Moth and Spark by Anne Leonard Read Free Book Online

stronger and more fearless. It dulls pain. Tyrekh gives it to his best.”
    “Eight of us killed twelve of them,” Corin said. “Nine hand to hand, three went down from bowshots.”
    “You have good men. But—” He stopped.
    “But what? Say it.”
    “War against Tyrekh is not an even match like that.”
    We’ve the Empire, Corin thought. He did not speak it. Tyrekh might move faster.
    Joce said, “Is that all, my lord?”
    “Yes,” Aram said.
    Joce bowed and stepped back. On impulse, Corin stood up and walked beside him to the antechamber. The room was dim and deserted, though the shadows of the guards in the hall could be seen.
    “Be careful,” he said, clasping Joce’s forearm in the soldier’s gesture of good luck. The man’s body jerked hard at the touch.
    It was an insult. But it was clear to Corin that it had been a movement of the body that could not have been prevented, like a dead muscle twitching when a current ran through it. Joce looked almost frightened.
    “My lord,” he said after a few seconds that seemed to last years, “you’re dangerous.” He held out his arm, and there on the skin were burns the size and shape of fingertips, red and new.
    Corin felt as though he had received a blow to the stomach, but an anticipated one. “Who might know?” he whispered.
    “I don’t know, sir. I’ll think about it.” He had regained his composure. “Shall I ask the others?”
    “No. Not yet.”
    “You’ll need them later.”
    “Why?”
    “Power.”
    “Whose?”
    Joce looked at the burns on his arm. “Yours,” he said softly.
    Their eyes met and held for a long moment. Then Joce broke the contact with a bent head. Corin stepped back into his father’s room and shut the door again.
    Aram did not ask why he had gone. Who else had he touched? His father. No, Aram had touched him. Not the boy taking his horse, or the guards at the entrance. The dog had attacked him, he had burned a wizard’s skin. Something was happening to him. The answer lay in the north, among the things he had forgotten.
    “Corin?”
    He came back. “I’m sorry, I was drifting. What was he watching in Dele?”
    “Ordinary corruption. You know the sort.”
    Corin did. Where there was trade there was evasion of law. It mattered for the revenues but it was unlikely to matter in the face of war. “Will it interfere with securing the port?”
    “Anything could, but I don’t think so.”
    Corin nodded, then, to his embarrassment, yawned.
    “You must be exhausted,” Aram said. “Other things can wait. I’m sure your mother would like to see you.”
    “She doesn’t have any unpleasant surprises for me, does she?”
    “Such as a bride? You’re still safe there.”
    “Good.”
    Aram laughed. “Get on with you,” he said.
    Talk to Bron, Corin thought. Ask him what I did. He might remember things. He said, “Good night.”

    It was not as late as it felt, and after he had seen his mother—Talia greeted him with a brief embrace and the unwelcome news that an imminent war was not an excuse for avoiding the courtiers—he bathed, then read quietly in his sitting room. It was cowardly of him, but he did not want to think about the war any longer. Not tonight. A window was open enough to let in the sound and smell of the rain, and the fire was bright and smokeless. The glowlamps were brighter than he wanted, so he kept them off.
    Someone knocked. It irritated him. He had not told the guards to keep people away. A mistake, that was, especially when it was their only useful function. He had already locked the door, so he had to go open it himself.
    When he saw Seana he felt only weariness. He let her in but did not latch or bolt the door. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. Her lips were soft and smooth, the tip of her tongue warm. It did not arouse him. She was wearing a dress with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a rounded neckline. He put his hands on her shoulders and stepped gently out of her embrace. Part