Spellbinder
Page 27
Even as she asked, the questions didn’t ring true. If he was so afraid of being punished, he would never have helped her in the first place.
But she had to try to figure this out. She had to get a better understanding of what was really going on around her if she was going to have any hope of getting out of here. Besides, not knowing anything was driving her crazy.
This time when he said her name, it was through gritted teeth. “Sidonie!”
Blindly she reached out. Her fingers caught on the folds of his shirt as it pulled tight across his chest. She fisted both hands in the material.
“Can’t, you said,” she pressed. “Not won’t. You said you were constrained. What does that mean?”
She felt the tension thrumming through his long body. “I am. Unable. To tell you.”
Again, her hearing was all she had to rely on, and his voice hitched on the words in a way they never had before.
Unable. Can’t. Not won’t. Constrained.
Those were all his words, not hers.
And also, there had been this:
I know all too well what a rape of the will magic can be to those who don’t consent to it.
She whispered, “Are you under some kind of magic compulsion?”
His hands circled her wrists in a bruising hold, but he didn’t answer.
He didn’t deny it either.
Her heart pounded. Licking her lips, she asked, “Are you forbidden to talk about it?”
His fingers tightened painfully. Then he seemed to realize what he was doing, because his grip relaxed. But he didn’t deny it. His pulse drummed against her fingertips. His heart was pounding hard.
“And you’re forbidden to help any prisoners escape,” she said.
Again his hands tightened on her wrists, then loosened. Without using words, it was still unmistakably an affirmative.
She let go of his shirt and smoothed the material over his chest. “All right,” she whispered. “I think I’m beginning to get it. If they find out you’ve been helping me, they might order you to stop. And you would have to stop, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t have any choice.”
“Think further,” he replied softly. “If I’m ordered to hurt or kill you, I will. They must never know who helped you. Do you understand? They must never discover our connection. If you’re questioned, do everything you can to keep from giving them any information. Don’t lie—that would be the worst thing you could do—and you would have to tell them something, but think of ways to misdirect them. Practice those answers until they come out naturally and easily. Create your own version of truth, and stop trying to discover who I am.”
Her heart was hammering as hard as his. She swallowed and managed to reply, “Understood. It took me a while, but I get it now.”
His chest moved under her hands as he took a deep breath. “I’ve got to leave. I got here late, and I’ve stayed as long as I can.”
Her heart sank. Despite her doubts and fears, his presence was so vivid and comforting he pushed back the cold darkness while he was here. She could even feel his body warmth as they sat beside each other on the cot. The thought of him leaving again was almost unbearable.
In an attempt at lightness, she asked, “You sure you can’t accidentally leave the door unlocked when you go?”
That came out a lot more taut and desperate than she had meant for it to.
He cupped the side of her head. His touch was warm and gentle. “Believe me, if I could, I would.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. Biting her lip, she was grateful for the concealment of the darkness as she swiped it away. “Eh, well, had to ask.”
He stroked her hair once, a light, passing caress, and then he gathered up the canvas bag at their feet and stood.
Slipping off the cot as well, she followed him to the door. When he paused, she stumbled into him. As she felt him turn to face her, she stepped forward deliberately to wrap her arms around his waist.
She whispered, “I appreciate everything you’ve done, so very much. I especially appreciate that you’ve done it despite the danger to you.”
His body went rigid as she hugged him. Then, slowly, his arms came around her. As they tightened, she let her head rest against him for a moment.
She had already known he was bigger than she, but that was no surprise since most men were. Now, coming flush against him, she got a real sense of the size and breadth of his long body. He was tall and powerfully built. The chest under her cheek was broad and thick with muscle, and so were his biceps. Her head fit neatly underneath his chin.
A weight came down on her. She thought it must be his cheek.
“You’re welcome, Sidonie. After the guard brings your breakfast, try to get some sleep. I’ll be back as soon as I can after the evening round.”
As she gave him a quick squeeze, she felt an odd thickness underneath his shirt near his waist and ran her fingers lightly over it. It felt like a bandage, as if he had taped his ribs. She thought back to how she had struck him, and his response.
He had said he wasn’t well. It appeared he was injured in some way, and she had struck him there, twice. She felt a brief remorse then shoved it aside. At the time, she had believed she was fighting in self-defense.
Stepping back, she whispered, “See you tonight. Be careful.”
“Always.” He slipped out the door.
As she heard a small mechanical snick when he turned the lock, she put her hands on the door.
He might be forbidden to help any prisoners escape, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t escape on her own. If only she had some way to block the bolt from sliding into the hole in the frame when he locked the cell door.
If she was very quick, maybe she could slip something into the hole when he was coming or leaving. A big wad of chewing gum might do it, except she didn’t have any gum. All she had was the food he had left with her and the clothes she was wearing. And her shoes.
There would be seeds when she ate the cherries, but that seemed iffy. She could try shoving cherry seeds into the hole, but she would have to act very fast and they would probably fall out again.
There were also the rubber soles on her tennis shoes, but the shoes were constructed to carry her weight over almost any terrain for months, if not years. She had nothing with which to cut the rubber, and she doubted she could chew her way through a piece, even through the thinner section at the edge of her toes.
She could try knocking him out. She winced from that. It felt disloyal, especially as he had healed her and brought her food and water at some risk to himself. He was doing so much for her, and here she was contemplating an act of violence against him.
But she had to try to figure this out. She had to get a better understanding of what was really going on around her if she was going to have any hope of getting out of here. Besides, not knowing anything was driving her crazy.
This time when he said her name, it was through gritted teeth. “Sidonie!”
Blindly she reached out. Her fingers caught on the folds of his shirt as it pulled tight across his chest. She fisted both hands in the material.
“Can’t, you said,” she pressed. “Not won’t. You said you were constrained. What does that mean?”
She felt the tension thrumming through his long body. “I am. Unable. To tell you.”
Again, her hearing was all she had to rely on, and his voice hitched on the words in a way they never had before.
Unable. Can’t. Not won’t. Constrained.
Those were all his words, not hers.
And also, there had been this:
I know all too well what a rape of the will magic can be to those who don’t consent to it.
She whispered, “Are you under some kind of magic compulsion?”
His hands circled her wrists in a bruising hold, but he didn’t answer.
He didn’t deny it either.
Her heart pounded. Licking her lips, she asked, “Are you forbidden to talk about it?”
His fingers tightened painfully. Then he seemed to realize what he was doing, because his grip relaxed. But he didn’t deny it. His pulse drummed against her fingertips. His heart was pounding hard.
“And you’re forbidden to help any prisoners escape,” she said.
Again his hands tightened on her wrists, then loosened. Without using words, it was still unmistakably an affirmative.
She let go of his shirt and smoothed the material over his chest. “All right,” she whispered. “I think I’m beginning to get it. If they find out you’ve been helping me, they might order you to stop. And you would have to stop, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t have any choice.”
“Think further,” he replied softly. “If I’m ordered to hurt or kill you, I will. They must never know who helped you. Do you understand? They must never discover our connection. If you’re questioned, do everything you can to keep from giving them any information. Don’t lie—that would be the worst thing you could do—and you would have to tell them something, but think of ways to misdirect them. Practice those answers until they come out naturally and easily. Create your own version of truth, and stop trying to discover who I am.”
Her heart was hammering as hard as his. She swallowed and managed to reply, “Understood. It took me a while, but I get it now.”
His chest moved under her hands as he took a deep breath. “I’ve got to leave. I got here late, and I’ve stayed as long as I can.”
Her heart sank. Despite her doubts and fears, his presence was so vivid and comforting he pushed back the cold darkness while he was here. She could even feel his body warmth as they sat beside each other on the cot. The thought of him leaving again was almost unbearable.
In an attempt at lightness, she asked, “You sure you can’t accidentally leave the door unlocked when you go?”
That came out a lot more taut and desperate than she had meant for it to.
He cupped the side of her head. His touch was warm and gentle. “Believe me, if I could, I would.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. Biting her lip, she was grateful for the concealment of the darkness as she swiped it away. “Eh, well, had to ask.”
He stroked her hair once, a light, passing caress, and then he gathered up the canvas bag at their feet and stood.
Slipping off the cot as well, she followed him to the door. When he paused, she stumbled into him. As she felt him turn to face her, she stepped forward deliberately to wrap her arms around his waist.
She whispered, “I appreciate everything you’ve done, so very much. I especially appreciate that you’ve done it despite the danger to you.”
His body went rigid as she hugged him. Then, slowly, his arms came around her. As they tightened, she let her head rest against him for a moment.
She had already known he was bigger than she, but that was no surprise since most men were. Now, coming flush against him, she got a real sense of the size and breadth of his long body. He was tall and powerfully built. The chest under her cheek was broad and thick with muscle, and so were his biceps. Her head fit neatly underneath his chin.
A weight came down on her. She thought it must be his cheek.
“You’re welcome, Sidonie. After the guard brings your breakfast, try to get some sleep. I’ll be back as soon as I can after the evening round.”
As she gave him a quick squeeze, she felt an odd thickness underneath his shirt near his waist and ran her fingers lightly over it. It felt like a bandage, as if he had taped his ribs. She thought back to how she had struck him, and his response.
He had said he wasn’t well. It appeared he was injured in some way, and she had struck him there, twice. She felt a brief remorse then shoved it aside. At the time, she had believed she was fighting in self-defense.
Stepping back, she whispered, “See you tonight. Be careful.”
“Always.” He slipped out the door.
As she heard a small mechanical snick when he turned the lock, she put her hands on the door.
He might be forbidden to help any prisoners escape, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t escape on her own. If only she had some way to block the bolt from sliding into the hole in the frame when he locked the cell door.
If she was very quick, maybe she could slip something into the hole when he was coming or leaving. A big wad of chewing gum might do it, except she didn’t have any gum. All she had was the food he had left with her and the clothes she was wearing. And her shoes.
There would be seeds when she ate the cherries, but that seemed iffy. She could try shoving cherry seeds into the hole, but she would have to act very fast and they would probably fall out again.
There were also the rubber soles on her tennis shoes, but the shoes were constructed to carry her weight over almost any terrain for months, if not years. She had nothing with which to cut the rubber, and she doubted she could chew her way through a piece, even through the thinner section at the edge of her toes.
She could try knocking him out. She winced from that. It felt disloyal, especially as he had healed her and brought her food and water at some risk to himself. He was doing so much for her, and here she was contemplating an act of violence against him.
