6

Fourthday, 7 Plowing, 958

Larine’s legs were leaden, her feet as heavy as boulders as she dragged herself up the steps of the Mother’s Hall. Flutter huddled against her neck, as exhausted as she was. The other wizards and familiars straggling home with them were equally spent.

The fire had blazed through a whole block of apartment buildings before the Watch and the people who flocked to help were able to contain it. Dozens of people were already dead when the wizards arrived. More had died while they were healing others. A few had been so horribly consumed by the flames that the Mother’s power could do nothing to relieve their agony but ease them gently into the Mother’s presence. Some of those had been children.

Nightmare images burned in Larine’s mind. She wanted to stuff enough food into her mouth to refuel her depleted body, drink enough wine to numb her overwhelmed brain, and fall into Shiar’s arms. She’d spotted his ship at the dock as they passed. Maybe the long night of sex he always wanted when he returned from a voyage would be enough to drive the horrors she’d witnessed out of her head for a little while.

She was only a few steps inside the door of the Hall when strong hands seized her. “Why weren’t you at the dock to meet me?”

She sagged against him, too tired to guard her words. “There was a fire. We’ve been out since early this morning. It was awful, Shiar. You can’t imagine. The smoke, the stench, the screams…” She shuddered. “We saved as many as we could, but there were so many we couldn’t.”

He patted her back awkwardly. “That sounds rough.” He pulled away, eyeing her soaked, sooty, filthy state with distaste. “You probably want to get cleaned up.”

“Yes.” She knew better than to expect much show of sympathy from him, but she’d hoped for a few more minutes of contact with his body, at least. Surely he wouldn’t deny her that after she’d visited the bath for a good scrubbing. She could hardly blame him for not wanting to be near her when she must look horrible and smell worse. It would disgust her, too.

She accepted the meat pie one of the apprentices pressed into her hand and stumbled upstairs to the bath. She felt a bit better after devouring it, and much better, at least physically, after soaping and rinsing several times. She wished Dabiel were there so they could scrub each other’s backs and pour water to rinse each other’s hair the way they often did, but she’d insisted on staying to assist Master Idan while he supervised the last of the wizards’ work, arranged for burial of the bodies, and organized the folk who would clean up and start rebuilding. Larine had been only too glad to flee when the Guildmaster released her.

Larine was yawning by the time she finished washing Flutter and helping him smooth his feathers into place. She was tempted to skip eating anything else and go straight to bed, but her familiar refused to leave her side, and she couldn’t let him go hungry. So she trudged downstairs and joined the other ravenous wizards.

Shiar sat across from her as she dug into her meal, regaling her with stories of his voyage. Larine was glad he didn’t expect her to talk. She savored his brief account of his visit with her family and the news of what was happening in their lives. She had a new niece since the last time his ship had called in Gemgeda. Shiar didn’t remember the baby’s name, but he passed her the letters her family had entrusted to him. Larine tucked them in a pocket to read later and let her mind drift as Shiar spoke enthusiastically and at great length about the glowing report Master Del had given him at his year-end review. If he earned the highest honors again next year, he’d qualify to start captaincy training as soon as he made master. He could have his own ship in as little as five years.

“Think about what that would mean for us. I could buy you a dozen new tunics a year from the best tailors. We could eat at restaurants every night while I’m in port. We could afford to rent a house, or even buy one, instead of having to live at the Hall.”

Larine nodded and made a vague sound of approval, keeping her eyes fixed on her food. Shiar was always talking about moving out of the Hall. Larine had told him many times she’d rather not. She hated the idea of spending most of her nights in an empty house, alone except for Flutter, while he was at sea. She liked having her fellow wizards nearby while she slept. She liked the camaraderie of communal meals and the convenience of living so near her work. She liked their cozy room with its view of the river and docks. It was plenty big enough for the two of them.

Shiar never listened when she argued, but Larine had discovered he wouldn’t do anything to pursue the goal he claimed to want, either. As long as she agreed to whatever he said but left the actual task of searching for a new home to him, she could continue to enjoy the arrangement she favored while keeping the peace. Every now and then he nagged her to use some of her free time to speak to a trader and look at houses, but for the most part he was content to spin fantasies about their future without working to make them real.

Larine drained her third cup of wine. It had produced the desired effect—she felt pleasantly tipsy, the terrible events of the day softened into a hazy blur. When Shiar paused for breath, she gave him her best seductive smile. “I’m ready to go upstairs. How about you?”

He eyed her hungrily, but shrugged. “I was planning to stay and enjoy the music for a while.”

Larine glanced at the hearth, where Semira was tuning her lute. She was too tired to sustain the level of enthusiasm Hanion’s wife expected. That sweet voice could say vicious things about anyone who didn’t sufficiently appreciate her talent. So far Larine had escaped her vitriol, but she’d heard it directed at others often enough, always with a tone of baffled, hurt confusion, accompanied by innocent flutters of Semira’s lashes and punctuated by her musical laugh. It was a shame, because she didn’t need to play those kind of games to win recognition for her gifts. She was widely acclaimed as the best soprano the Singers’ Guild had produced in a generation.

Hanion was blind to her faults, of course. Larine knew better than to approach him, but others had. He’d staunchly defended his wife, and they’d suffered Semira’s retaliation afterward.

Shiar watched her expectantly. He hated it when she didn’t go along with his whims, but surely tonight she could persuade him. She stifled a yawn. “Doesn’t bed sound better? I’ve been looking forward to you getting home all week. Even with all the energy I burned today, I have enough left to give you a good homecoming.”

He looked away. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later.”

Larine was getting desperate. If she came downstairs bleary-eyed and droopy tomorrow morning, people would notice. She could get in trouble. The Law required wizards to take care of their basic needs so they would have sufficient energy to serve their patients. That was easy enough when Shiar was away, but difficult when he was at home.

She had to try to make him understand. “I can’t stay up too late. If I don’t get enough sleep, Master Tasha will get upset.” Larine gave him a teasing grin, trying to wake answering amusement in his eyes, but they remained stubbornly unresponsive. “Last time you were in town she threatened to tell Flutter to chaperone us if we couldn’t restrain ourselves.”

He glowered. “I hope you told her to stay out of our business.”

“Of course I didn’t. She’s my master! And she was right. I need sleep if I’m going to be able to function as a wizard.”

Shiar’s eyes went cold. “And I need time with my wife.”

“Of course you do. I need time with you, too. So let’s go upstairs before it gets too late.” Larine’s eyes blurred, and she blinked hard. “I’ve missed you so much. I don’t want to fight. I want you to hold me. Let’s not wait, please? I need you.”

She’d gone too far, she saw. Her stomach clenched at the anger in his narrowed eyes and flared nostrils. He looked her up and down slowly before turning deliberately away. “I’m going to listen to the music. You go upstairs. I’ll come when I’m ready.”

“No, I’m sorry, I’ll stay, Semira is always worth listening to—”

He cut her off with a curt gesture. “Go. After all, you need your sleep.”

Larine rose, her legs trembling so badly she was afraid they wouldn’t hold her. “All right. Good-night.” She tried a tremulous smile. “If I fall asleep, you’re welcome to wake me up.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He scowled. “Just make sure that hawk of yours isn’t watching when I come in.”

Larine glanced up to where Flutter was perched on a rafter, tearing into his fourth mouse of the night. “I will.”

Shiar dismissed her with a jerk of his head. She plodded toward the door, her heart heavy. Flutter, can you stay down here tonight? I don’t know how late it will be when Shiar comes up, and you know he doesn’t like it when you’re in the room.

He paused and peered down at her. If I have to. I don’t want to intrude. But I don’t like spending the whole night away.

If you’re awake, I’ll call you when we’re done.

His thoughts were unhappy, but accepting. All right.

Larine dragged her weary body up to their room on the third floor. She missed Flutter’s sleepy presence on his perch. She missed Shiar’s warm body next to her in the cold bed. Why had he made such a big deal of such a small disagreement? He obviously wanted her as much as she wanted him. Why was he so stubborn, when he suffered for it just as much as she did?

Hard as she tried to resist, exhaustion overcame her, and she sank into restless sleep. The images she’d tried to bury leapt from their graves, more gruesome than ever. Red blood and white bone and black, charred flesh. The rich scent of roasted meat, waking rumbles in her starved belly even though she knew its source. A mouth with no lips or tongue screaming. Lidless, sightless eyes begging her for death. Life fading to awful cold nothingness when she gave it.

A hot weight descended on her. She struggled to free herself from the burning, collapsing ruins, until lips and tongue invaded her mouth and she recognized her husband’s taste. Sobbing in relief, she dragged herself free of the nightmare and clung to him. Finally, he was here where she wanted him, loving her with fierce ardor, demanding the surrender she was eager to give. She would have preferred him to go slower and be less rough, but she didn’t care, as long as he gave her what she’d hungered for so long.

It was over too soon. She stroked his forehead and cheek, teasing her fingers through his hair. “Welcome home.”

He grunted, but gave her a perfunctory caress before he rolled over. “G’night.”

Larine snuggled against his back. She reached for Flutter’s mind, but it was shrouded in sleep. Just as well. Shiar would probably want more before morning. She hoped next time would be longer and more satisfying, but it didn’t really matter. They were together. She’d do her best not to anger him again so they could enjoy the all too brief time they had before his ship sailed.

Shiar slammed his cup on the table. “Fine! If it doesn’t matter to you, it doesn’t matter to me.” He shoved the bench back and rose, ignoring the mutters of those he’d jostled. “I’ll stay out of your way. I don’t want to interfere with your important work.” He stormed out of the dining hall.

Larine stared at her plate, her face burning, acutely aware of the stares of everyone in the hall. She pretended nothing unusual had happened until they turned away. When the normal murmur of conversation resumed, she tried to finish eating her breakfast, but it held all the appeal of sand and rocks. She pushed the eggs around on her plate, loath to waste them, but unable to force them down.

Dabiel plopped onto the bench beside her, setting her plate on the table. “What was that about?”

Larine shrugged. “I couldn’t get out of emergency duty this afternoon. Nobody was willing to trade weeks. Shiar wanted to go to the beach, now that it’s warm enough.”

Her friend scowled after him. “He didn’t have to shout about it.”

Larine made a carefully indifferent gesture. “He was disappointed. I promised him it would be no trouble to switch. Usually it’s not. I’m not happy about it, either. I was really looking forward to swimming and getting some sun.”

“Still, it’s hardly fair for him to get upset about your work keeping you apart for a day, when his takes him away for months at a time.”

Larine laughed ruefully, trying to convey good-natured exasperation instead of the bleakness she really felt. “He’s been moody lately. I think being ashore too long gets to him. With the extended break for Springtide, he’s impatient to get back to sea. But he doesn’t want to admit that to me, because it would seem like he’s tired of being with me, when that’s not it at all. He’s just too much of a sailor to be happy on land.”

Dabiel nodded thoughtfully. “I guess you know him best. Maybe you could volunteer to make the circuit to Gemgeda again, so you’ll have a few weeks together on his ship.”

“I’ve requested to be assigned the next open slot, but they’re full for more than a year. Everyone likes the sailing circuits best. It’s fun to get out of the Hall without having to walk the whole way.” Larine was glad Dabiel had been too busy to witness Shiar’s other outbursts. She might not accept the excuse so readily if she realized he’d been losing his temper on a regular basis ever since he’d gotten back from his last voyage. They always had a few arguments while he was in the city, but this time had been worse than usual. Larine had questioned Shiar as much as she could without annoying him, but had failed to discover the reason.

Dabiel took a big bite of bacon, chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed. She poked her eggs with her fork. “Master Idan wants me to do the long circuit for my masterwork.”

Larine blinked. “He really is training you to be Guildmaster.”

“I think so.” Dabiel stared into the distance. “He insists I attend every meeting of the Council of Guildmasters with him, too. Afterwards we talk over what happened, the issues, the personalities, the debate. He tells me about the techniques he uses to encourage thorough discussion that results in a consensus everyone can agree to. He’s very subtle, but I’m starting to notice when he does. Do you know that something as simple as which way you angle your body can guide the conversation? There are a few guildmasters who would ramble on for hours if he let them, but when he turns his shoulders away from them toward one of the ones who hang back, the talkers shut up without him having to say a word, and the quiet ones speak up.” Her face glowed with enthusiasm.

“See, that proves you’re Guildmaster material. That sort of thing fascinates you. It would bore me silly.”

Dabiel shrugged with an abashed look. “Maybe. It will be a long time before Master Idan’s ready to retire, though. Which is a good thing, because I’ve got a lot to learn. He makes it look easy and natural, but it’s not.”

They both ate for a while without talking. When Larine’s plate was nearly empty, Dabiel broke the silence. “If I do go on the long circuit, I’ll need another journeyman to go with me. There’s no one I’d rather spend a year on the road with than you.”

Larine put her fork down, the bacon and eggs turning to rocks in her stomach. “I can’t be away from Shiar that long.”

Dabiel shrugged, not quite meeting Larine’s eyes. “I figured that’s what you’d say. But really, it would only be the few weeks between his voyages that you’d miss. Both of you would be that much happier to be back together when we got home. And think how much fun it would be, the two of us traveling around Tevenar together.”

Longing gripped Larine’s heart. She would love to spend a year traveling with Dabiel. She’d love to see the far reaches of Tevenar, the northern forests and western mountains and southern plains. She’d love to bring the Mother’s power to people who lived far from any Hall and seldom experienced its blessings. But it was impossible. She stared at her plate. “He’d never agree.” Quickly she added, “And even if he did, I wouldn’t want to. We’ve got so little time together, I don’t want to miss any of it.”

“Think about it, though. It’s not for three more years. Maybe by that time you’ll be ready for a break from him.”

Larine went cold. “What do you mean by that?”

Her voice must have been sharper than she’d intended, because Dabiel jerked back. “Nothing.” She hesitated, then spoke carefully. “It’s just that… you never seem very happy when he’s in port. Not like I would expect you to be when you’re with the man you love.”

Larine clenched her fists. “Marriage isn’t all sunshine and flowers. It’s hard work. Being apart so much makes it even harder for us than for most people, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

“I’m sure that’s true. But aren’t you supposed to get something in return for your efforts?”

Larine grabbed her plate and stood up. “I do. I don’t expect you to understand, but I get far more from Shiar than I give.”

“Fine, I believe you.” Dabiel held up her hands.

“Then stop poking into things that are none of your business.”

“Of course.” Dabiel tossed the last of her toast to Buttons, who snatched it from the air like a dog, and fell in beside Larine as she hurried to deposit her plate with the dirty dishes. “Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

“I will.”

“You’ve got to do something for your masterwork, after all. Have you given it any thought yet?”

Larine welcomed the change of subject. “Actually, I have. There’s a disease that affects babies in Gemgeda sometimes, especially the ones born in fall or winter. They get weak and fussy and don’t grow well. The few times wizards have looked into it, they haven’t been able to cure it, or even figure out what was wrong. Just that something is missing the Mother’s power can’t supply. I’d like to do an in-depth study to see if I can discover the cause, and maybe even a treatment.”

“That sounds like a valuable project.” Dabiel grinned. “And a good excuse to travel to Gemgeda. You’d get your time at sea with Shiar.”

“I’ve certainly considered that.” Larine smiled back, trying to convey a light, teasing attitude.

Dabiel gave an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose I can find someone else to make the circuit with me. You’re not my only friend.” Her expression softened. “Just my best one.”

Larine blinked hard and looked away. “Always.”

Dabiel gave her a quick hug. “I want my best friend to be happy. I’ll support you in whatever you do, even if I’d rather you chose something different.”

“Thanks.” Larine pulled away, her throat too tight to say anything else.

“We’d better hurry if we want to get decent seats for the service. It’s Master Adra’s turn to lead, and you know she always lets it drag on past noon. I don’t want to get stuck on a stool or bench with no back.”

Larine nodded and followed her into the Hall.

A full week passed before Larine gathered the courage to broach the subject with Shiar. He’d been cold the whole time, speaking to her only when necessary and as briefly as possible. He was reasonably civil in public, but in their room at night he ignored her except when he wanted sex. Larine treasured those all-too-short interactions and worked hard to please him. Surely he’d get over his annoyance eventually if she showed him how much she loved him.

Now that they were finally enjoying their Restday afternoon at the beach, it seemed to have worked. He smiled and laughed and joked with her as if he’d never been angry. His eyes admired her body in the short breeches and laced vest she’d had made over the winter and saved to reveal on their first day swimming. The weather was a bit chilly for the skimpy outfit to be comfortable, the sharp wind cutting into her exposed flesh and the frigid water shocking the breath out of her, but the heat in his eyes more than compensated for her shivers and goosebumps.

After a long time swimming and playing in the surf, they spread out a blanket and lay together, basking in the spring sunshine. Larine closed her eyes and listened to the rush of the waves and the cheerful voices of a group of children building a sand city nearby. Shiar’s breathing was deep and even, his body relaxed. He’d never be more receptive.

She kept her voice light and casual. “I’ve been thinking… I’ve never seen more of Tevenar than Elathir and Gemgeda. Master Tasha says it would be good for me to travel another circuit or two before I make master.”

Shiar’s body tensed against hers. Larine hurried to continue. “The Jevtaran loop only takes two months. I could do it during one of your voyages north.”

He relaxed. “I suppose it would be good for you to spend more time away from your master. You’re not an apprentice anymore.”

“That’s what I thought.” She took a deep breath. “And if you take a position on one of the long fishing expeditions the way you’ve talked about, I would have time to make the Thedan loop while you were gone.”

His reply was longer in coming this time, but when it did, his voice remained thoughtful. “I guess that could work. Maybe next summer? Master Del would be willing to recommend me to the master fishers she knows, but it’s too late to make the arrangements for this year.”

“There’s no rush. Next year would be good.”

He rolled onto his side and propped himself on one elbow, reaching to stroke her hair. “I’d miss you, being gone so long, but I suppose it would be worth it. I really do want to serve on a long voyage. It’s something the guild looks for when they’re choosing captain candidates and assigning ships.”

Thank the Mother, it was working. He was receptive. Larine feigned idle wistfulness. “What I’d really love is to make the long circuit. But that’s out of the question, of course. I’d never want to be away from you for a whole year.”

His breath quickened and his muscles tensed, but he didn’t erupt into the anger Larine had feared even so cautious a mention might provoke. “Yes. Out of the question.”

Larine sighed. “Dabiel’s probably going to do it as her masterwork. She asked if I’d come with her, but I said no.”

Shiar’s fingers tangled in her hair, tugging it a bit harder than Larine liked. “Good.”

“Of course, that will be three years from now. Who knows? By that time we won’t be newlyweds anymore. It might not seem as terrible to be apart that long as it does now. She asked me to keep an open mind, just in case.”

“No.” Shiar’s voice was cold and furious. Larine opened her eyes to find him looming over her, staring down. “If you can even consider abandoning me for a whole year, obviously you’re not as committed to our marriage as I am. Maybe we should call it off now, if that’s what you want.”

She gaped at him, shocked by his sudden transformation, even though it was exactly what she’d feared. “What are you talking about? Of course I’m committed to our marriage! I told you, I turned Dabiel down.”

His lip curled into a sneer. “Do you think I don’t see how it is? If you wanted Dabiel, you should have married her, not me. Break our bond, if you’ve decided it means nothing to you. But I won’t tolerate you having a lover on the side.”

The attack was so unexpected Larine could do nothing but sputter for long moments while he glared. Finally, she forced words out. “That’s ridiculous! I’m not attracted to women, and Dabiel’s not attracted to anyone. We’re friends, that’s all.”

“Friends.” His voice dripped with scorn.

Larine struggled to sit up, reaching for him. “I’ve never looked at anyone else since we stood up together.” She banished a twisting worm of guilt. She only watched Hanion when he sat alone by the fire, hurt and confused by Semira’s fickle games, his loneliness an ache in her gut. That wasn’t the same as looking.

Shiar brushed off her grasp and rose, powerful and majestic. He glowered down at her like a towering thunderhead. “You’re mine, Larine. Completely, or not at all. If I’m not enough for you, give the word, and we can sign the papers tomorrow.”

Dear Mother, how had things gone so wrong so fast? Larine scrambled to her feet. “I don’t want to break our bond! What have I ever done to give you the idea I want anyone except you? I don’t understand why you’re saying these things.”

She threw her arms around his neck, pressing her body against him. He didn’t respond, but he didn’t shove her away, either. “I love you, Shiar. Please believe that. I need you. I’ll do anything you want. Just promise you won’t leave me.”

He was silent for a long time. As Larine was beginning to despair that she’d ruined everything, he spoke, his tone curt and clipped. “No circuits.”

“None. I swear.”

“You’ll be waiting to welcome me at the dock whenever my ship comes in. No matter what else happens.”

“I promise.”

“You’ll cut off all contact with Dabiel. Unless your masters require you to work together, you won’t speak to her. You won’t sit with her at meals or socialize in your free time. I have friends who’ll see if you do and tell me.”

She gaped at him. “Why—”

“I mean it!”

Larine flinched. Ice flooded her heart at the thought of betraying Dabiel, but her marriage was more important than their friendship. “I will. I swear.”

“In the Mother’s name.”

“In the Mother’s name,” she whispered.

Finally his arms went around her waist and his body softened against hers. He bent to murmur in her ear. “Oh, Larine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. But when you talked about being apart for a year as if it was nothing, it was like I didn’t even know you any more. I couldn’t see how the woman I married could suggest such a thing. I had to be sure you still feel the same way about me as I’ve always felt about you.”

“I do. I always have. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I never considered it seriously, you know that. I just didn’t want to disappoint Dabiel.”

“That’s not something you have to worry about anymore.” He bent to kiss her, tender and hungry. “I know things have been strained since I got home. I was excited when we were sailing back. I was ready to ask you something, something I knew would make you happy. But then you weren’t there. And I kept getting hints that you didn’t care anymore, not the way I do. How could I be anything but suspicious? It’s good that’s all out in the open, now. If you do the things you promised, our marriage will be stronger than ever.”

Larine searched his face. “What were you going to ask me?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think this is a good time. Maybe after my next voyage, when you’ve had time to think things over and recommit yourself to our future together.”

Her heart pounded. “I am committed. Tell me, please. What do you want?”

He cupped her cheek. “I want to start a family, Larine. Until I got here, I was sure that’s what you wanted, too. Now, though, with things so awkward between us, maybe we should wait.”

Deep, primal longing wrenched Larine’s gut. “No, please. Let’s do it now. I’ve been thinking about having a baby ever since we got married, but I thought you weren’t ready.”

“I wasn’t before, but now I am.” He linked his hands behind her back and pulled her close. “How long would it take to reverse the effects of whatever you’ve been doing with the Mother’s power?”

Joy and apprehension made a dizzy combination. “Give me a little while with Flutter and I can be fertile tonight.” She’d explained how she used the Mother’s power to control her cycles, but she wasn’t surprised he hadn’t retained the information. “We could have a baby nine months from now.”

“During my leave between the autumn and winter voyages.”

“If the timing works out that way.”

“You can make sure it does, can’t you?”

Usually it was frowned on to manipulate a healthy pregnancy for convenience’s sake, but surely Flutter would be willing to tweak things so their child could be born while its father was present. “If we have to.”

“Good.” He crushed her close, then let her go. “In that case, let’s head back so you’ll have time to do what you need to.”

Larine scrambled to shake the sand from the blanket and fold it while Shiar gathered the rest of their things. Hand in hand they walked back to the city. Larine’s mind and heart buzzed with nervous excitement. She’d been wistfully thinking about a baby for so long, watching the pregnant women she tended with envy, cooing over the newborns with hopeless longing. She’d never guessed Shiar might feel the same way. This was a wonderful surprise.

Surely once they had a child they’d quit letting these petty disagreements come between them. They’d focus on working together to wrap their little boy or girl in love and security. Shiar’s absences would be a challenge, of course, but other sailors and fishers did it all the time. While the child was an infant, Larine could keep it with her while she worked. Later she could find someone in a similar situation to exchange half-days with, and Shiar could take full days when he was in port. By seven or eight, their child could accompany Shiar on voyages occasionally.

Flutter came swiftly from his hunting at her call. After a trip to the bath to wash off the salt and sand, Larine spent a good long time with him, flooding her body with the Mother’s golden light, moving her cycle forward from where they usually kept it until it was hovering on the brink of releasing the infinitesimal seed of life, ripe and ready to welcome a newly conceived child. Shiar didn’t require any attention; there’d been no need to suppress both of their fertility, and Larine had been controlling her cycles to eliminate her monthly bleeding since she and Flutter first bonded.

He met her in the dining hall for the evening meal, fresh from his own bath, so strong and handsome her throat ached. He was unusually attentive, smiling and laughing and chatting with her, exercising all the charm that had first attracted her, but which she’d seen less and less since they’d married.

This time he was happy to accompany her upstairs immediately after the meal. They enjoyed a long, unhurried evening of lovemaking. Shiar took extra care to make sure Larine was satisfied. Her heart sang with joy at this evidence that he really did love her. They’d uncovered the root of the misunderstanding that had upset him and solved the problem that had been pushing them apart. Now they could go forward into a happy, fulfilling future together. This child would bond them more deeply than mere words or promises or ceremony. They would be a family as close and devoted as the one Larine had grown up in. Their troubles were behind them, their best days ahead.

She fell asleep cradling her belly, dreaming of life and hope.

Larine closed her eyes and pressed her hands over her mouth, fighting to control her rebellious stomach. The nausea had hit fast and hard this time. She’d felt fine, tired and hungry, until the person next to her had passed her the platter of roast beef. The rich smell she usually would have savored provoked a violent reaction. It was all Larine could do to get it into the next person’s hands without vomiting. She thought she could recover if she sat for a few minutes without moving, but if the nausea didn’t abate soon she would have to flee to the privy.

“There you are!” Dabiel’s voice was cheerful and too loud. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Why are you sitting way over here?” The bench shook as she plopped down beside Larine. A moment of silence, then, “Dear Mother, Lar, what’s the matter? Here, let us help you.”

Tingling warmth flooded Larine. It helped, but only a little. That’s why she hadn’t bothered to call Flutter away from his meal. The Mother’s power couldn’t do much for pregnancy sickness.

Larine heard the indrawn breath when Dabiel figured it out. With a final soothing caress, the glow faded. Her friend’s voice was shocked and a bit hurt. “So that’s why you’ve been tired all the time lately. Master Tasha was so worried about you, she asked me if I knew what was wrong. I had to say I didn’t. Why didn’t you tell her? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Larine’s stomach clenched again. She’d been avoiding this confrontation for a month, ever since Shiar’s ship had sailed. Master Idan had been keeping Dabiel so busy, at first it had been easy to find excuses to keep their interactions brief and impersonal. But for the last week it had gotten harder and harder to evade Dabiel’s attempts to engage her in conversation. Larine wasn’t sure if Shiar had been telling the truth about having friends who would report whether she obeyed him regarding Dabiel, but she didn’t dare gamble that he’d been lying. She couldn’t imagine any of her fellow wizards carrying tales, but there were spouses and friends and guests at the tables, as well.

She shrugged and kept her voice carefully noncommittal. “I didn’t think you’d be interested. You’ve said often enough that you don’t want children.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you! I know this is what you wanted. I’m happy for you.” Dabiel was striving to sound normal, but Larine could hear the confused pain underneath her words.

She couldn’t force herself to meet Dabiel’s eyes. “It’s just… we have so little in common these days. I’m married, and I’m going to be a mother. You’re giving all your time to studying with Master Idan. If he intends to name you as his successor, that’s only going to get worse.”

“I won’t let it keep me from having time for my best friend.” Dabiel strove to catch Larine’s gaze, her smile seeking a response. When she failed, it faded.

Larine turned away. “There’s a group of sailors’ and fishers’ spouses that meet for the midday meal most days. A lot of them have young children. I’ve become good friends with several of the women; they’ve been telling me about what to expect from pregnancy and birth.”

“That’s good. You need friends who’ve been through it. I bet it makes the whole thing less scary.”

“Yes.” Larine reached for a platter of vegetables. She thought she could keep them down. Having a little food in her stomach seemed to be the most effective defense against the nausea. She scooped a spoonful onto her plate. “One of them highly recommends her midwife. She’s going with me to meet her next Thirdday morning, if I can persuade Master Tasha to let me have a couple hours off.”

“I’m sure she will, once she knows.”

“So, anyway, I don’t think I’m going to have much time to spend with you from now on. It’s nothing personal. We’re just following different paths. We should both make new friends who share the things we care about.”

“If that’s what you want.” Dabiel pulled away. The coldness in her eyes and voice struck Larine to the heart. “I would think the fact we’re both wizards should be more than enough in common to sustain our friendship, no matter how much else is different. But obviously you don’t feel the same way. And I’m not going to force myself where I’m not wanted.”

“I’m glad you understand.” Larine stabbed a chunk of carrot and shoved it in her mouth.

“Except I don’t!” Dabiel leaned forward, her brow furrowed, searching Larine’s face. “Everything was fine until last month. Of course, while Shiar was here it made sense that you’d want to spend your free time with him, but I thought things would go back to normal after he sailed.” She scowled for a moment, then her eyes went wide. “That’s it, isn’t it? What did he say to turn you against me? He’s never liked me, you know that, not since that first trip to Gemgeda. Surely you don’t believe whatever he told you?”

Larine forced the half-chewed carrot down her throat. “He didn’t tell me anything. You’re wrong.”

“You wouldn’t admit it if I’m right.” Dabiel drew back. “I’ve kept quiet out of respect for you and your marriage. Your choices are your own, and it’s not my place to interfere with your private business. But I’ve worried about you ever since you married Shiar. I don’t like the way he treats you. I never have. He manipulates and controls you, and you don’t even see it. Now he’s cutting you off from the people who care about you. Master Idan is teaching me about counseling, and those are the sorts of things abusive spouses do.”

Hot anger tightened Larine’s throat. “Don’t you dare insult my husband. Shiar wouldn’t dream of hurting me.”

“I hope you’re right. But I’m scared you’re not.” Dabiel chewed on her lip. “Please, Larine, if he ever crosses the line, ask for help. From Master Tasha or Master Idan or any other wizard, if you can’t come to me. You know the Law doesn’t let us look for proof if you don’t ask.”

“Thank the Mother for that!” Larine shoved the bench back and stood up. “She made that Law to protect people. She knew wizards would pry into things that are none of their concern if she didn’t forbid it. Nobody has any right to spy on what goes on between Shiar and me, especially not you! You’ve always been jealous of him. Because right from the first he liked me better than you. And because I like him better than you.”

Dabiel scrambled to her feet. “Believe that if you want to. And if he told you to stay away from me, you don’t have to worry about him getting angry. Because as far as I’m concerned, our friendship is over.” She glared at Larine.

Larine glared back. “Good.” She turned her back and walked away.

She managed to maintain a dignified pace until she passed through the doors into the main Hall. As soon as they swung shut behind her she broke into a run. Even so, she barely made it outside to the midden before the nausea overcame her and she vomited until nothing was left to come up.

Master Jaina wiped Larine’s forehead with a cool, damp cloth. “You’re doing beautifully, dear. Not much longer now. A few more pushes like that and he’ll be out.”

Larine nodded, too tired to speak. As soon as Jaina finished her ministrations, Larine dropped her head onto her arms and closed her eyes, waiting for the next contraction to seize control of her body. Her knees hurt from kneeling so long. Maybe she should ask the midwife to help her move to a new position. But before she could, the pressure in her belly began to build, and she braced herself against the bed.

Pushing felt far better than the earlier contractions had. She released control of her body to the instinctive, overpowering urge. For long minutes it forced her muscles to strain, pressing the baby a few inches farther through the gap in her bones. Finally it relented, and she panted for breath.

Are you sure you’re all right? Flutter huddled on the bed by her head, preening stray strands of hair out of her face. Are you sure you don’t need me to use the Mother’s power to help you?

Master Jaina says it’s better if we don’t, as long as things are going well. The Mother made my body to do this. Larine tried to believe it. She’d observed normal births as part of her training, and assisted many women when midwives brought them to the Hall with various problems, but it was different doing it herself.

Flutter pressed his cheek against hers. I’m right here if you need me.

Deep gratitude for her familiar’s supportive presence carried her through the next contraction. Master Jaina sounded pleased. “He crowned that time. Shiar, do you want to see?”

His deep voice rumbled from across the room. “I’ll wait.”

Larine wished he was better at helping her, but it wasn’t in his nature. Earlier he’d walked one circuit of the corridors with her, letting her lean on him during contractions, but when they arrived back at their door he’d turned her over to Master Jaina and excused himself, claiming a need to visit the privy. Later he’d rubbed her lower back for a while, his strong hands easing her pain, but before long he’d pled hunger and escaped to the dining hall. Master Jaina was a constant solid support, her confident patience seemingly inexhaustible, but Larine wanted her husband.

She consoled herself with the thought of his joy when his son was placed in his arms. She’d been pleased when the Mother’s power had revealed the child’s sex. Larine didn’t care either way, but she was sure Shiar would relate better to a boy than a girl. Maybe their next child would be a daughter. It would be easier for him after he had some experience as a father.

Another contraction gripped her, long and hard. Something stretched, and something popped. Jaina’s voice was warm and calm. “His head’s out. Would you like to feel?”

Larine nodded and reached between her legs. Her fingers met a hard curve. She rubbed its rough wet texture, wondering amazement filling her, as bright and golden as the Mother’s power. “He’s got hair.”

“Lots of it,” Master Jaina confirmed. “Are you all right there, or do you want to move?”

The midwife had told Larine that kneeling was a good position for pushing. Other than her knees, she felt fine. She shook her head.

“Shiar, are you sure you don’t want to catch? This is your last chance to change your mind.”

Shiar’s reply was lost in the rush of Larine’s pulse as the contraction gathered. She put both hands on the bed and tucked her chin into her chest, pushing with all her strength, deep in the grip of her body’s relentless demand. An aching, burning stretch and a long slither, and suddenly it was over.

“Shiar, help her turn around.” Larine dropped her head onto the bed and waited the long seconds until his hands and arms eased her around to sit on the floor. Jaina pressed something heavy and warm and wet into her arms. “Your son.”

Larine gazed into wide dark eyes in a red-streaked face. She stared, wonderstruck. The baby blinked and stared back. When Jaina wiped his mouth with a cloth, he squirmed and protested with a loud cry, but when she withdrew he went back to earnest contemplation of his mother’s face.

Shiar reached one big finger to stroke their child’s cheek. “He’s so small.”

“Rather large for a newborn, actually,” Jaina said. Her skilled gaze studied the baby, then moved to rake Larine. “He’s breathing well, and his color is good. Take as long as you like to get acquainted.” She tucked a blanket around the two of them.

The next hour passed in a happy daze. Larine couldn’t get enough of looking at her son, touching him, smelling him. Shiar stayed at their side, displaying all the pleasure and pride Larine had hoped for. The baby turned his head, and waved his arms, and kicked his feet, each movement unbearably endearing. His head bobbed, his lips opening and closing, so Larine offered him her breast. He seized it eagerly, sucking with a single-minded vigor that made Shiar laugh. Larine winced at first, but the initial discomfort soon passed. Jaina assured her that meant he was latching well. Larine felt drunk on emotion and sensation, every sense heightened, every word and gesture imbued with profound significance.

Flutter hopped to her shoulder and peered at the child. A big, strong chick.

He is. Larine leaned her head against her familiar, sharing her joy and savoring his sturdy protective approval. You’ll help me take care of him and keep him safe, won’t you?

Of course. Flutter sent her an image of him with a worm in his beak, stuffing it into the child’s eagerly gaping mouth.

She laughed. Nothing had ever seemed so funny. Don’t you dare.

Flutter’s silent laughter joined hers. Shiar frowned at her, and Jaina looked puzzled, so she tried to explain the joke, but neither of them seemed terribly amused. Larine didn’t care. Everything was right with the world, and nothing could spoil her delight.

At length the midwife brought string to bind the cord and a knife to cut it. A few dark drops of blood splashed the blanket. The baby didn’t even notice, continuing to nurse without a pause. Eventually his eyes closed, his mouth went slack, and his body relaxed.

Master Jaina nodded at him. “Shiar, why don’t you take him for a while so Larine can get cleaned up.”

Larine swallowed and glanced at Shiar, but he climbed to his feet and reached for the baby eagerly. With odd reluctance she passed him to his father. Shiar gazed down at the baby, his posture awkward but his grip secure. He crossed the room and settled into a chair. Larine felt strangely bereft, as if miles yawned between them, not a mere few yards. The life she’d nurtured for the past nine months was now a separate being. Never again would they share quite the same closeness.

Jaina helped her up and encouraged her to give a few more pushes until the afterbirth emerged. She massaged Larine’s belly until her womb was tight and hard, wiped her clean with a soft sponge, then tucked her into bed with cloths to catch the continuing flow of blood. She showed Larine the afterbirth, demonstrating how she checked to make sure it was complete, with no fragments left in Larine’s womb that might cause an infection. Then she bundled it with the soiled towels from the floor and cleaned up the few splatters of blood and fluid they hadn’t contained.

The midwife regarded the falcon snuggled against Larine’s side. “It’s up to you whether you want to speed your healing. I noticed a small tear you’ll probably want to take care of. It would heal on its own, but the Mother’s power can save you some discomfort. Other than that, as long as things proceed normally I’d advise you to let nature take its course. The Mother designed us the way we are for a reason. If you do speed things up, though, be careful to get sufficient rest. You’ll feel better, so it will be easy to overdo, but your body’s been through a major transformation and that takes time and rest and nourishment to recover from, the same way using her power does.”

“I understand.” She probably would have Flutter accelerate her recovery eventually, but for now she was content to relax and enjoy a few quiet days in bed. She looked anxiously at Shiar and their son. Jaina grinned and beckoned them over.

As Shiar settled the baby in her arms and she gathered him close, a knock sounded on the door. A muffled voice called, “Are you ready for visitors yet?”

“Yes, come in.” Larine was eager to show off her new son.

The door swung open and Master Tasha entered, Master Idan right behind her, their familiars at their feet. Larine’s master beamed at her. “Good work, journeyman.” Tasha seated herself on the edge of the bed and admired the baby. She and Idan had two grown children and several grandchildren. Larine planned to take full advantage of her experienced support and advice in the coming days.

Honk and Oak gave the baby cursory inspections before withdrawing. Master Idan stood with his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “It’s always good to have young ones around the Hall. He may not be Wizardkin, but we’ll welcome him as much as if he were.”

“Thank you.” Larine’s eyes filled and she blinked. “I promise I won’t let him distract me from my work.”

Tasha patted her hand. “The Mother has called you to this task, too. You’ll be a wizard your whole life, but he’ll only be tiny a little while. He’s your priority for now. Your work as a wizard can fit around his needs until he outgrows them.”

Master Idan nodded. “The guild has plenty of wizards to serve the people of Tevenar. Your son has the two of you.” He nodded to Larine and Shiar. At Flutter’s outraged screech, he grinned, inclined his head to the falcon, and amended his statement. “The three of you.”

All the wizards laughed. The familiars joined in with barks and squawks. Even Shiar smiled. Larine basked in the warmth of their love.

Jaina laughed, too, but when they quieted she made shooing motions. “Go on, now. Larine needs to rest. Shiar, you can bring some food up from the kitchen for her.”

Larine appreciated her efforts. She was ready for some quiet time snuggling with her son. And she was ravenous. “Bring plenty, Shiar, please.”

Everyone chuckled and moved toward the door. Master Idan paused on the threshold and frowned at her. “I invited Dabiel to come up with us, but she said you probably didn’t want to see her. Is there some problem between you that I can help with?”

Larine swallowed and glanced at Shiar. His face stayed carefully blank, but his eyes bored into hers.

She turned away. “No. We’re just not as close as we used to be. And I think I’ve had enough visitors for now. You can tell her about him, though.”

Master Idan’s expression remained clouded, but he nodded. “I will. And I’ll send a message to the Sailors’ Guild so they can add him to their rolls. Have you chosen a name yet?”

Shiar didn’t look at Larine for confirmation, but she didn’t mind. The name they’d discussed fit their son perfectly. She stroked the thick shock of hair that had dried into downy softness as Shiar answered the Guildmaster. “His name is Ozor. Ozor Sailorkin.”