Cold Magic (Spiritwalker #1)

Cold Magic (Spiritwalker #1) Page 174

Bee’s expression was as blank as uncut stone, a smooth face that might conceal any object or emotion beneath if only a carver knew how to release what lay hidden within. “You really don’t understand, do you? That’s why they’re buying the house. To keep me here, in a familiar, comfortable cage. Don’t you see it? By sacrificing Cat, you didn’t save me. All you did was sacrifice everything she thought you and Mama meant to her.”

“I’ve asked for her forgiveness. Cat, do you forgive me?”

I searched for a voice and found one, although I was not sure I recognized it as mine. “Did she ever tell you who sired me?”

He shook his head with a grimace. “She never told anyone anything. To think of all that valuable information she must have had, for she knew Camjiata well, you know. And yet she refused to tell us anything, even though we could have sold that information and made our lives a cursed sight easier. Still.” He broached the words as if they were painful. “I suppose she felt loyalty of a sort, even to a commander she had deserted. There’s something commendable in that.”

I could not bear to look at him. Instead, I spoke to the wall. “I know you did what you thought you had to do. I know you did it out of concern for Bee, and you may even regret the pain it has caused me. But my parents would not have drowned if you hadn’t driven them away. I’m not ready to forgive that yet.”

“How like Daniel you are,” he muttered. “So intransigent.”

“Is she like Uncle Daniel, or not like him, then?” Bee’s gaze had a regal scorn that surprised even me. She looked so calm and spoke so evenly that it was difficult to see how furious she actually was. “You cannot have it both ways. You betrayed not just Cat, not just your brother and my aunt Tara, but also me. You betrayed the Barahal daughters, all of us, and sons, too, the ones you never had. You betrayed the honor of our house. You acted just as the Romans always claimed we Kena’ani did. I’m ashamed.”

“We were forced into a corner. We only did what we thought we had to do. What else would you have had me do, Beatrice?”

She shook her head. “It’s done. Now all you can do is go to Gadir. Take better care of Hanan and Astraea than you did of Cat. For Tanit’s sake, Papa, don’t let Astraea get away with being such a little brat. And take Callie, if she’ll go. For she’s alone here.”

“Callie?” he said, so startled at this request he forgot his tears.

“Do you want to go?” Bee asked Callie. “I know you’ve nowhere else to go.”

With her flyaway pale hair pulled back severely but wisps straggling everywhere, and a mended shawl pulled tight around her narrow shoulders, Callie looked fragile, but she was not weak nor was she stupid. “I don’t know what to expect in Gadir, truly, but I’ve been cold and starving on the streets of Adurnam, and I never want to be so again. But if you and Maestressa Catherine must stay, then won’t you be needing me here?”

“There will be other arrangements,” said Bee. “You must go with him. And now, I admit, I am terribly hungry, and I would like to eat.”

With a halting step, Uncle left the kitchen.

Callie took the bowls, ladled more soup in, and set them down with a cup of mead. She checked the lamps and retreated to her stool. I did not ask her to leave. This was her room, not ours, and, anyway, it was warm and removed from the cold mage and the soldiers. I heard them moving about in the front parlor and entry hall, speaking in low voices. Bee picked up her spoon and ate her soup. Then she drank the mead, first her cup and, after a while, mine.

I stared at the journal.

Long I stared. Hope tasted of ashes in my mouth.

I had come too far to give up now.

I untied the ribbon, and I ran a hand down the creamy leather and, with a held breath, opened it. I knew his writing, with its long tails and flowing curves. So easy to read.

I read as the lamps burned, and as Bee watched me, and as Callie waited, for servants must learn to wait, it being their duty to do so whatever their personal wishes might be.

Tara has risked much and never faltered in her duty. She has seen awful things. She has blood on her hands. She is scarred by the wars.

He did not mean only physical scars.

I will protect Tara always, however I can. What happened on the ice does not matter. The child will be my child. I will protect her no matter the cost. I have promised Tara that, and even if I had not, it would make no difference, for my little cat is my sweet daughter, the delight of my life. How I wish I had known far earlier how one can lose one’s heart to something so precious.