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“Even so.” His tone shifted smoothly into one of command. “The next time we do something involving Fae magic, I must be present when Cirri is introduced to it.”
Wyn shot him an a
Bane let out a nearly inaudible sigh, and approached Rose first. His pointed ears went flat against his skull as he moved, swiveling to hear behind him; Thorn had smoothly slipped into place at his back, following exactly three paces from the fiend as he drew closer to me.
“Now, that’s not quite what I’d instructed them to do…” Wyn murmured, watching with sharp eyes as Thorn rounded Bane to stand by me.
I kept my arms at my sides, afraid of any sudden movements that might cause me to smash directly into those prickly limbs. Thorn ‘stared’ at Bane as he drew closer, clearly assuming a posture of defense.
Oh, by the Light… I didn’t think I could deal with a golem trying to come between me and my husband, as though Bane posed any threat to me whatsoever.
Bane’s ears flicked upwards again, his muzzle wrinkling, lip curling up to expose his fangs. “You’re made of my blood,” he snarled at the golem. “Back away.”
The golem didn’t move; Rose cowered behind the table, her hands pressed to a nonexistent mouth.
Even without expression, his hands unmoving, Thorn seemed to grow almost belligerent at Bane’s command; somehow he managed to project it in the lines of his body, his stance.
Bane stared him down for a moment longer, then relaxed, to my surprise. “Good. A cowardly protector wouldn’t be of much use. It’s a little overprotective, though.”
Like you? I asked, raising my brows. He is made of your blood, as you said.
Bane gave me a slight smile.
“You can call it off, Cirrien,” Wyn said, still watching with avid interest as the golem made of Bane’s blood refused to submit to his donor’s intimidation.
I sidled to the side, so that I was within Thorn’s line of sight.
He’s my husband, I signed firmly to the golem. When he’s around, I want him with me. I appreciate the thought, but I don’t want to be guarded against him at all.
For several long seconds, I was afraid my efforts were in vain, but Thorn finally nodded, taking several steps back to stand near Rose.
“Excellent.” The relief in Wyn’s voice was audible. “There’s always a slight chance a construct will take the salient part of the personality of whoever donated materials to its core being, so, er… we shouldn’t be surprised that it’s utterly obstinate.”
Thorn’s head tipped to the side, and he signed with one hand. He.
“What was that?” Wyn asked.
He, I wrote for her benefit. He says he’s a he, not an it.
I glanced at the golem, the spines protruding from his cheeks catching the light, and then at the soft curve of Rose’s face. Was it because they had been designed in bodies with clear male and female lines, or because I had referred to Thorn as a ‘he’ to Bane? Wyn said they were simple, but how much did they really understand?
“If they disturb you, we can put a stop to this,” Bane told me softly, his golden eyes locked on mine. “I thought you might want friends who would understand you more easily. Friends who could watch your back when you need it. So long as you understand that they must never leave Ravenscry, or be seen by the Rift-kin. They… wouldn’t accept them.”
Both Thorn and Rose looked at me, both effortlessly projecting their concern that I would ask Wyn to incinerate them on the spot.
But… Thorn reminded me a little of Bane, with his truculent refusal to move. And Rose seemed so delighted by simple things: the color of my hair, perfectly aligning the edges of the books. They could both easily understand the priests’ tongue, which would make my life easier.
I imagined Miro trying to paint with Thorn breathing down his neck and Rose plucking at his hair, and had to suppress a smile.
Besides, when would I ever leave the keep of my own accord? I had no need to fear them following me into some poor unsuspecting village when I pla
I like them, I told Bane. They stay.