Forty-One

 

Briska managed to get Amani onto the bed once occupied by that young fool, Kai, but she had no idea how to help him. She needed to warm him, or send him into an enchanted sleep like Kai until she could heal him, but her magic refused to cooperate. No matter what spell she tried, she couldn't conjure so much as a spark.

She would have to do things the mundane way, she guessed.

Briska bundled up every blanket and item of clothing she had, and tucked them around Amani, hoping to preserve what body warmth he still had. Next, she headed outside to find the woodpile, buried under the snow. She couldn't remember the last time she'd built a fire, so she had to dig deep before she found the topmost logs.

She carried them inside, then went back for more, until she had a healthy pyre piled up in the fire pit. She lit it from the lamp, but the tinder caught too slowly, smoking sulkily instead of blazing into eager life. Swearing, Briska opened the lamp and tipped the oil onto the wood. Then the fire caught, licking at kindling and logs alike as it greedily drank the oil.

Briska dropped the lamp on the floor, for it was useless now.

What else did ordinary people use to heal someone who'd come this close to freezing?

A fire, warm clothes and blankets, and conserving their body heat. Or sharing it.

Briska slipped out of her clothes, then slid into bed beside Amani. His skin was cold to the touch – even colder than hers! – but she rubbed against him, trying to share what little warmth she had. A good lust spell would come in really handy right now. Not that she needed it. Just touching him again was enough to kindle her desire. It had been more than twenty years since she'd last touched him, but she remembered every line, every ridge of muscle, like it was yesterday.

She covered his face with kisses, then bit her lip to cast a lust spell. Knowing it would not work, but wishing with all her might to feel his hands on her body one last time.

She kissed and caressed him, her own skin afire at the contact with the man she loved. Against her belly, she felt part of him stirring, though the rest of his body did not. Her fingers strayed lower, stroking him harder until she could bear it no longer.

She climbed atop him, easing the length of him inside her until she could hold no more. Then she began to rock her hips against him, just as she used to do when they were lovers.

Once, he would stare up at her in wonder, his hands moving to cup her breasts, his lips murmuring endearments before he kissed her, moving within her in a blissful harmony that would bring them the most glorious release.

But now...

Briska blinked away tears, wishing for what could never be again.

Behind her, unnoticed, the lamp's light went out.