Page 18

A WEEK AND a half slid past far too quickly, and Char had practically moved into Fen’s set of rooms. He hadn’t meant to, but as every evening rolled around and Char finished closing up the kitchen for the night, he gravitated up the stairs and into Fen’s space. And it was good. Very, very good in every salacious euphemism Char’s brain could come up with. Even the nights Fen didn’t make it to bed—too busy with work or because he was over at the palace until late and slept there—it was still good. Being surrounded by Fen, his musky scent from the soap in his shower and the earthy tang beneath enveloping Char, even when Fen’s arms weren’t there to hold Char close, gave a real sense of comfort and security.

Of course, the entire base knew. By the second day, Char found his clothes hanging in the closet—distinguishable from Fen’s because they were two sizes smaller—and extra towels in the bathroom. Char wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of his things and even some of his furniture began magically gravitating into Fen’s rooms—the servants were scarily efficient—until Fen’s rooms became their rooms. Perhaps that idea was the best part of all; the feeling of combining their lives together so viscerally and with the tacit support of everyone around them.

Unfortunately, this morning those good feelings were tenuous at best and fleeing quickly. For the first time since Char had been threatened by that dark stranger in his kitchen, he was leaving the security of the base to go to the market in the capital city. Char sat on the edge of the bed to pull his socks on and then paused, biting his lip as worries swirled through his mind.

Fen’s gentle breathing behind Char slowed, and then Fen rolled over and wrapped his arms around Char’s waist.

“You’ll have two royal guards with you, and two more guards maintaining a perimeter,” Fen explained, his lips moving against the back of Char’s neck, feathering like butterfly wings. He pressed a kiss there before drawing back and shifting so he was sitting next to Char on the edge of the bed. “The city guards have been put on alert and have promised to increase patrols. Anyone who even thinks about targeting you will see all your protection and immediately cancel their nefarious plans. You’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.” Char let out a sigh, wishing the churning feeling in his gut would be reassured by Fen’s confidence.

“Oh! Before I forget. The quartermaster asked you to stop by if you have time today once you’re back. He wants to measure you for winter gear.”

“I won’t need heavy clothes with the ovens blasting in the kitchen,” Char said, wondering why a chef would need something like that.

Fen laughed. “This is the royal guard. At some point you’re going to be deployed with us in the field again, and if it happens in winter the quartermaster wants to be prepared. Besides, you’ll still be going to market in the winter, and there’s the winter festivals and such. You’ll need heavier gear for that too.”

“I guess I will,” Char replied. As usual, he hadn’t thought much past the needs of his kitchen, but Fen had yet again easily compensated for him.

Fen leaned close, Char tilted his head, and their lips brushed briefly, a quick zing like the moment sweetness overtook the sour in that first gulp of lemonade. Fen drew away, leaving Char blinking in surprise and wanting more.

“You have bread to bake,” Fen explained. “I’m going to the palace today, so I’ll see you in the courtyard later.”

The call of bread was stronger than the pull of Fen’s smile, but only because Fen went into the bathroom and vanished from view. Char hurried downstairs and into the kitchen, waved to Ralph, and went to get the ovens lit. His helpers trickled in, but this time Char left them to their own thing, concentrating on the bread and only the bread. The cold and ice boxes were full of carefully labeled leftovers, each with detailed reheating instructions, and Char had trained enough people on the basic use of the kitchen, so he wasn’t too concerned about returning to a disaster. Char had also heard the day’s helpers were specifically chosen because they were competent in the kitchen since Char wasn’t going to be around again until after the dinner rush to supervise.

Karl, Shan, and Emily wandered in, and Karl immediately went over to Char while the other two held back, looking anxious.

“Today is an off day from school,” Karl began, standing back as Char pulled cooked bread from the oven and slotted in his last trays of raw. “And we made sure to finish our homework last night. Can we come with you to the city?”

“I can carry lots of stuffs for you!” Emily chimed in eagerly.

“Um,” Char said, unwilling to commit to anything when it came to the three kids, particularly since Karl was technically here as punishment and might not be allowed to leave to go to the city. Ralph shrugged when Char glanced at him for help. “Tell you what,” Char said, coming to a decision. “You can come out to the courtyard with me where Commander Fen will be waiting. If the commander says you can go, I’ll allow it, but if he says no, you’ll have to see if one of the captains could use you for the day instead.”

Karl grinned. “Thanks, Chef!”

“Thanks!” the other two added.

Char sighed but let it go. He put together five plates from the leftovers the helpers were preparing, and he and the kids joined Ralph at a table to eat. By the time they were done, the last of the bread was also ready. Char left it to cool, wished the kitchen helpers luck, and led the way out of the kitchen, through the barracks, and out the front door. The walk to the courtyard didn’t take too long, even when compensating for Emily’s shorter stride, so soon enough they joined the small throng of people and horses.

Fen was waiting by Char’s donkey—the same donkey from their trip over the mountains, who appeared to be happy to only be working during Char’s market runs—so Char headed over there.

“Here ye are,” a hostler said when Char reached Fen’s side. “Yer donkey and the empty saddle bags. I know he’s technically your beast, but we’ve taken to calling him Wise—” He cut off at the sight of the three kids behind Char and amended the second half of the name with barely a hiccup.“—One. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Wise One is a great name for a donkey,” Char replied, taking the reins from the hostler with a smile. “Thank you for getting him ready.”

“Of course. Chef. Commander.” He saluted them both before trotting off.

Bemused at being saluted, it took Char a moment to realize Fen was frowning at Karl, Shan, and Emily rather than after the hostler.

“If you go with Char, you’re going to be part of his security detail. You understand?” Fen asked them, his voice stern and unyielding. “You will coordinate your actions with Sergeant Ralph and behave yourselves. You’re representing the royal guard, and I expect you to act accordingly.”

All three kids nodded solemnly, Emily’s eyes as wide as saucers.

“Right. Let’s mount up and get going.” Fen shared a brief, private smile with Char before heading in the direction of the waiting horses. Char was going on foot, since even the donkey was technically too much to take into the busy market, but Fen kept the horses to a walk so they stayed together as they left the compound. Only when they reached the fork in the road where Fen went toward the palace did they separate. Char waved but continued onward in the direction of the main city gates.

Emily rode on the donkey, Karl and Shan walking on either side. Ralph was in front and Sherri in back. They maintained that formation even as they entered the line of people waiting to be admitted at the gates. Luckily, Ralph showed something to one of the guards so they bypassed the line, going into the city much faster than Char was used to when he went by himself.

The main city market was only about ten blocks into the city, close to the gate for merchants and farmers to come and go with ease and along the wide thoroughfare that cut through the center of the city. The morning was still young enough the crowds hadn’t yet emerged, the current smattering of people nothing in comparison to what the crush would be when they left in a few hours.

Char ran through his mental list of what he wanted to buy. A couple hundred canning jars would be his main purchase—which he would have delivered since Wise One wouldn’t be able to carry those in his saddle bags—but Char also wanted to start stocking up on high quality dried ingredients. Merchants would offer their wares and their business cards at the market, and Char would buy enough to experiment with the options before contracting for a regular delivery with the merchant directly. He also wanted to find some quality extra-large soup pots to supplement what the kitchen already had on hand since he hoped to serve soups and stews all winter at both lunch and dinner.

They traveled for about three blocks before Ralph swore quietly and stopped, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Char glanced around, gulping. At first glance, the twenty or so people surrounding them looked like other shoppers heading to the market. Yet, something about the way they stood read like a formation—too organized to be a coincidence. Plus, they stopped when Ralph stopped, and then suddenly drew their weapons and charged, not waiting for Ralph to finish drawing his sword.

After that day in the tent, all those weeks ago, when Char had learned he could use his magic to stop bladed weapons, he had practiced. Mostly by himself in the late evenings and never against an actual opponent, he was good at calling the magic to his arms or chest where he could more effectively shield himself. He coated himself now, glowing blue just in time, as a long knife was thrust in his direction.

Char blocked with his forearm, sending the knife wide to his left, and then shoved the attacker, who went sprawling and knocking over a couple more attackers as he fell. That wasn’t nearly enough to help stem the quantity of people. Sherri was fighting at least five on her own, but they were effectively drawing her farther away from the group as they circled her. Char blocked and shoved a second time, but this time the attacker only fell back a single step before charging again. Emily rolled off Wise One with a shout and suddenly Shan was there, a knife in each hand, jabbing and slashing at the attackers like he knew what he was doing. Emily resurfaced from the scrum holding a knife, which she promptly sank into the nearest calf, thrusting with her whole body behind the move in a trained motion that Zain must have taught her.

Ralph had taken on nearly ten attackers, trying to draw the main group to him and away from Char. He was holding his own even against those odds, although Karl popped in and out of view, a pair of knives in his hands, helping to even the playing field.

Then, in the next moment, a flash of red magic erupted next to Ralph, who let out a pained shriek and went down.

“Ralp—” Char tried to yell, but then dark fabric dropped over his head. A pop sounded, blasting what felt like a sickly sweet-smelling powder all over his face, and then…nothing.