Teri McLaren
Schreefa, who killed my uncle for being three days late with his protection dues?" Claria slapped the water, showering Cheyne and sending a wave up into Og's lap. "Riolla, may she find her future blessed with too many of everything, who sent her assassins to burn my shop?" Cheyne smiled ruefully, thinking of his own encounters with the Schreefa and her thugs. "Are you out of your mind?" Claria's golden eyes flashed fire under her wet lashes.
Og stood up from his growing pile of date pits. "Yes. I am," he snorked. "Always have been, 1 guess, where Riolla was concerned." He found an aloe, broke off a leaf, rubbed its slick juice onto his blisters, and replaced his sandals.
Claria charged out of the water, wringing her skirts and shaking her dark mane of hair. She found a sunny rock halfway up the cliffside and sat down to rub fragrant oil into her skin as her clothes began to steam in the heat.
Cheyne watched her, appreciating how the light broke on the planes of her face, how the brilliant parrot feathers set off the color of her hair. How the air filled with that wondrous scent of bergamot and myrrh, and how she dabbed at her eyes again and again, turning her head away from them to do it. Then he looked at Og, completely puzzled. "I think you better tell her why, Og," he said quietly.
Og nodded. "Fair enough."
Claria whirled on him, waiting to hear his explanation, crouched and ready to spring her anger on him again when it wouldn't be good enough.
"Well… I told you I was a songmage. Well, Riolla once served in the Citadel-" He paused at Claria's sharp breath.
"Yes, Riolla was bom a slave; she was not always the richest person in the Mercanto. Anyway, she grew up as a bought companion to a Fascini child, one of the king's daughters, actually, and the child thought so highly of her that she would pout and trouble her family if Riolla
SONG OF TIME i 3 i
were left out of anything she did or wanted. So, when 1 was hired to tutor the princess in music and dance and acrobatics, Riolla was allowed to join in. When it became obvious to the old king that Riolla had the superior talents in these arts, he stopped the lessons.
"Some years passed. One day, when she had come of age, and the princess had become enraged that Riolla had taken her young man from under her very nose, Riolla ran away and found my house, invited herself in, and begged me to teach her more magic. I confess that I fell in love with her then and there. She was beautiful and young-all that dark red hair, those blue eyes. And she could sing. She seemed to be so interested in the songs, in how to find and channel the power, how to work the silences.
"I taught her everything I knew, and then drove myself to learn more so that I could teach her. Every day, I loved her more, risking even death if the king found out she was there. I wanted to marry her, to give her my name. It is an old and respected one, you know, whether I look like it or not.
"One morning, when I believed I had found the right words, the words that would make her love me back, I gave her the ring. It is custom to pledge a ring when you are about to give a name," he explained to Cheyne as Claria unconsciously twisted at the one on her own finger. "It was my most valuable possession, and I wanted her to know that her love was even more valuable to me, and that I would share everything I had with her. She took the ring, pretending to be honored, saying yes, she would marry me, that we would make magic together for all time. I was the happiest man under the sun. I went to fetch Bandro, who was the Mercanto Schreef at that time, to marry us."
"Well-what happened?" said Claria, frowning, refusing to be caught up in Og's romantic story.
Og looked up at her, his face bleak and pale behind his reddened nose. "When I returned, she was gone.