I was still shaking my head as he left. He was a strange man, but if he truly had a pony and a wagon and if patrols really were on their way – and I was sure he was right about that – then he was my best hope of getting out of here.
I sat gently on the edge of the bed and tried to shake Osprey awake.
“Osprey?”
He woke slowly, swallowing, and then grimacing.
“I have water here,” I whispered, helping him up enough that I could guide the cup to his lips.
He drank and then drank again and then collapsed back onto the bed.
“Apidae,” he whispered, and his breath was faint.
Worried, I touched his forehead, but he was not burning up. I laid the back of my hand against his cheek and was surprised when he nuzzled against it with a happy sigh. Perhaps he wasn’t fully conscious. Perhaps he was dreaming or flickering in and out of sleep. My cheeks burned hot all the same. He clearly was thinking about me, even if it was in his sleep, and I liked that very much.
Far too much.
I shouldn’t be so distracted. But the bee stings on his lips were gone and part of me very much wanted to put more of them there.
Before I’d even managed to finish the thought, his bound hands came up gently and found my side, catching my jacket in his grip and very softly drawing me down to him. I leaned in, tilting my head in case he was going to whisper. I was right.
“I’ve been dreaming of bees and honey.”
His whisper sent a little shiver down my spine.
“My mother loved honey. She used to raise bees and she’d give some honeycomb to me whenever I asked. I always find honey anywhere I visit and bring some home in her honor. I keep little jars of it in a chest in my old room at House Osprey.”
He was muttering and I wasn’t sure if he realized he still had my jacket in his hands, that he was telling me this story. It was possible that he was still dreaming.
His breathing changed and I wished he had no blindfold on so I could see his eyes.
“Kiss me and let me taste honey again,” he whispered. “I love all those stings your bees offer me just as I love the buffeting wind that cuffs me and slaps me even as it lifts me up on the heights.”
He was definitely delusional. My bee was going deeper. And yet, even now, I couldn’t say no.
I leaned in and kissed him, drinking in this nearness that surely couldn’t last. Whatever it was he tasted like, it was so much better than honey.
I didn’t hear the door creak, but I nearly squeaked when light burst into the cabin.
“So that’s the way it is,” Marcel said wryly. “I ought to take you straight to the Skybinder, the pair of you, and see you married properly. But a married couple will do as a disguise. The posters don’t mention that. They only mention a girl with wild hair and a tendency to sting.”
He swatted a glowing bee aside, and my cheeks felt hot as I realized I’d manifested again, that Osprey had a sting on his lips again and I hadn’t been able to control myself and keep that from happening. Judging by his two dimples and the way he could barely contain his laugher, he didn’t mind.
“It will be hard to sell you as a married couple if he remains bound,” Marcel said, throwing a pair of dark cloaks at me. “Best to untie him.”
“I can’t,” I said, my cheeks so hot now that someone could make tea if they set a kettle onto them.
“If you need to keep him bound to keep him near then he’s a poor choice, girl,” Marcel replied, and I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me. “A pretty girl like you can find another boy. You don’t need to tie up an unwilling one – though I’ll admit that it looked like he was taking as much as he was giving just now.”
Embarrassment and horror welled up hot in me. “He didn’t ... I wasn’t.”
Osprey was shaking now, and I knew it was from suppressed mirth.
“At least he clearly has his energy back. Up now, lad. I know you aren’t well but if you’ve the strength to kiss girls who like to stab anything that moves in the night, then you’ve the strength to get to my pony on your own two feet.” He reached down and helped Osprey up. “That’s right. And what name shall I call you? Lover-boy feels accurate, but a touch too much like an endearment and I’m not that kind of blacksmith.”
“Os... Vasyklo,” Osprey said. “And it’s a pleasure to meet you, blacksmith.”
“Likewise, prisoner. You’re sure he needs these bonds girl?” I nodded. “Truly?” I nodded again and he shook his head. “Well, at least you got yourself entangled with a pretty one, then boy.” He was already leading Osprey ahead of me and out the door, holding his lantern high while I gathered our weapons. He was far too chatty. I wished I could get help from someone – anyone – else. “Best to let her keep you, I suppose, though she’s far too stabby. Think on that. Marrying a stabby girl might seem like a fun adventure until she actually draws blood.”
“Oh, she’s already done that, blacksmith.”
Marcel clicked his tongue. “I hope these bandages aren’t on her account.”
“Every one of them.”
Marcel glanced anxiously over his shoulder at me. “Just say the word and I’ll free you boy. She’s got no right to stab you and then bind you. That’s not healthy. You can find a lass just as pretty with fewer teeth and less of a tendency to bite, hmm?”
“If you untie me, I’ll be forced to kill her one way or another, good blacksmith, and none of us wants that,” Osprey admitted. “So, keep me tied and blindfolded and we’ll all be the better for it.”
Marcel clicked his tongue again, scolding. “Never have I met such a bloodthirsty pair. You both should have been raised better than this, so now you’ll have to listen to me, and me barely old enough for children never mind children the age of the pair of you.” He began to help Osprey up onto his pony. Osprey swayed, needing to lean against the pony to gather his strength. Marcel was surprisingly gentle, holding the younger man with one hand and the lantern with the other. The pony, for her part, munched on new shoots of grass, ignoring them both. She was fat and placid as a summer day. “No one should be mixing kisses and violence and the pair of you should be scolded for such nonsense. Kisses are promises of loyalty and love that are soul-deep. They aren’t games or toys. If you were my children, I’d smack you both for your foolishness and keep on smacking you until you realized there’s a soul-bond that starts with kissing and completes in the marriage bed and no fools should start it who don’t mean to fulfill it. There’s a giving of your whole self to another person in all that and it’s no game and not something you’d play around with where an enemy is concerned.”
If my cheeks had been hot before, they were as fiery as Osprey’s cuff now. I stood awkwardly to the side, feeling the gift he’d given me – the one that showed he cared about me. It burned when I slid my finger in to touch it. It always burned when he was close – like the feather in my chest did.
“Who says I don’t plan to be loyal on a soul-deep level?” Osprey asked, his dimples deepening as he swayed in the saddle. “Who says I’m not already willing to give my whole self to her, blacksmith?”