Page 49 of Witchcraft and Fury (Chronicles of the Divided Isle #1)

When she reached the staircase, she could not resist a quick glance over her shoulder.

The three chairs were empty, Lord Sceotend and Sir Egeslic nowhere to be seen.

She wondered if they knew of a secret entrance to the cellar.

She climbed the stairs, pushed past the servant still standing watch, strode out of the kitchens and made towards the guardhouse.

She didn’t trust the two noblemen as far as she could toss a troll, but having heard them out, she had to admit that their warning about Lar rang true.

Still, she reflected determinedly, it wouldn’t put her off playing dice with the guardsman; rather, it gave her all the more reason to fleece him for all he was worth.

*

That evening, Solar and the other students spent her winnings in a city tavern that served oysters.

The wine and food were far more expensive than they had anticipated, so much so that the boys had to delve deep into their own purses, but still they ate and drank until they thought they would burst.

Solar had chosen to eat away from the palace complex not just for a change of scene, but to ensure that they were far from any ears that might be listening as she recounted most of the conversation she’d had in the wine cellar.

Her mentioning of assassins put the other trainees in a sombre mood, but Cal was reassuring: ‘I’ve also had politicians approach me during my stay here, especially since I carved my staff and started carrying it around with me,’ he said.

‘They know I don’t get on with my father and see it as an opportunity to recruit me to their own political causes and factions.

It was exactly the same kind of conversation that you had, Solar: veiled threats and honeyed praises. ’

‘And?’ asked Wyman, slurping another oyster. ‘Did you decide to align yourself to any of them?’

‘Of course I didn’t!’ said Cal, sounding outraged.

‘I am training to be a rover, not a scheming politician. I did just as you did, Solar, and told them to shove a wizarding staff where it hurts, or words to that effect anyway. They might threaten us, but we’ve bested more dangerous foes in the field.

And no politician is suicidal enough to assassinate a magical student in the palace, under the king’s very nose, so close to the coronation.

King Algar would never rest until he discovered who was responsible. ’

They left the tavern and headed back up to The Rock, full of good food and in much better spirits.

Solar and Cal struck up a fast pace and soon found themselves a little ahead of the others.

They walked in silence all the way back up to their tower, increasing their lead, Solar enjoying the delicious tension of being close enough to touch.

When they reached the door to her chambers, she turned to face Cal. ‘There was one other thing that Lord Sceotend said in the cellar, something I didn’t want to mention in front of the others,’ she said, keeping her voice low.

‘Really?’ said Cal, arching an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling. ‘Something worse than his indelicate attempts to mentor you?’

‘Well,’ said Solar, not entirely sure how best to put it, ‘definitely more indelicate. He basically said that he could help me find a powerful marital match … and that I could do better than someone without … without a family.’

She hadn’t known how Cal would react, and was relieved to see him grin.

She felt a spark jolt through her, loving how just a smile could make his handsome features light up.

‘Find a powerful marital match ?’ he echoed, chuckling.

‘If you ask me, Lord Sceotend is too preoccupied with power and politics. Life has so many more things to offer. Things that are in the here and now.’ He planted each palm against the door lintel above her head.

Solar’s world shrank to the two of them.

The tiniest of gaps, charged with tension and heat, separated their two bodies.

Cal’s strong arms framed her vision to either side, leaving her with nowhere to look but directly into his eyes.

‘Things like this,’ he said, and lowered his mouth to kiss her, still smiling slightly at the corners until the moment their lips met.

Instantly, Solar forgot everything and everyone but the two of them.

She relaxed into the kiss, allowing his soft lips to coax hers open.

She stood there, hands tracing Cal’s chiselled features, almost completely absorbed in the moment, with just a quiet voice in the back of her mind dimly registering that this was exactly what she needed: an empty landing, Cal standing before her, her hands exploring his jaw, his face, his brow.

Only soon she didn’t feel herself relaxing. This kiss was different. She found herself growing hot, her breathing ragged, the tips of her fingers tingling as they roamed through Cal’s thick hair. Her body filled with a boundless energy, making her feel clumsy and almost weightless.

She used one hand to pull Cal deeper into the kiss, breathing in the scent of a man who sparred and rode and laughed. The other trailed down to the back of his neck, feeling the smooth skin and fine hairs.

She pulled him even closer, her tongue darting into his mouth. He was still braced against the lintel, leaving his entire body open for her to explore. Her hand moved to his chest, her fingertips finding the hollow of his neck. The top buttons of his shirt were undone.

Acting entirely on instinct, she dug in her nails and trailed her hand as far down his chest as his clothing would allow.

Cal made a noise that was half moan and half snarl. He removed his hands from the lintel, placing one on the small of her back and the other behind her head. He pulled her head back and lowered his mouth, trailing his tongue down her neck .

It was as if Cal had traced her skin with fire.

She steadied herself against him. She was burning with a wild energy. Heat coursed within her. Her breaths came in gasps.

Her clothing was suddenly restrictive. Too hot. Too tight. Too constraining.

Her right hand struggled frantically through Cal’s winter layers until they found his shirt.

She pulled it loose from his trousers and placed her hand on his bare skin in one clumsy, hasty movement, drinking in the smooth muscles there with her fingertips as she went in for another kiss.

Her left hand dropped to Cal’s trousers, following the perfect shape of his behind, then moving up to his waist, down to his thigh, her fingers splayed to take in all she could of him.

His belt was in the way.

His trousers were in the way.

Without thinking, without even registering, she moved her fingers to their buttons.

Cal drew an intake of breath, his mouth pulling away slightly from hers. He looked at her with an intensity she had never seen before.

She registered that he had one hand on the handle of her bedroom door. She saw the question in his eyes.

She turned to the door and closed her hand around his, marvelling at how every touch of his skin set her blood roaring in her ears.

They stood there for a few long moments, hands outstretched together.

Her breathing was still uneven, her heart still pounding. And suddenly her need to see more of Cal, to discard his irritating layers completely, to feel him, to taste every inch of him, reached a physical, unbearable threshold .

She pressed down on Cal’s hand.

Cal wrenched away with sudden speed.

He turned around and hastily began tucking in his shirt.

A moment later Solar heard the voices of Bear, Pingot, Oswald and Wyman coming up the spiral stairs. They were very near and very loud.

She opened the door, slipped inside and, through the crack, gave Cal the most meaningful glance that she could muster. The instant before the door closed shut, she glimpsed Bear reaching the landing.

Solar slid to the floor, back against the door. She heard Cal greet the others and the five of them enter their room. Gradually, across the course of an age, she felt her heart rate return to something approaching normal.

She got into her bed and wondered what Cal was thinking, or if he was engaged in conversation with the others. As she drifted off, she let her mind imagine what would have happened if they’d opened her door together. If Bear and the others had arrived only a few moments later.

In her last moments before sleep, a series of fitful images passed before her eyes.

Cal between the sheets with her, their bodies entangled.

Bear reaching the landing and seeing a flushed Cal standing before her ever-so-slightly ajar door, her friend wearing an expression of deep shock and hurt.

A lone assassin making his way into her room, looming over her bed, knife in hand and speaking in Lord Sceotend’s unctuous voice.

Solar jolted bolt upright, wide awake. She got up and padded over to where Fury lay on a chair. Then she returned to her bed, placing the sword on her bedside table, the hilt within easy reach.