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No longer a delicate touch that coaxed and teased and encouraged, Radimar’s kiss consumed her. Jahna sank into it, not caring if her response was a clumsy effort of eagerness, wonder and inexperience. Radimar didn’t seem to care either. His mouth played along hers with the skill of an adept, the sweep of his tongue edging the underside of her upper lip, making her startle at first and then moan against his mouth at the sensations that sizzled from her face to her feet.

His hands slid from her face to her shoulders and down her back to gather her close. Even with layers of clothing between them, Jahna still felt the muscular contours of his chest pressed to her breasts, the way his broad shoulders flexed under her massaging fingers.

And that kiss. The first she’d ever received that wasn’t a peck on the cheek from her father or Sodrin. There was no comparison between those casual displays of familial affection and this wonder of sensuality that sent the blood rushing under her skin like fire and burned ever hotter when he coaxed her mouth open a little wider and slid his tongue inside.

She shivered but didn’t pull away, enjoying the taste and feel of him inside her, the scent of him in her nostrils, and most of all the telling groan that traveled deep from within his chest to flow from his mouth to hers. Magic, Jahna thought. This was magic no sorcerer could create with potions or invocations.

The spell Radimar wove around them shattered when Sodrin’s steady snores broke into a series of explosive snorts and a round of coughing. Radimar backed away from Jahna. Caught by surprise at both her brother’s porcine racket and Radimar’s abrupt withdrawal, she stumbled toward the swordmaster who restored her balance with a hand on her elbow.

She still couldn’t clearly see his face in the dark room, but she didn’t have to. The horror in his voice clanged like a discordant bell in her ears.

“Gods,” he uttered on a hard exhale. “What am I doing?” He let her go as if she’d suddenly been set ablaze and might burn him as well. “I’m sorry, Jahna,” he said, and pivoted away on a rush of cold air and the snap of his cloak. Before she could call out to him to wait, he was gone, the door closing behind him with a quiet click.

Shock nailed Jahna’s feet to the floor but only for a moment. She raced after him, yanking the door open to skid into the corridor. Its emptiness mocked her. The man who wove sorcery with a kiss had disappeared like smoke.

“Come back.” Jahna’s soft plea spilled into the silence. No one replied.

She spent the rest of the night in her bed, staring at the ceiling and reliving those moments in Radimar’s arms. It might have been an exercise of euphoric wonder were it not tainted by his appalled apology. She touched her stained cheek. In the dark, it was no different from her other cheek. Same smooth skin, same shape. Had a stray beam of moonlight shone on her birthmark? Reminded Radimar that he kissed a woman whose face once frightened a small child so much, he cried into his mother’s skirts?

Jahna swallowed down a knot of tears. She’d done more than enough weeping for the night, nor would she torture herself any longer with questions only the swordmaster could answer. In the morning, at first light, she’d seek him out, demand to know why he had fled, for that’s exactly what he had done. The reasons for his flight remained a mystery to her, but the sick feeling in the pit of her belly warned her none of them were good.

Her resolve to catch Radimar early proved futile. Jahna had no idea where he disappeared to after he left Uhlfrida’s suite, but she assumed he would return for no other reason than to haul an ailing Sodrin out of bed for more training.

Sodrin huddled in his bed with a wash basin tucked against his side. He clutched it like a lover and glared at Jahna with bleary eyes. “I haven’t seen him, brat, and thank the gods for it this morning. Now go away.”

She searched for Radimar throughout the palace grounds to no avail. He might as well have been a ghost. Her father had also vanished, and Jahna didn’t find him until the torches had been lit and the crowds packed every nook and cranny of the palace and its grounds in preparation for the Firehound spectacle and the closing of the Delyalda festival.

Uhlfrida stood on one of the upper loggias among a gathering of other nobles. Jahna raced into the palace and up a flight of stairs to reach him, ignoring the gasps that followed her from visitors who hadn’t met or seen her before. Her father’s wide-eyed surprise when she yanked him around to face her might have been laughable if she wasn’t desperate.

“Jahna!” His hearty smile welcomed her, but there was a sadness in his eyes that made her stomach roil with dread. “Glad you’re here. You can watch the Firehound with me. Your brother is still in no shape to crawl out of his bed.”

“Where is Sir Radimar?” she said without preamble.

Her father’s voice adopted a more guarded tone. “Gone, Jahna. Back to Ilinfan. I thought he told you about the letter he received from the Brotherhood.”

Gone. The word repeated in her head, becoming a monosyllabic dirge that reached deep into her spirit to suffocate her. She stared at her father so long without replying that he frowned and pressed a hand to her arm.

“Jahna?”

“I knew about the letter and that he would be returning to Ilinfan,” she said, congratulating herself on the steadiness of her voice. “I just thought he’d wait until we all returned to Hollowfell before he left.”

He hadn’t told her goodbye. Not a word or a note or even a message delivered by another party. Nothing except the memory of his mouth on hers, his hands on her back, and the dismay in his voice when he beseeched the gods and left her in the darkness.

Uhlfrida gave her a puzzled look. “Why would he do that? He’d have to double back. Ilinfan is closer to the capital than to Hollowfell.”

Because I hoped he’d delay or change his mind. He’d done neither, and Jahna clenched her teeth to keep from sobbing.

“He didn’t tell you or Sodrin goodbye?”

“He came to me this morning and said he could wait no longer in his leavetaking if he was to have any chance of seeing the Brotherhood’s leader before he died. He asked that I deliver his farewells to you and Sodrin for him. It worked out for the best I think. The king was so impressed with Sodrin’s performance in the Exhibition yesterday that he has requested Sodrin join his royal guard.” Uhlfrida beamed, the expression dimming at Jahna’s weak smile. “Radimar also bid me to tell you he wishes you good fortune in your apprenticeship as a chronicler.”

That first sharp swell of pain had subsided, leaving behind a distant numbness. Jahna nodded. “Thank you for telling me, Father.”

Uhlfrida patted her shoulder. “Radimar was a good man and an unparalleled swordsman and teacher. Worth every coin I paid him and then some. I made sure he took with him a hefty bonus. I’m ready for home, especially since we’ll be back here in the spring to deliver Sodrin to the royal guard and you to the Archives.”

She left him to his socializing with the promise she’d be ready to leave the following day for Hollowfell. That night she watched the Firehound spectacle from the forgotten garden, alone among the brambles and scatter of silver-gilt roses.

The king’s sorcerers outdid themselves this year, fashioning spectacular creatures of smoke and flame to tell the story of how the Firehound chased the Darkness across the rim of the world, until it caught it by the hem of its cloak and tore away a remnant in its teeth. The rip exposed the sky and all the stars, the moon and the sun, which gave life to the once desolate earth.