Zan yanks the towel out of my hand with a growl, but I anticipated this and already have another one in my other hand.
His towel lashes toward me, but mine catches his with a wet snap.
We mock-trade several more blows like two dueling swords, dancing around the kitchen.
Even without our magic, we’ve both trained for combat for a long time, and our honed reflexes keep either of us from gaining the upper hand quickly.
But after a minute of tussling, somehow we end up with Zan having caught one of my arms in a lock behind me with his towel while I’ve reached behind me with my towel and am rubbing the egg off his head vigorously.
Nomi mutters, “I’m going to get the ice cream,” and leaves the house.
“You’re a menace,” Zan grumbles from behind me.
But I can hear the smile in his voice.
“And you are ridiculous,” I tell him, finishing with the towel and tossing it aside.
Zan immediately releases my other arm and spins me around.
This time, it’s me who bands my arms around him, pressing my head into his chest.
Zan wraps himself around me too, all the tension in his body releasing as he rests his head against mine.
For a minute we just stand there, holding each other; breathing.
Finally I say, “Thank you for cleaning the kitchen. I’m starving. Could you make me an omelet, please?”
I feel Zan’s lips curve against me. “My pleasure.”
Thetripdownthemountain is easier in some ways but harder in others.
On one hand, Zan and I aren’t sniping at each other constantly.
On the other, now I don’t have that to distract me anymore from what’s coming.
This time, at least, I have ideas for some spells to cast before we enter the town: sound-dampening, primarily, as well as focus again.
Nomi also talks to me about what to expect at the market, so I won’t be as completely overwhelmed by processing everything at once... but I’m anxious anyway.
Zan’s presence with me, though, is a source of strength, even when he’s quiet. I’m both achingly glad to have him here andabout to claw out of my skin thinking about what that means for me, and for my future.
Fortunately (??) I’m distracted by that once we enter the market, and the deluge of sensory overload.
Nomi leads us to one of the many stalls... where Teren is waiting by himself.
“Is that a good idea?” I ask softly.
“Priests can lay siege to our house as easily as they can kidnap him from the middle of a public square,” Nomi answers. “At least this way, they’ll be in full view of the public and have to justify themselves.”
I hadn’t thought of that. Her house may have protections from Zan’s dragon magic—protections that are less effective, now that the priests can work their own magic in the former Quiet. But that doesn’t matter if Teren can’t leave to procure food—or if the priests take Nomi hostage outside its doors to lure him out.
I exchange a glance with Zan. I feel like he must all the time—like I’m always a step behind and haven’t learned enough.
But Nomi thought of it, and that’s, perhaps, the point.
If I’m not alone now, I don’t have to have all the ideas myself.
Teren still seems relieved to see us when we arrive at the stall. The table is covered in colorful knit crafts, but there’s a space on one side.
