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47

Eleal floated back up to consciousness, aware first of a revolting taste in her mouth. She tried to spit out whatever it was. A strong arm reached under her shoulders and raised her; someone held a gourd of water to her lips. Water dribbled down her neck, between her breasts. Coldness, darkness, and her eyelids seemed to be crusted with mud. She forced them open, shivered convulsively. Faint light, coldness again, and awareness that she wasn't wearing anything. She was on a very lumpy, prickly bed . . . someone holding her upright.

"Relax, relax!" said a voice. A man's voice.

She clutched at the blanket and pulled it up to cover her nudity. She turned her head and found herself looking into a concerned pair of very blue eyes.

"You're all right," D'ward said. "You're not hurt. You'll be quite well in a moment. We're trying to help you. Wash your mouth out again."

She discovered more aches and scrapes. Her elbows and ankles, especially. Her teeth felt as if someone had worked them over with a mallet.

D'ward holding her up. Her head against his bony shoulder. D'ward wiping her face with a wet, pink cloth. Had she been injured, somehow?

"What?" she said, and her tongue felt wrong in her mouth. "What happened?" She tried to focus, but his face was too close, a blur.

"You had a brush with very nasty sorcery, but you're all right now."

He lowered her. She still held the blanket under her chin. He was kneeling beside her.

"Relax! You're still not thinking straight. Take a little longer."

Why did her teeth hurt so? Vague, confused pictures whirled in her mind: D'ward in his priest's gown with the hood over his head, walking along a passage below her . . . a man with a mustache . . . take money to D'ward . . . Woeful maiden, handsome lad, Met on lonely way . . .

She peered up at him. He smiled at her, and she could make out the smile. How had she come to be lying in bed with no clothes on and D'ward beside her? She smiled back. If that was about to happen, then she would as soon it was D'ward as any. . . . What was wrong with her teeth?

"Starting to feel better?"

"Yes. What—what happened?"

"You saw a man in a robe and thought it was me."

She closed her eyes. That did sound right, but where? And what had she been doing? She opened her eyes again and tried to nod.

D'ward blinked at her a few times. "You're all right, Eleal. It's all gone now. The curse is gone."

Then the missing pieces dropped into place. She stiffened in horror. "D'ward! I came to find you! I jumped—"

"Never mind. It's over."

"Just going to surprise you . . . I started to sing—"

He seized her shoulders and squeezed them hard. "It's all right, I say. It wasn't me! It's all right."

"I didn't want to sing . . . didn't mean to sing—" Her voice was shrill. She felt tears, panic, and terror. Her limbs thrashed and trembled.

He steadied her, strong hands on her shoulders. "It is all right, Eleal! It's all over!" He made soothing noises, whispering. She calmed abruptly. The whirling terrors settled like leaves after a gust of wind has passed.

He said, "Oh, Eleal, Eleal, darling! You saved my life and—"

"What?"

"Yes! There was another curse, see? A man after me. So you saved my life again, and this time it was my turn to wash and nurse you. . . . Well, it was my helpers—not me. I mean, I didn't even peek . . ."

That struck her as funny. She laughed. "You think I would mind if you peeked?"

"Perhaps not as much as some," he agreed awkwardly.

"You think I didn't peek at you when I had the chance?"

"Er . . . That was a long time ago. The main thing is that the curse is gone."

She closed her eyes and saw the man with the mustache.

"He kissed me!"

"I expect that's his preferred technique."

"He sent me to find you, kill you?"

"Don't worry about it."

She shivered and lay still, thinking hard. "I was coming to tell you that I believe in you, not in the imposters."

"Good. Truly that makes me very happy."

"I came to give you my money."

"You don't have to."

"Some of it was his. He gave me money!" Memories were coming back. The room, the crystal figurine.

"I'll certainly take his money, if you like. And put it to a good use."

"And let me stay with you? Keep me safe, in case he tries to—punish me for failing?" She opened her eyes and watched to see what he would say.

He looked worried. "You don't have to stay, Eleal. You have two good legs now. You can go and chase that acting career you wanted."

She wanted to stay. Very much she wanted to stay, and things that worked on most men would not work on D'ward. Not quickly, anyway.

"But most of those plays—they're lies! They're about the evil sorcerers who pretend to be gods. Those plays are bad, D'ward, aren't they?"

He rubbed a wrist across his brow and looked even more worried. "If you take them seriously they are."

"Then what's to become of me!" A sob escaped her.

"Join us if you want. Glad to have you. I need someone to help with the preaching."

"Preaching? Me? You don't have to mock me." She writhed under the blanket.

"I'm not mocking you at all. You heard me last night at Joobiskby—I'll bet you could repeat almost everything I said and bring the house down with it."

She had been doing better with her eyes closed, so she closed them again. "He kissed me! I still feel his mustache on my lips. I dream of him. I'll never forget how he kissed me." She squeezed out a tear.

D'ward chuckled, very close to her ear. "You haven't changed a bit, you minx!" he whispered. "You've just learned a few more tricks. I'll see if someone can find some clothes for you."

His lips touched hers for a moment. She grabbed with both arms but he was gone already.

 

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Framed