The Tower by Jean Johnson

Author:Jean Johnson [Johnson, Jean]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group, USA
Published: 2013-03-25T19:00:00+00:00

TEN

When she woke a short while later, the first thing on Myal’s mind was, literally, a headache. It throbbed in that peculiar way that said she had overslept, and not the completely good, completely restful, satisfying sort of sleep. She felt rested, but not completely so. Then again, Kerric had warned her it wouldn’t be quite like real sleep.

Lying there, eyes shut against the ever-present light of the suncrystals striating the lounge ceiling, she focused on her breathing and her spine tattoo. Within a half dozen deep breaths, her head felt better, allowing her to open her eyes. Nothing had changed; she still lay on her side curled up with the Master of the Tower, both of them naked, and neither having lain there long enough for the cool air to give them a chill.

Beside her, Kerric still slept, curled up on his side, cheek pillowed on her bicep, arms folded up against his chest. He didn’t look like his usual self, asleep; the vibrancy of his personality had faded, leaving a solemn-looking man edging toward middle-age. Hints of stubble shadowed his jaw, and the lips that could kiss and caress her so well, that smiled so readily, were now lax.

She thought him very handsome, if exotic, with his sharp nose and pale skin. There was just one problem seeing him like this: She wanted to see him smiling in his sleep.

In one of the western lands whose coast she had visited as a sailor—Myal couldn’t remember which one off the top of her head—she had heard a saying that a woman’s or a man’s true face appeared when they let down their guard as they slept. If that saying was true, Kerric Vo Mos looked like a man who took his responsibilities seriously, who was more concerned than he was letting on while awake, but who was not so mired in his troubles that it permanently creased his brow in a frown. Indeed, as she studied him, she found more evidence for tiny laugh-lines at the corner of his eye than she could see of scowl marks and the like.

A deep breath told her his spell was wearing off. Drawing in a second one, he opened his eyes, stared at her shoulder for a moment, then lifted his gray eyes to her face. The smile he gave her was warm, sleepy, and contented. She didn’t know whether to cuddle him, kiss him, or push him onto his back and mount him. It was possible she could do all three.

Just as she drew in a breath to suggest it, his eyes snapped wide, focusing somewhere past her face. “Someone’s testing my wards to the Banqueting Hall. We need to get dressed.”

Myal bolted out of the bed. Spinning around to survey the scattered mess of their gear, she grabbed for her undergarments. A chuckle from her partner confused her. “—What?”

“They’ll take a good twenty minutes or more to break through at the rate they’re going,” Kerric soothed her. Sitting up, he

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