Page 126 of A Tribute of Fire

“Then I am thankful that the goddess gifted you with a fine intellect and a desire to understand exactly what things mean and why they happen. It makes me think I should hide things from you, just so that you’ll seek me out.”

“That is not a good plan,” I told him. “I’d rather suffer in ignorance than deliberately choose to spend time in your presence.”

He held his arms wide, as if to say that I was doing just that—deliberately choosing to be with him.

Only so that you can show me the way to the docks,I wanted to protest but stayed quiet.

“And by the way, I meant you should ask me a personal question and I’ll answer it,” he said.

“There’s nothing I want to know about you.” Another lie.

“As I’ve just pointed out, that’s untrue. Your curiosity won’t allow it.”

I pressed my lips together, in an attempt to hold my tongue, but he was right. I couldn’t do it. “How did you get that scar?”

He reached up with the fingers of his right hand and traced the outline of the scar from his eye down to his chin. I found myself wanting to do it, too, and balled my hands into fists so that I wouldn’t accidentally reach for him.

“Last year I was involved with a woman who had a spiteful lover.”

Was he serious? Or teasing me? It was impossible to tell. His words hadn’t been intended to wound me, but they did. My responseinfuriated me. I didn’t want to be jealous where he was concerned, but it kept happening.

I recognized the main entrance of the city and again I was forced to repress the memories that came rushing at me. We crossed the open field and I wouldn’t let myself think of Quynh and me lining up here, the hope I’d had that we would both make it.

“Do you want to try one of the docked ships?” Jason asked, and I was grateful that he was there, that he could help me to focus on what had to be done.

“No. Let’s go to a tavern.” A man out having a good time with his fellow crew members would be easier to convince than a sober man bitter about having to stay at his post.

Jason stopped and folded his arms, widening his stance. “I won’t take you into a tavern at this time of night. Someone will insult your honor and then I’ll be forced to take his life as retribution and I’m too tired.”

“I can protect my own honor.”

He nodded. “I know. I saw. But taverns and inns are disreputable and the people who frequent them are not the kind a temple acolyte should consort with.”

“Don’t you go to places like that?”

“Exactly,” he answered with a grin.

“I’ll find a sailor on my own,” I announced. “You can go.”

I felt his hand wrap around my forearm, tugging me back. I tried to ignore the way my skin burst into flame everywhere that his fingers made contact. “Fine. If this is what you are going to do and I can’t talk you out of it, I’ll help you. I think the Golden Lamb is going to be our best bet. Follow me.”

Jason released my arm and I found myself missing and craving his touch. The sooner he went on his way, the faster I would regain my peace of mind.

At least until tomorrow night, when I fell asleep again.

We came upon a tavern that seemed to be leaning, as if the sea winds had blown against it for so long that it could no longer stay upright. The building was weathered, the edges of the roof frayed where the salt had eaten it away. The sign hanging above the door had a gold sheep painted on it. Firelight illuminated the open windows and someone was speaking loudly.

Jason reached over to me and pulled the hood up over my head. I held my breath while he put it into place. “Keep yourself covered up. I will find a reasonably sober Locrian for you.”

“Why can’t I—”

He put one finger over my lips and I was struck with the urge to draw it into my mouth. It did have the intended effect of quieting me. “If the very drunk men in this room see how beautiful you are, you will receive a great deal of unwanted attention. While I know we can fight our way clear, tonight we should try to allow everyone to keep their blood inside their bodies, where it belongs. And the best way for that to happen is for you to wait for me in the back. Can you do that?”

I nodded, my pulse thrumming inside me. He left his finger on my sensitized lips for a moment longer, briefly tracing the outer edge of my top lip before he seemed to remember himself and withdrew his hand.

Again I was left aching for him.

We went into the tavern, and I noticed an older man standing on a stool near the fireplace as he told a story to the enthralled crowd.

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