Page 13 of A Tale of Mirth & Magic

“It was! I’m still convinced one of my sisters put it there, but none of them ever fessed up. I’ve never been able to touch or be near a toad since. Why do they have to be so… bumpy?”

“And how they stare at you, with those beady little eyes?”

Elikki and I shuddered at the same time, then smiled at each other. Her eyelashes were wet, clumped together from when she’d washed her face, and I had the sudden urge to brush my finger across them. Feel the delicate lashes across the pad of my thumb. She looked happy, relaxed, though a bit cold. Her hands shook, and she tucked them against her body to warm them. I suddenly remembered the decision I’d come to earlier, before she’d shown up here.

“Should we head back?” she said, still smiling softly at me. “Get away from these treacherous waters?”

6

ELIKKI

I’d woken up shivering and extremely grumpy. The memory of the bounty hunters searching for me during the night just seemed like a bad dream in the fresh light of the morning. The unsettled feeling in my chest, however, reminded me that they were all too real. I could handle myself in a fight… but three against one weren’t comforting odds. Best to stay on my guard today.

When I’d realized Barra was gone and the fire had died in the night, I’d grumbled around the campsite for a while. Loudly. My fingers felt like little icicles. I breathed on them until they thawed a bit, then grabbed one of the toasting sticks nearby and tried to poke the embers back to life. They stubbornly resisted, so I’d decided to warm up with a brisk walk to find some water.

I was grumpy all the way up until I’d stumbled upon a sopping Barra by the water, looking as surprised to see me as I was delighted to see him. Now, after filling up my flask with fresh, cold water and talking for a time—I couldn’t believe I’d told him about my toad phobia—we were back at our campsite in the forest clearing.

He looked just delicious, all fresh-faced with his burnished gold hair pushed back. It seemed like this was the first time I could see his whole face properly, no hood or hair or shadows partially hiding him. Despite the disaster yesterday and the less-than-ideal sleeping arrangement, this was a nice perk—being greeted by a sexy, wet man soon after I woke up.

Barra patiently built the fire back up to a low blaze and placed more wood on top. Oh, two perks. I leaned forward, holding my cold hands near the warmth. He pulled a few things from the saddlebags and began to boil water. “Want some tea?”

Another perk! “Yes, I’d love some,” I replied with a groan.

I’d never tell him, but this was one of the best mornings I’d had in a long time. Easy, simple companionship was hard for me to come by in my nomadic life. I was alone most of the time. And even when I wasn’t, when I’d found someone I liked being with for a short while, I still had to stay on my guard.

For some reason, with Barra, it was different. I felt… comfortable. Safe. It was a bit unnerving, but I let myself enjoy it. We’d part soon enough anyway.

We chatted more while waiting for the water to boil, and before long Barra placed a steaming mug in my hands. His palm grazed my fingertips. I took a tentative sip. It was a strong black tea with a lightly roasted flavor. “Mmm, delicious. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He didn’t move away. Just watched me take another sip, an intent look on his face. I smiled.

“No milk or sugar,” he said, “but I have some honey.”

I normally drink my tea black, but something about the way he offered made me want to keep taking whatever he was giving. “Sure, I’d love that. Just a little drizzle.”

He went to his bags and came back with a small jar of honey and a spoon. It looked so comically delicate in his hand that I grinned.

“What is it?” he said with a wry smile. “You’re always smiling or scowling about something,”

“The little jar! You!” I waved my hands about, gesturing at the picture he made. “It’s just so cute!”

Barra unlatched the lid, his smile deepening. He seemed different this morning—steadier, more present. In his low voice, he murmured, “You think I’m cute? That’s new.”

Laughing, I answered, “Very. But I mean, look at this. Possibly the cutest thing I’ve seen all week.”

He had dipped the small tin spoon into the honey and was bent down, drizzling it carefully into my mug. I started to flush, watching him. He was so close. His big fingers moved gracefully, and I couldn’t stop picturing what they could do to me.

His gaze flicked up, caught me staring. I had the strangest urge to look away—or run away—from his attention that I haven’t felt in years. I pushed it down and kept eye contact, giving him my coyest smile.

I added, “And you’re fucking gorgeous. Obviously.”

Barra’s eyes widened. He looked dazed, twirling the spoon between his fingers. A layer of honey clung to it, golden in the early morning sunlight. He saw me looking and lifted it up.

“You can lick it off, if you want,” he offered. I could almost see the replay in his mind, of me cleaning chocolate off my hand last night.

I looked him dead in the eyes. “You lick it,” I said, obeying the recklessness that surged through me.

His molten eyes flashed with desire and a touch of shyness. He brought the spoon to his mouth, and my stomach tightened. The tip rested on his violet lower lip. The air sharpened between us. Barra watched me with an intensity that I felt all over—it was as if every inch of my body was on alert, waiting for what he’d do next.