Marked For Magic Read Free

watched him over the rim. The brew she sipped tasted sweet, made from elderberries, powerful, too. The glow of it burned her throat and set a fire in her empty stomach.
    I’m hungry.
    He took a swig from his cup. “Now, so we understand each other clearly, my name is Thabit. You may call me that, or you may call me Mage if you wish. This room will be your domain.” He swept a majestic hand into the air. “I will bring bedding for you to sleep here.” He motioned toward a small alcove cut into the wall.
    She nodded and sipped again as she studied his face. His unlined smooth skin had a luminous appeal, like the heartwood of a bough. He was much younger than she first thought, though shadows of sleeplessness smudged under his eyes. His angular, sharp features, made her wonder who’d been so skilled as to carve them. Long, dark lashes enhanced his eyes. In here, his eyes shone like a cat’s in the gloom.
    “I hope you’re listening?”
    Startled to attention, she gave another quick nod. How had she let her mind wander to his face? He must think her a fool.
    “I sleep in the room upstairs. After a night vigil, I often sleep through the day. My workshop is on the top floor. You will not go up to the top floor of the tower unless I say you may. You will not enter the workshop for any reason without me. Do you understand?”
    “Yes,” she answered. A new tremble lodged in her leg. She crossed the other over and squeezed to still the movement.
    “Good. At the back of the house is a vegetable garden. You will prepare meals from what grows there. Meat will not be cooked in this house.”
    She gawped.
    “Yes, only vegetables, pulses, and herbs will go in the pot. I do not eat meat. Flesh smothers the mind and dulls the senses. If you wish to remain here, you, too, will neither cook nor eat it.”
    She couldn’t care less what she ate if only he would feed her, but he offered naught. What other strange ways would he reveal? She clamped her mouth shut.
    “The well is in the yard, and over the rise there is a stream where you may bathe.” He glanced at her gown. “See you do. There, you can also wash clothes.” This time, his slow gaze followed his words.
    She glanced down at her soiled, mud-streaked skirt.
    “In the yard is a bread oven,” he continued. “I’ve never fired it, but after you clean it, I am sure you can.”
    Her irritation niggled, shaving scraps off her fear. Did he think she knew nothing?
    “Do you wish to ask me anything?”
    Oh, yes, so very many things. Instead,she shook her head, for she did not trust her tongue to be wise in the asking.
    “Very well, we’ve had a good beginning. I will work until dusk. When I come down, I shall expect a meal.” He got up from his seat, put the cup on the table, and swept through the doorway to the stairs.
    The wine, warm in her stomach, sparked her hunger as she looked at her new home. “Gods, help me, where do I start?”
     
     

Chapter 2
     
    Once Nin no longer heard his tread on the stairs, she opened the heavy black drapes. A shaft of light hit the table to reveal a collection of pot marks. Smears of grease shone with rainbow colors. Beyond, sat the hearth, not cleaned in months, maybe years, judging by the pile of cinders, soot, and ash. Cobwebs hung high in the corners where the spiders didn’t feel the heat of his low fire. The flagstone floor resembled the one in the village barn. Uncertain she’d made a good bargain to stay here, she stood and moved to the cupboard to look for a cleaning rag to begin work.
    Behind the loose door of the cupboard he’d opened, she found two more of the large wine jugs. She corked the one still on the table before putting it back with the others. The depth of the cupboard made it impossible to see what lay at the back. She closed the door, uncertain of what she might find should she slide her hand deeper into the darkness.
    Beside the cupboard stood a door with a black metal latch that squeaked when she lifted