have irritated me, but I found my arm and leg unreasonably itchy during these meals, and I drank double what I should have. I was not some insecure youth, but I also wondered why she was so free with her affection around them when she only ever sat across the room from me. It was beyond foolish and only made me want to drink more, so I couldn't think about it.
The next day, when she started mumbling about it being time to eat, instead of having her go off to the meetinghouse, I went to fetch a basket for us. To simplify things. So I could stretch my stiff leg and get some air that wasn’t saturated with citrus and lavender.
Besides, she was making excellent headway through the second tangled ball of necklaces, and I didn’t want to slow her progress. The sooner she was finished, the sooner she’d stop coming around.
The soft smile on her mouth when I returned to the hut with food had been a balm to part of me I hadn’t known was aching. It was ridiculously primal, craving the approval of a woman for the offering of food, but my whole body came alive under her silent praise. It took my breath away, in the same moment it made me unreasonably sour, because I knew I would want nothing more than to see that specific smile and praise out of her again and again.
The next day, the pattern repeated. And the next.
It took me five whole days to truly catch on. She was clever, and I was losing my resolve when it came to keeping myself distanced from her.
“Is there something wrong with your apartment?” I asked as she separated out three necklaces and hung them from somekind of peg contraption she’d proudly brought with her before returning to the bed.
“No, why?”
