A Hint of Frost: Araneae Nation ( Book One) (14 page)

Suffocating heat weighted me in a crush of sizzling light as the veil descended.

Blind and strangled, I groped Rhys with sweaty palms from his thigh, up his side, to his shoulder, then his throat. I dug fingers in his collar, jerking him down as I stood in my stirrups.

Our mouths crashed with clumsy aim, born of my inexperience and desperation. Teeth clacked, lips split to season our first kiss with blood, but his attention was no longer in question. His hands traveled my arms, found my shoulders, tickled my sides, and then lifted me free of my saddle. Straddling Brun, I faced Rhys, our kiss unbroken, our chests heaving, my heart pounding.

When we broke apart, his taste sat fresh on my tongue, instantly familiar.

He rubbed his face in my hair. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Such an odd politeness after what we’d shared.

Long seconds passed as I waited for him to speak or set me back in my own saddle on my own mount, but he remained quiet, and his arms, already banded around me, tightened. I took his possessive silence to mean he intended to hold me a while longer. He’d gone quiet again, but he toyed with the windblown ends of my braided hair, the strain in his expression ebbing a bit.

His iron grip meant a crick in my neck if I continued staring up at him, waiting for a sign as to what caused his black mood. Wearied, I dared rest my cheek against his chest, the better to hear his muffled heartbeat climb. As he played with my hair, I toyed with the hem of his coat, working my fingers between the outer layer and his shirt. Tension ratcheted his spine straight.

“My fingers are cold,” I mumbled as heat from this side of the veil stifled me.

He kissed my temple. My words were far from the truth, but he didn’t call me on my lie.

Golden buttons winked in the sunlight cascading over my shoulder. My view of Rhys’s coat wore my interest thin hours ago. Leaning to my right, I stretched for Marron’s reins, but his fingers dug into my hips, a soundless request I stay. I sighed, bracing my forehead on his chest.

If many more miles passed this way, I would leap from Brun, heedless of where I landed. Saddles weren’t meant for two riders to sit face to face, and the hard knob of the horn rubbed my tailbone. Feeling had long since left my legs. Now my thighs hooked over his, my knees bent at his sides and my ankles crossed at the small of his back. When I shifted, his gaze stirred hotly.

“Did the Salticidae, by any chance, move Beltania to the other side of the Second World?”

Unexpected laughter vibrated through Rhys’s chest. His hand lifted, stroking down my hair to tangle at the end. He held on as if I was his lifeline and that braid his means of survival.

Shrill whistles drew an unladylike swear from me as I covered my ears. Did Vaughn know no other means of communication? His piercing alarm doubled, then tripled, rebounding.

I braced against Rhys and sat up taller. “Does this mean—are we there?”

His mouth pinched in a line so tight his lips whitened. I supposed that meant yes.

“Well, brother.” Vaughn’s voice carried from some distance. “You’re home.”

“What does he mean?” This was no more the Mimetidae clan home than Siciia was mine. “Rhys?” I cupped his cheeks and angled his face toward me. “I don’t understand.”

“Here.” He lifted me and turned me so my back pressed against his chest and the whole of Beltania spread before me. “Look there.” He pointed toward the serpentine curve of the river.

I think I whimpered. I was hard-pressed not to strip and plunge into the cool waters before securing the blessing of our hosts. I drew in a breath smelling of lush spices and flowers, clean water and warm sunshine. The Salticidae houses rose from the land, being made of packed mud bricks, as though the stacked homes were a natural extension of the earth. Wooden ladders leaned on walls and spanned the height of each floor. Hide doors flapped in the slow, hot breeze.

Ripples broke the river’s surface. Cotton-mouthed, I wanted to drink it dry. No, I’d rather wash than drink. Better to die clean than quenched. Straining my memory, I recalled the powdery scent of dayflower soap made here. How it left my skin silky while the delicate blue tint soothed.

“I suppose it would be rude if I bypassed the clan home and headed for the river?”

“If you’d like, I can speak with Sikyakookyang and Chinedu on your behalf. I could ask a clanswoman of theirs to accompany you.” Rhys rested his chin atop my head. “It’s your choice.”

Wistful desire to drop my duties in his lap and let him bear their weight tempted me.

“It’s my duty to secure the goodwill of our hosts.” We passed a worn trail snaking toward the river bend, and I sighed with longing. “It
is
my duty.” Though shucking it sorely tempted me.

His lips caressed my ear. “You’ve already said that.”

“I know,” I groused, leaning into him. His casual use of the maven and her paladin’s names, which I hadn’t remembered, occurred to me. “How familiar are you with these people?”

Vaughn had hinted at their closeness. Perhaps their clans had intermarried at some point.

Pain behind my breastbone pulled me upright in the saddle. Had Rhys spent much time here? Was this a homecoming as Vaughn claimed? Another thought, equally painful, presented itself. Had Rhys kept a lover here? If so, did she know about us? Oh, gods, what if I’d mistook his quiet for sadness? What if he were bringing home his future bride to meet his former lover?

What if he loved her still? Our binding was arranged. Our time spent together short. I had no hold on his heart, no claim to his affection. Was our relationship exclusive? I hadn’t asked. I foolishly assumed he came to me with no strings attached and never considered how he’d been scooped fresh from a battle and told he must bind himself to me within a matter of hours. He’d said himself he had no choice. I already knew his determination to wed me stemmed from duty.

The prospect of a lifetime spent in competition with the ghost of a lover he might have and a life he might love yet surrendered for me, for his clan, sickened me. I’d done this to him. I kept my questions trapped behind my teeth and crunched until I could swallow the bitter words.

“Lourdes?” This must be his turn to sound uncertain.

“Yes?”

“I hope whatever time we spend here won’t alter your opinion of me.” He added, “Of us.”

The grassy fields spiked with mud-brown houses wavered in my vision.
It must be the heat
. “You have my regard.” Dagger-sharp pain sank claws in my chest. “That won’t change.”

His cheek slid against mine, and the time for confessions passed. The city closed around us. People in the streets waved to Rhys and me. Even Vaughn earned a few bowed heads. One bold child rushed forward and ran a hand through Marron’s fur. She snorted in his direction, and he scurried away, grinning and holding his hand high as he chattered to his group of friends.

Ursus were a rare sight so far south. At least, the
ursus arctos
my family favored were, with their thick fur and, if you asked their handlers, boundless appetites. Not a good match for clans living in extreme heat and with little native prey large enough to fill ursine bellies.

Vaughn had made his gruesome point earlier. An ursus could either be a faithful mount or a foolish rider’s death sentence. They were carnivores at heart. They might nibble nuts and tubers, but they required protein when forced to carry a rider and made to travel from their home ranges.

Fortunate for us all, these ursus were well-mannered and patient, trusting us to feed them.

Still, the crowd parted around us as we traveled the main street. I turned toward Rhys, about to ask if the Salticidae had means to feed three ursus, when a silver shine caught my eye. A wrinkled male, hunched over a carved walking stick, made his way from the bottom doorway of a mud-brick home. I wondered if his age or his jewelry caused his spine to bend double.

Without warning, Rhys slid from Brun and jogged toward the elder, grabbing the male’s elbow and calling out in a language I placed as being the local dialect. My mouth turned dry as dust twists swirling in the streets. Who had taught that rugged mouth to form those fluid words?

Spiky petals of a green flower unfurled in my chest. I named it jealousy.

The flower’s roots dug into my heart when a slender female with caramel-colored skin and a straight fall of blue-black hair rushed from the same doorway the elder had exited. Her smile was a bright flash of white that Rhys returned. They exchanged more flowing words, and her eyes widened as they panned my face. Sunlight caught the glint of perfect tears formed on her elegant cheeks. Was this
her
? All of Vaughn’s hints had been laid to carry me to this point.

Swiping away tears, she flung her arms around his throat and buried her face in his neck.

Dull pain in my chest forced my gaze upward, where I paid attention to the shapes clouds made. Vaughn’s attention lit on me. I hadn’t seen him and I hadn’t looked, but I
felt
his interest. At least one of the three of us was enjoying this awkward meeting. I was…I don’t know, empty?

“Lourdes.”

My chin lifted another notch. Pride kept my spine straight and shoulders back. Both failed me when Rhys’s large palm settled on my thigh. Blinking dust from my eyes, I managed to glance down without moisture spilling over my cheeks. I was dry-eyed and thankful for it.

“There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.” He offered me a hand.

I ignored him and slid to the ground, straightening my layers of suffocating clothes.

Between Rhys and the beautiful Salticidae female, the elder chuckled. His eyes might have once been the fresh green of summer grasses. His white head of hair was divided by two fading streaks of black. His wrinkled hands were the exact color of Rhys’s darkly tanned skin.

“Lourdes, Maven of the Araneidae, this is Masikookyang, the
povosqa
of the Salticidae clan.”

I tried placing the term, but failed. Perhaps it was another word for elder? The deference Rhys paid Masikookyang qualified him for that distinction with ease.

Masikookyang pitched forward as he extended his hand, and I reached for his elbow, but Rhys and the female hoisted him up and helped him regain his balance. He snarled something low at them.

To me, he said, “The two gods have blessed your union with Kookyangwhoya.” He presented his cheek, and I bent to press my lips to his weathered skin. “It is a good match.”

“Thank you.” Poor dear, he must have confused Rhys with one of his clansmen.

Muttering something in the same foreign tongue, the female blushed my way. “Forgive Old Father. He means no disrespect.” She hesitated. “I am Kokyangwmana. You may call me Mana if it pleases you. I am Old Father’s apprentice in the spirit arts.”

A faded memory nudged the edges of my mind, but it was too indistinct to be useful. “Spirit arts?”

Rhys answered for her. “The Salticidae believe that if you heal the spirit, the body will also mend. Old Father and Mana are spirit walkers.”

I struggled to form a polite response. “I see.”

“Our ways are our own.” Mana’s laugh put me at ease. “I have no doubt Hoya will enlighten you in time.”

“Will he now?” I measured Rhys’s silence, curious as to what Mana meant. I could conceive of no two clans more opposite than the Mimetidae and the Salticidae. Their diets and temperaments were polar opposites, so their beliefs must be as well. What sort of enlightenment did he have to offer? And what use was such insight to either of us?

“Mana.” His voice rang with warning. Though I was intrigued, his surly mood invited no questions.

“You said you were bound.” Her green eyes flitted between me and Rhys. “So I assumed…”

“What is it, Mana?” I prompted her when Rhys made no move to engage her.

“I overstepped my bounds. I apologize.” She cleared her throat. “Your partisan said you wish to bathe? I have nothing as fine as the clothes you are wearing, but I offer my best.”

I frowned as they avoided eye contact with one another, and with me. When neither elaborated, I stifled my hurt and assured myself their confidences didn’t matter. “Thank you, but I should meet with Sikyakookyang and Chinedu before relaxing. I wish to honor your clan heads as I expect travelers to honor mine.”

More color rose in her cheeks. “It is as you wish, Maven.”

I touched her arm. “You are being very kind.” Her kindness made it hard for me to dislike her. “I will accept your offer once I’ve done my duties to your maven and her paladin.”

“Allow me a moment to settle Old Father.” She looped her arm through his. “Then I will take you to my aunt.”

Of course she would have beauty as well as influence.
I managed a “Thank you.”

Rhys helped Mana shuffle Old Father to the doorway he’d exited while I leaned on Brun. Warm fur cushioned my back. His annoyed grunts comforted as I watched the two of them, so dark and perfectly matched, leave me on the street as they dipped inside a darkened doorway.

I rubbed my calloused fingers and wondered if hers were made soft by dayflower soap.

“Maven, would you follow me?” Mana rested her hand on Rhys’s forearm.

For a moment, I thought he’d meant to come for me, escort me where we were headed, but her touch stopped him in his tracks.

“Of course.” I ignored the soft pat she gave him before turning toward the nearest ladder and indicating I should climb. I shook my head. “After you.”

“I will do as you wish, Maven.” She climbed with grace I doubted I’d manage.

Gripping the ladder, I allowed myself a second of peace, then did my best to keep my eyes slanted skyward. The farther my feet hung from the ground, the harder it became to release my hands from their hold on the ladder. It was as if someone had honeyed each rung, and I stuck.

“I won’t let you fall.” Rhys’s voice drifted up to me.

“It’s not the fall that worries me.” Compact earth and a hard landing, those concerned me.

He laughed and spread his palm across the small of my back. Heat radiated from his fingers, the strength in them assuring me no harm would come to me while he remained near.