Page 48 of A Fractured Song

“I wouldn’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do,” she murmured.

She saw Zev’s free hand twitch, as if wanting to circle her waist, but he didn’t do so. Still, he lowered his head, Marieke’s heart pounding erratically as Zev’s eyes flicked to her lips. She felt her own eyes start to flutter closed, but his lips were still inches from hers when his voice broke the silence, strained and low.

“I’m not free to just do what I want, Mari.”

She studied him, her gaze unflinching and her mind clear in spite of the turmoil of her emotions. “I seem to remember you telling me that you’re under no one’s control but your own.”

Zev let out an audible breath, the warmth of it washing over Marieke’s skin. “That doesn’t mean there are no constraints on me. I wish I could explain it all so it makes sense, but I can’t.” She could hear his frustration. It mirrored her own as he stepped suddenly back, releasing her hand and running his fingers through his tawny hair. “I can’t.”

Marieke’s hands fell limply to her sides as Zev turned away, dropping to one knee to gather up a blanket and pallet.

“I’ll keep watch,” he said brusquely as he stood, his arms full.

Marieke put out a hand, laying it on his arm as he moved toward the doorway.

“You need sleep, Zev. Don’t try to stay awake all night. You’ll just be useless for tomorrow’s dangers if you do.”

His arm tensed under her touch, but after a moment he gave a curt nod. “You’re right. I’ll sleep.” But it didn’t stop him from stepping through the curtain and laying his makeshift bed in the corridor. Apparently he intended any danger to at least have to come through him first.

Marieke sighed, recognizing the pointlessness of further argument. She could use privacy to gather her thoughts, anyway. Zev’s nearness had made its usual impact on both her heart rate and her peace of mind. Warmth crept over her whenshe turned and realized that he’d laid out her pallet and blanket. She didn’t doubt for a moment that he cared. Just not enough to surmount whatever barriers were keeping them apart in his mind.

Most likely the fact that his family disliked singers so much, she reflected glumly as she settled on the pallet. But surely that could be overcome with time. Surely if they got to know her, they’d see she wasn’t their enemy.

After all, Zev had been hesitant at first, but he certainly no longer saw her as an enemy. Her eyes strayed to the curtain that now separated them, her thoughts wandering back over the day. He might keep his distance in private, but where others were involved, he treated her both as an ally and as someone worth protecting.

It was ironic, because if she had her voice, she’d be much more able to protect him than the other way around. Shifting into a more comfortable position—which wasn’t saying much—she tried again to summon her song. She could feel magic in the ground, plentiful and erratic, but it wouldn’t pool to her at all this time. And try as she might, she couldn’t get any song to come out.

She didn’t even realize she’d been clearing her throat repeatedly in the attempt until Zev spoke.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she said quickly, embarrassed. “I was just checking if my song is still blocked.”

“And?”

“It is,” she sighed.

There was a moment of silence, then Zev spoke again. “That’s a shame. Your voice is beautiful when you sing.”

Marieke felt warmth rise up her cheeks, but she tried to make her tone sound nonchalant. “And here I thought you didn’t like songcraft.”

“I didn’t,” Zev said, his voice less gruff. She heard him shifting on his pallet. “That was before I met you.”

Marieke smiled into the darkness, her cheeks warm enough to drive away the chill of the stone beneath her.

Surely there was hope yet.

Chapter

Twelve

Zev hadn’t expected to be able to sleep, but he’d obviously been more exhausted than he’d realized. Neither the cold stone floor nor the tumult of emotions brought on by Marieke’s nearness had kept him from slipping into slumber. He woke not very refreshed, but instantly alert. He needed his wits about him for whatever the day would bring. He couldn’t afford to wallow in his guilt over almost kissing Marieke again.

Or his disappointment that he hadn’t followed through and done it.

He rolled up his pallet and folded his blanket, stepping quietly into the little cavern. The monarchists must use good oil in their lanterns, since the one left by the guard was still burning. For a moment he paused, studying Marieke’s face, so peaceful in sleep. Then he shook off his pensive mood and knelt beside her, gently shaking her shoulder.

“What is it?” She came awake quickly, her voice groggy. “What’s happening?”