He grunted and cracked an eye. “Go ‘way.”
“Uh-uh, baby. You’ve slept long enough for ten your size. Pop me to Kukurul, luv. I woke up wanting.” He closed the eye. “Take the boat.”
She took his earlobe instead and pinched hard.
“Ow! Stop that.” He grabbed for her arm, but she jumped out of reach. “Witch!”
“If I were, I wouldn’t need you.”
He groaned and sat up. “You don’t need ine.”
“Come on, Maksi. Housewraith decided to make breakfast this morning. It’s spelled to wait, but I’m hungry. I’ll take the boat all right, but I want you with me.”
He shoved tangled hair off his face and looked shrewdly at her. “What is it, Bramble? Something’s eating at you.”
“No soulsearching before breakfast, if you please. I’ve run your bath for you, I’ve had mine already. I’ll wait twenty minutes no more, so it’s your fault if your eggs are cold.”
3
The fire crackled briskly behind the screen; the heavy silk drapes were pulled back to let in the morning sun. Brann paced back and forth, her body cutting through the beams, her shadow jerking erratically over the furniture. She swung round, scowled at Maksim. “Well?”
“Of course I’ll go with you. Matter of fact, I’ve been thinking for several days now it’s time for another visit.” He rubbed his hand across his chin. “What’s itching at you, Bramble-all-thorns?”
“The usual thing. What else could there be?” She turned her back on him and stared out the window.
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh you.”
“Me.”
She moved her right arm in a shapeless, meaningless gesture; she started to speak, stopped, tried again, had even less luck finding words for what she wanted to say; the trouble was, she didn’t know what she wanted to say. “I’m useless. There’s nothing to do here.” She turned round, hitched a hip on the windowsill. “Nothing real.” She lifted her hands, let them fall.