Sons of Destiny Prequel Series 003 - The Shifter (30 page)

"You should've let me do that," he admonished, taking it from her and carrying it back himself. The heavy bowl threatened to slosh as he walked, making him admire her hidden strength and grace at having carried it so easily. Shifting his muscles slightly for balance, he smoothed out his walk, and poured a little water into the washing basin before putting the rinsing one back into its metal hoop on the stand. "It's easier for me to keep warm than you, you know."

Rolling her eyes, Solyn muttered a word. The rainwater soaking her body started to steam, evaporated by her warming spell. It also triggered an explosive sneeze from her shapeshifted lover. Biting back a giggle, Solyn took pity on him. "I'll go start the water boiling for maschen... and I'll be nice and cut you a couple of slices of greenvein, too."

"Thank you," Kenyen muttered, rubbing at his nose with his clean hand. "Remind me to keep some of that cheese on me at all times."

"Even when you're naked?" Solyn teased. He flicked water droplets at her for her impertinence before reaching for the softsoap pot. She squeaked in mock-fear and fled, giggling.

Several minutes later, both of them were still naked as they waited for their clothes to dry. Solyn, kneeling by the low table and the heating stand, finished whisking the maschen to an enchanted, mint-green froth. She studied the way it swirled and formed in the largest of the three tea bowls she had brought. All three were works of art, smooth conical curves fashioned from thin, green-glazed porcelain, all three from a tea bowl set gifted to her by one of the valley holding families in thanks for her modest but needed healing abilities.

Kenyen, assembling a makeshift meal of meat-filled pasties and slices of greenvein cheese on the scrap of cloth that had contained the pasties, didn't sneeze. He had already feasted on one slice, and its anti-allergen effects were already giving his sinuses respite.

"Well?" he finally prompted her.

"The clouds will be gone by this time tomorrow, then we'll have not quite a quarter turning of Brother Moon filled with bright, clear skies. After that... overcast, I think, but only lightly," Solyn judged, studying the mound in the center of the bowl and the thin rim of foamy bubbles clinging to the rim, before pouring it into the smaller bowls. "Enough to keep things relatively cool when the grain is ready to harvest. At least, for a day or two. Beyond that, I cannot see."

"At least you can see that far," he reminded her. Turning his own thoughts to the next few days, Kenyen shook his head. "I wish I knew whether or not those paper birds reached their targets. A heavy rain would be ideal for spiriting Traver away from those curs holding him. And days of clear skies means that 'Traver' will be expected to help with the harvest. No more accompanying you to the cheese caves, no more excuses for being alone..."

She smiled wryly. "Then we should make the most of it." Picking up one of the two smaller bowls, she offered it to him. "Here—for your first time, it's considered polite to lift the cup to Cora and thank Her for the maschen you are about to drink. Children aren't allowed to drink it, save on the holiest of occasions, but you're an adult. That won't offend you, will it? Being an outlander?"

"When in Correda, a Shifterai is expected to worship as the Corredai do," Kenyen countered politely. He lifted the bowl in both hands, since that was the way she had drunk from it the other day, and murmured, "My thanks to the Goddess Cora for this drink; may it honor Her when I partake in the ways of Her people."

"Well spoken," Solyn praised. She sipped from her own bowl at the same time he drank from his. The startled expression on his face at the first mouthful made her raise her brows.

Swallowing the drink, Kenyen eyed the remaining liquid. "I know you didn't sweeten this—I didn't
see
you sweeten this..." He sipped again, more cautiously. "It also isn't nearly as sweet as sugar or honey, but it doesn't taste quite like the tea I do know."

"It is both bitter, because it is tea and therefore naturally astringent," she enlightened him, "and sweet, because of the care in which the tender, young tea leaves are prepared." She drank more of her tea, then added, "We consider tea the metaphor for life. You get more out of your life when you're submerged in hot water and stirred, rather than if you just let everything steep in tepidness. And life itself can be quite bitter, but it also has many hidden moments of sweetness. It requires careful tending in order to grow and properly be used... and it can be quite stimulating."

"Stimulating?" he asked, draining the last of his maschen. She hadn't made a lot, but that was alright. "I know tea can make a man feel more alert."

"Maschen is tea refined. It stimulates the mind, the senses... the body," Solyn murmured, slanting a warm look at his bared flesh. "It gives one clarity to see what needs to be done, and the energy to go forth and seize it."

He didn't miss her innuendo. Chuckling, Kenyen set down his empty bowl and picked up one of the pasties in exchange. "You went forth and seized it without any tea. I wonder what drinking it will spur you to do."

She grinned. "Maybe you'll find out. And in greater detail, next time."

"And maybe my sense of honor says I
won't
," he countered mock-firmly. "What we did do was more than enough to qualify as stimulating."

Her good mood fell a little. "You don't want to do it again?"

Face heating, Kenyen gave her a pointed look. "I didn't say
that
. I just meant it won't go beyond that point." At the resumption of her grin, he added, "You look rather pleased by that thought."

"Well, it does imply we get to do it ag—
aaah!
" The bright white flash and ear-aching crack of another lightning strike lit up the cave tunnel, startling her mid-speech. Hands flinging up to cover her ears, she didn't realize what she had done until after the delicate bowl hit the hard stone floor with a matching, if quieter crack. She stared at the shattered pieces, heartbroken. "Ohhh... oh, no..."

Startled twice, once by the sudden attack of the storm and again by the loss of her teacup, Kenyen flinched at a second flare and rumble of too-close lightning. When the noise faded enough to hear, he set down his unbitten pastie and touched her elbow. "Are you all right?"

She nodded her head, then shook it slowly. "I just... That was the
first
gift I received as a Healer. A gift specifically for
me
, and not just something my mother passed to me." She flinched at a third flash and again at the accompanying thunder, but the timing between light and sound proved that part of the storm was moving away. Shifting forward, she started picking up the pieces, putting them on the low table. "I still have four more bowls at home, and I know five should be more than enough for my needs, but..."

"But it's a very lovely set, and it hurts to lose part of it," Kenyen agreed, shifting to help her. Their fingers met over one of the larger pieces. He lifted her hand to his lips. "I'm sorry it broke, Solyn."

His sympathy soothed some of her upset nerves. The fact that he cared she was upset meant a lot to her. Leaning into him, she kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Kenyen."

Together, they picked up the pieces. Kenyen hunted down even the smallest shards, since while he could toughen the skin of his soles and quickly heal cuts, her feet weren't so gifted. Settled into a little pile on the table, they still made her sad. On impulse, he tugged the scrap of linen over them, dragging the half-dozen pasties and bits of cheese.

"There. It's all safely hidden," he quipped, rearranging the baked dough to hide the lumps of broken pottery. "You can now forget about it. At least for a while."

The light, teasing words made her smile ruefully. "It's still there, I know it, but... yes, getting it out of my immediate sight does help, thank you."

A thought made him frown in worry. "Um... a broken tea bowl isn't going to offend your Goddess, is it?"

She chuckled. "No, it won't. Spilling the mascha might upset Her a little," Solyn teased, "but I drank it—
ack!
... Gods!" she swore as the next crack of lightning flashed down the winding length of the tunnel. The blue white flare was a stark contrast, even at this distance, to the yellow glow cast by the oil lamps around them. "Cora! When is this storm going to end?"

Somehow, that struck him as funny. Shoulders shaking, Kenyen tried to bite back his laughter. At her wary glare, he blurted out, "You just predicted when it would!"

Watching him quake with mirth, Solyn rolled her eyes. That made him laugh even harder, wheezing for breath. Blushing, she shoved at his shoulder, knocking him over, then followed him down. Her fingers dove for his ribs, intending to give him a
real
reason to giggle. Choking, he squirmed and fought back, seeking out her own sensitive spots. It didn't take long at all for the broken cup to be fully forgotten. Or the pasties, or the cheese, or even the storm still rumbling and raining away outside.

Ten

Something woke her. It wasn't the cool air chilling her backside, nor the soft drone of not-quite snores from the man she had snuggled up against for warmth. Despite the deep darkness surrounding her, Solyn knew she was still in the greenvein cave with Kenyen; she could smell him, male and compelling, along with faint hints of the things they had done to drop them into such sated slumber. As she stared, propped up on one elbow, she realized he must have swapped bodies at some point, for he wore Traver's broader shoulders, rounder face, and wavy hair.

I... can see him?
Blinking, she realized in the next moment the light was not only growing stronger, it was bobbing and swaying, brought in the form of a lantern.
My ring must have moved!
Whapping Kenyen, she hissed at him.
"Wake up! Someone's coming!"

Disoriented from the sudden jolt back to awareness, Kenyen took a moment to realize where he was, what he had been doing here, and why he was in a shifted body. He had barely enough time to do a mental pat down, making sure his body was in the proper Corredai shape before the source of the light came into view.

It was an oil lamp, crafted in the same glass-chimneyed style as all the others, and it was being carried through the subtle curves of the shelf-lined tunnel by none other than Ysander Mil Ben, the local blacksmith. Solyn's father.

Solyn squeaked, also recognizing the bearer of the lamp. Mortified, she buried herself against Kenyen's side and tried to twitch a fold of the blanket over her exposed rump. Her father raised his arm at the noise, then widened his eyes in shock, recognizing them as well. Or rather, the condition they were in. "Solyn!
Traver!
"

There wasn't time or cloth to spare to cover his own pelvic exposure, and he didn't dare shift fur. Clearing his throat, Kenyen lifted a hand slightly in acknowledgment and tried his best to be polite, despite the circumstances. "Milord Ysander."

He received a paternal glare for his efforts. "So your little brother Tellik was right about this. You've been... been...
waxing the cheese
, my best hammers! If that's what you've been calling it, you'd better find another euphemism—and with my little girl!"

"Father!"
It wasn't easy for her to snap the admonishment when she was doing her physical best to hide in the crack between the floor and Kenyen's side, but Solyn tried. "I'm a fully grown woman of twenty and two years. I can
wax the cheese
with whomever I like—and we
haven't
been, except for today. Tonight. Whenever it is."

"It's late evening, and your mother—and
his
kin—were worried when you didn't come back after the storm eased," Ysander growled. "I offered to come all the way down here, only to find you...
naked
!"

"Well, if you'll turn
around
, we'll get dressed," Solyn snapped back defensively, upset by the intrusion. "Our clothing was soaked by the storm just before we got here."

"Oh, I'm sure it was, and you just
had
to keep warm by huddling together while it dried," he muttered sarcastically. "I'm not stupid. I know what the two of you have been doing to
keep warm
."

Solyn blushed with mortification at the accusation, but before she could argue the point further, her father did turn his back on them, giving them a few moments of privacy. Scrambling to her feet, she snatched Traver's clothes off the shelves, tossing them at her shapeshifted lover, then grabbed her own. He struggled into the loose trousers favored by Corredai men, not bothering to don the undershorts first in his haste to get dressed. She did the same with her skirt.

The blacksmith, restless and impatient, glanced over at the low table containing the remnants of their meal. At some point in their twinings, the pair had eaten most of the pasties, all of the cheese, and shared water from the remaining, rinsed-out tea bowl, but it wasn't the relatively clean cup that Ysander focused on. It was the slightly larger bowl, with its wooden whisk and the half-empty vial of maschen powder, that caught his eye. Blatantly caught it, for he crossed to the table in two strides, snatched up the vial for a squint at the contents in the light of his lamp, and whirled to face the shapechanged young man.