Kaelan glowered, folding his arms over his chest.
Gur prowled up behind Magda and insinuated his head under her hand. A flood of emotions and intentions pushed into her. She took a moment, absorbing the semargl’s clear and strong personality. He was loyal to Endreas. Endreas wanted her to live and reach the Spire. So that was what Gur intended to see happen. He would do whatever he could to help her succeed in that.
Finally, she let her fingers pull through Gur’s mane, plucking one of the exotic crimson flowers from his fur, spinning it, and then letting it fall.
“Kaelan and Honey will take Anqa. Damion, you and I will go with Gur.”
Honey clapped and bounced a bit. “I’ve always wanted to see the mountains.”
“Wouldn’t it be better...” Kaelan said, eyes fixed on the ground, “if I went with you, and Damion went with Honey?”
Damion scowled. “No.”
“If we’re separated or attacked,” Kaelan said, “Honey and I will have little hope of defending ourselves. You two are warriors. We’re not.”
Damion’s shoulders fell.
“All right,” Magda said. “Damion, you and Honey go with Anqa.”
“Why don’t I take the Prince?” Damion asked.
Magda knew he was looking for any alternative to spending hours in the air with Honey. She couldn’t blame him. The nymph’s blank-eyed cheerfulness wasn’t just irritating, it was unsettling. Every time Magda looked at her, the nymph's wounded soul seemed to cause Magda’s to twinge in sympathy.
“Because neither of you can communicate with Gur or Anqa,” Magda said.
Damion was grim, but had no further suggestions to free himself from Honey’s company.
“Let’s go,” Magda said. “I’d like to be clear of Elf territory before nightfall.”
“Don’t forget this,” Kaelan said, picking up Endreas’s coat from where he’d laid it on top of the hut.
She frowned at his provocative tone.
“Why don’t you wear it, Honey?” Magda said. “You’re the least clothed of all of us.”
“Nymphs don’t feel cold,” Honey said with a smile.
Magda frowned. “How nice for you.”
Damion took the coat from Kaelan. He held it up and examined it. “It’s a good coat,” he pronounced. He tossed it into Magda’s hands. “Put it on. The last thing we need is for you to grow ill.”
“Why don’t you wear it?” she said to him.
He made a face at her, as if not understanding her resistance. “Put on the damned coat, Mistress,” he said. As he charged away, he grasped Honey’s arm and dragged her back to the roc.
She started to drop the coat back on top of the hut, but Kaelan caught her wrist.
“Damion is right. You were freezing when you arrived. Put it on. It’s only a coat.”
“You wear it,” she said. “You’ll have to ride behind me anyway. You can keep me warm.”
His lips pressed into a thin line.
“It’s only a coat,” she said. “Right?”
With clear reluctance, he took the coat and put it on. She refrained from commenting on how it fit him—perfectly. Though he and Endreas looked little alike, except for the shape of their eyes and the staggering slant of their cheekbones, they appeared to share the same frame. Perhaps Kaelan was a bit thinner, but had he been better fed and trained, the two would’ve been able to swap clothes easily. And something in its fine black-on-black embroidery along the seams—dragon knot work—the elegant, trim cut... For the first time since she’d met him, Kaelan truly looked a Prince.
For a long moment, they stood there, regarding each other.
