fight, I can't push Brutus too hard. He's mostly making sure that other earthcrafter can't find us. I tried to look, but I haven't been able to locate anyone."
"I'm sure Tavi's well," Amara said. "He's a resourceful child."
Bernard nodded. "He's clever. Fast. But that might not be enough in this storm."
"He had salt," Amara said. "He took it before he left."
"That's good to know, at least."
"And he wasn't alone. He had that slave with him."
Bernard grimaced. "Fade. I don't know why my sister puts up with him."
"Do you own many slaves?"
Bernard shook his head. "I used to buy them sometimes, give them the chance to earn their freedom. Lot of the families on the steadholt started that way."
"But you didn't give Fade that chance?"
He frowned. "Of course I did. He was the first slave I bought, back when I raised Bernardholt. But he spends the money on things before he saves up to his price. Or does something stupid and has to pay for repairs. I stopped having the patience to deal with him years ago. Isana does it all now. All his clothes get ruined, and he won't stop wearing that old collar. Nice enough fellow, I suppose, and he's a fairly good tinker and smith. But he's got the brains of a brick."
Amara nodded. Then she sat up. The effort of it left her gasping and dizzy.
Bernard's hand steadied her, warm on her shoulder. "Easy. You should rest. Going into water like that can kill you."
"I can't," Amara said. "I have to get moving. To find Tavi, or at least try to warn the Count at Garrison."
"You aren't going anywhere tonight," Bernard said. He nodded toward the darkness at one side of the cavern they huddled in, where Amara could
distantly hear the howl of wind. "That storm came down and it's worse than I thought it would be. No one's moving tonight."
She looked at him, frowning.
"Lay down," he told her. "Rest. No sense in making yourself more tired."
"What about you?"
He shrugged. "I'll be fine." His hand pushed gently on her shoulder. "Rest. We'll go as soon as the storm breaks."
Amara stopped struggling against the warmth easing into her with a sigh of relief and let his hand push her down. His fingers tightened slightly, and she felt the strength of them through her skin. She shivered, feeling at once a sense of reassurance and a sudden spasm of raw, physical need that curled in her belly and lingered there, making her heart speed up again, her breathing quicken.
She looked up and saw in his face that he'd seen her reaction. She felt her cheeks color again, but she didn't look away.
"You're shivering," he said, quiet. His hand didn't move.
She swallowed and said, "I'm cold." She became acutely aware of her bare legs, brazenly on display, and curled them up toward the shirt (his shirt) that he had draped over her.
He moved then, his hand sliding from her shoulder. He stretched out on his side, his chest against her shoulders, so that she lay between him and the fire. "Lay back against me," he said, quiet. "Just until you get warm."
She shivered again and did, feeling the strength of him, the warmth of him. She had an urge to roll onto her other side, to press her face into the hollow of his shoulder and throat, to feel his skin against hers, to share that closeness, that warmth, and the thought of it made her shiver again. She licked her lips.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"I'm..." She swallowed. "Still cold."
He moved. His arm lifted, then draped across her, careful, strong, drawing her back a bit more firmly against him. "Better?"
"Better," she whispered. She turned, hips and shoulders, so that she could see his face. Her mouth lay a breath from his. "Thank you. For saving me."
Whatever he'd been about to say died on his lips, and his eyes focused on hers, then on her mouth. After a moment of aching silence, he said, "You should go to sleep."
She swallowed, her eyes on his, and shook her head. She leaned toward
him then, and her mouth touched on his, his lips just a little rough, soft, warm. She could smell him, his scent like leather and fresh wind, and she felt herself arch into the kiss, slow and sweet. He kissed her back, gently, but she could feel the faint traces of heat in it, feel the way his mouth pushed hungrily at hers, and it made her heart race even