If he had any thought, it was vague regret that he was in no shape to take further advantage of the caves.
Later, as he drifted toward wakefulness, the idea came back to him. Rest had done him good, and having Vivian tucked against him, the curve of her hip under one of his palms and his other hand lying temptingly close to the upswell of her breasts, had an unsurprising effect. He believed she was awake: her breathing wasn’t as slow or deep as it would’ve been otherwise, nor was she as relaxed.
Olvir was sleepily bending to nuzzle her neck when she slid away. Concern broke through most of his drowsiness immediately. Had he assumed too much? Was she uninterested? He pulled back, waiting to learn more and trying to wake up further.
Then he knew there was somebody else with them.
As methods of killing arousal went, that was fairly effective. Concern turned to alarm in a second. Olvir had bolted upward before a few details entered his mind.
First, the presence wasinhis mind. The room was physically empty except for Olvir and Vivian.
Second, something was flowing between that being and Vivian. It resembled conversation in a different room, too muffled to make out distinct words. She was communicating, and the other was responding, in a give-and-take that became clearer the further Olvir got from sleep.
Third, although Olvir couldn’t sense the new arrival in any great detail, they seemed familiar.
Pieces of information snapped together into an understanding as awkward, in several ways, as it was surprising.
“Ah,” he said.
Vivian turned toward him, frowning. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We’re in no danger.”
“No, I… That’s all right. You didn’t.” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling worse than he would’ve if he’d walked in on her undressing. Even if they hadn’t been lovers,thatsort of mishap was reasonably common in camp, but the situation now was miles from normal. “I think,” Olvir went on, “that I can sense Ulamir now. He’s back, isn’t he?”
* * *
It was far too early in the morning for surprises.
It’s not morning.
Vivian couldn’t contradict Ulamir. She prodded her consciousness upright, forcing herself to address the topic of most immediate concern. “He is,” she told Olvir. “How much are you…overhearing?”
“Not very. I just know that he’s here, and I can tell when the two of you speak.”
If he was lying or possessed, Vivian couldn’t tell it. Olvir looked as earnest as he ever had. Sitting up half-naked, gradually beginning to lose the first strung-wire alertness of a warrior surprised from sleep, he also looked as appealing as he ever had, not that she could do a damned thing about it.
The world, and its need for saving, needed a good kicking.
The last two days have let you gratify yourself. Greed is unbecoming.
“It’s so lovely that you’re back,” said Vivian. “Are you any more aware of Olvir than you were before?”
No. He stands out no more than any other mortal who isn’t you.
“Ah.” Vivian stood up and began to dress. Figuring out what to say about Olvir’s newfound ability required figuring out what she thought about it. “He can’t sense you,” she finally said as her head emerged from the neck of her shirt. “And it’s probably a good sign that you pick up on his presence. The more you can perceive, the more you can affect, or some theory along those lines.”
“Not that I would, in this case,” Olvir said quickly.
“No, I’d really rather you didn’t.” In another situation, Vivian might have wanted him to try and see if he could let Ulamir talk to both of them. Translating was unwieldy at times. The circumstances that made it a possibility, however, meant it was one of the last things she wanted Olvir to do.
Guilt over her secrecy, or its potential cause, wasn’t really the right word for what she felt. Her possible task was vital. Secrecy could be crucial to accomplishing it if the need did arise. Vivian had no doubt of that. She still wished that neither had been the case, for as much good as wishing ever did.
“Perhaps best just to write it off as an interesting symptom. I’ll try to pretend it isn’t happening.” He gave her a sweet, rueful smile, the acceptance in it like a needle in Vivian’s heart. “I hope he fared well with the spirits he was talking to.”
They were echoes, not spirits, but we were well met all the same. He asks kindly.
“Ulamir says thank you,” Vivian relayed. “He also said that the storm has basically ended. It’s chilly, but nothing that should be dangerous for either of us to walk in. I was going to mention that earlier.”
“I assumed you likely had a reason for getting dressed,” Olvir said, fastening his belt over his own shirt and tunic. “And that was the only one that seemed likely. It’s good that we can be on our way again.”
