The Wonder Engine (Clocktaur War, #2)

by T. Kingfisher

“Your enemies are my enemies, remember? Knight, liege lord?” “Oh, that.”

He was using the voice on her. The paladin’s voice, calm and patient and absurdly trustworthy. Slate wasn’t sure if she resented that or not.

And at that point, three things occurred to Slate more or less simultaneously. The first was that she was naked, except for a sheet that had mostly fallen off while she was coughing. The second was that Caliban was still holding her up. His arm lay across her bare back. His hand was very warm and he was running his thumb across the point of her shoulder without seeming to realize it. The third, unfortunately, was that with her hair hanging in sweaty strands and her face red and damp and her nose swollen, she was probably about as attractive as an injured mudskipper.

Oh, well, probably for the best. Am I even allowed to nail a knight sworn in my service? Is that fraternizing? Would he be doing it because he wanted to, or under orders? Does that fall into duty to one’s liege? Have I even forgiven him for calling me weak? He did apologize, but then he swore fealty to me like an idiot, and I don’t know if I’ve forgiven him for that, either. No. No. This is too complicated. Entirely too complicated. Stick to the mission. I don’t have time for this.

“I owed you a midnight waking,” he said, a bit dryly. “And at least you didn’t try to stab me.” “You could go out and come in again and I could have a knife ready, if it would make you feel better.”

Four months in a jail cell. No one should look that good after four months in a jail cell. The Dreaming God has impeccable standards. Why couldn’t he look like…like Brenner, say? I’d have jumped his bones weeks ago if he looked like a human and not a damn piece of statuary.

I would know you anywhere. I would recognize you at the bottom of a mineshaft on a moonless light, if I were deaf and blind.

“Damn. No one ever tells me I’ve got a tidy mind.” “It’s tidier than mine,” said Brenner. “Yes, but yours is full of spiders.” The assassin looked absurdly flattered by this.

Caliban would have laid down his life for Slate, probably with a sense of relief, but a man’s socks…that was asking a lot.

Slate returned with an armful of clothes. Caliban picked up the shirt she had been wearing when she dropped onto the rune and wrinkled his nose. “I am a paladin, not a resurrectionist. This shirt is dead.” “I liked that shirt.” “I can give it last rites. That’s as far as I’ll go.” “Fine, fine…”

“The Senators who started the war aren’t even in charge any more,” said Slate darkly. Caliban raised an eyebrow. “They aren’t?” “No. Two of them turned up dead and a couple retired.” “Turned up dead?” Slate flapped a hand at him. “Don’t get sidetracked on that. Senators turn up dead all the time. It’s one of the acceptable forms of retirement here.”

“Politics,” she said. “It doesn’t make any sense. People do the stupidest shit and you want to scream that it’s against their own interests and you never know if they’re playing some deep game you don’t know about or if they’re really just that stupid. Right now, I think we’re having a war because we’ve already got a war, so we might as well keep it.”

Her lips curled up at the corners. “I never saw the need for paladins of My own. But my, what lovely, broken creatures you are…”

“Be careful, paladin,” she whispered. “The hole in your heart is very large. Be careful what you allow to fill it.”

“I still can’t believe we’re breaking into a library,” said Learned Edmund. “You make it sound like we’re robbing graves,” said Slate.

Damn the man. And damn Learned Edmund for coming in before I could climb him like a drainpipe and see what he thought of that.

“I need your help,” said Caliban. Slate looked up at him from her seat on the floor. “Oh? Need a document changed, or just practicing your looming?” “Am I looming?” “Quite effectively, yes.”

She looked faintly amused. Caliban was glad to see that she was no longer aggravated with him over…whatever it had been. Although she was also not looking at him with naked hunger in her eyes. Probably for the best. I have demons to chase down, not…not…

Slate had had fantasies about this moment, god help her. She’d wondered what he’d say. You’re beautiful. I want you. I’ve waited for this. Probably not, I love you, but, Take me now would have been fine.

“Are you certain you…” Oh, hell with it. If you wait for him to talk himself into it, you’ll both die of old age.

Goddamn, he was pretty. It was practically offensive.

He shivered. “Slate…” he said, catching her hands. “Slate, I am not sure I can do this right.” She raised an eyebrow at that. “Really? It’s pretty straightforward.” She glanced down and added “I could be wrong, but it doesn’t look like there’s going to be a problem.” Caliban stared at her and then started to laugh. He raised her hands to his lips. “I meant that I wanted to make this perfect.” His breath on her fingers was going to drive her nearly as mad as his voice. “We’ll go for perfect next time,” she said, and dragged him down beside her.

“Tomorrow. Then I’m going to sleep now. There’s less chance I’ll say something stupid and you’ll make me sleep in the hall.”

She’s alive and I am allowed to touch her like this.

“People don’t even talk to other people much,” said Caliban.

“Some men like to be used. Our paladin more than most, I’d say. He couldn’t get a god to do it, fine. He found somebody else.” “You’re saying he wants me to be his god?” Brenner smirked. “Someone to worship, anyhow.