“What makes you think I never visited?”
Because I never saw a peregrine falcon on the grounds of Carendale. I searched for that bird every time I went outside. I found myself watching the sky for peregrines still. “I assume if you’d come for a visit, you would have spoken to me.”
Ronan’s blue eyes looked black in the low light, brooding at my accusation. He pressed his lips together and remained silent. He didn’t answer because he couldn’t. He hadn’t come.
“Goodnight, Mage Warison.” By his own admission, he was no longer Ronan. I needed to remember that.
I turned and strode back to the castle. This time he didn’t stop me.
CHAPTER 14
Once in my room, I washed my neck and wrists with trembling hands, washed everywhere I’d dabbed perfume that morning. Ronan was Warison. I felt sick. His identity shouldn’t have mattered. I owed Ronan nothing.
No, that wasn’t right. He’d given me a wizard’s mark. He’d saved me from Wolfson’s beast. He’d removed my scars. I owed him everything.
I moaned and scrubbed my skin harder. I couldn’t let old loyalties prevent me from carrying out my mission. Someone had to fight for the servant class. The renegades were depending on me. Ronan and I were on opposite sides of a revolution. That was all. Wizards were my enemies. I’d known this from the moment Wolfson nearly fed me to his beast. This was the way things had to be.
If I believed taking Ronan’s mark would destroy mine, I’d be justified in abandoning the mission, but I doubted this was the case. Ronan had grafted his mark into me the way one grafted branches from one tree to another. A branch once transplanted wasn’t affected by the health of the original tree. The felling of one tree would have no effect on the other.
With red, raw marks stinging my wrists, I uttered the incantation for invisibility and went outside again. I still had tasks to complete, and the night was getting late. I strode around the castle’s side until I located the wizards’ wing. A lattice of metal bars covered the glass windows there. No entrance could be had that way.
I trudged back around the castle toward the guest stables. Tomorrow night would be filled with slashing at snakes who tried to strike me. The wizards must keep an antidote for the venom in their rooms, but if I were bitten, I’d have a hard time explaining why I was attempting to sneak into their chambers during the middle of the night.
The stables were sprawling buildings. Their beautifully arched stone doors were probably more expensive than Paxworth’s entire manor house. Inside the guest stable, the floors were clean and the stalls roomy. The smells were the same, though. Hay and horses.
I’d hoped to find Alaric alone. He knew I was coming tonight, but being a groomsman had its tasks, and he couldn’t do anything to draw suspicion to himself, like stand about outside, waiting for me. I’d told him to go about his business, and I would let him know when I arrived.
Instead of being anywhere of convenience, Alaric stood at the far end of the stalls with two other men. One was about his age, the other a score older. The men were talking and drinking from chipped wooden cups. Alaric held one as well, but I knew he wasn’t drinking anything tonight, not when he needed to stay alert.
I made my silent way across the stables. A couple of horses looked in my direction. Even with scrubbed hands and neck, they could smell a human passing by. I padded over and stood behind Alaric. Either I’d gotten all the perfume off, or he wasn’t nearly as observant as Ronan. He gave no indication hesuspected anyone was around. I blew a puff of breath across his neck. That should let him know I was nearby.
He did nothing.
I waited, then leaned closer and blew another puff.
He slapped his neck in irritation. “Blasted flies. Don’t they ever sleep?”
We really should have devised a signal of some sort for this meeting. I ran a finger across the back of the nape of his neck.
He startled and spun around. Not subtle. His eyes scanned the darkness, then went still. He understood.
“What’s wrong?” the older man asked.
“Just searching for that fly.” He made a swatting motion. “You can catch them if you’re fast enough.”
The younger man snorted. “How can a groomsman be so bothered by flies?”
The two men went on to speculate, in a vulgar manner, what kind of manure the horses at Paxworth produced.
I headed away from them even before Alaric excused himself to use the outhouse. When he emerged from the stables, I took his elbow to point him in the direction of the grazing pasture. Going to the outhouse might have been a better location should anyone look for him, but I couldn’t abide the smell or the flies.
Alaric rubbed his neck where I’d run my finger along it. “You shouldn’t have touched me like that. It was like having someone walk over your grave.”
“I may have already done that too.” I let go of his elbow and kept pace beside him. “Who knows where you’ll be buried.”
“Such cheery thoughts. You’ve the dagger with you?”
“Do you want me to place it in your hand?”