Part 22 (1/2)
Bee grinned, a wide, happy, smile. And looked, for the first time ever, like a child. ”Hey, Shep comes in, tells me he can clean up his half faster than me, what'm I going to do?”
”Prove him wrong, I expect,” Kess murmured.
”'Course.” Bee's grin became smug.
Mac's smile was more like a grimace. ”Time to buzz, little Bee. Come back tonight to collect.”
Bee was already mostly out the door. ”I will!”
”You made a bet? With Bee?” Kess winced. ”Sorry, I should have warned you. You get taken for much?”
”Like I'm going to get taken by an eight year old.” Mac stowed the empty kettles with neat precision. ”It was just to get Bee going.”
”Did you throw the race?”
”No.” He glanced over. ”Which is a little embarra.s.sing.”
”I won't tell anyone.” She turned away so he wouldn't misinterpret her smile. ”You two get along. I'm glad. Bee is..., well, Bee.” She thought of Lucius, and the t.i.the, and smiled again. ”Can be a bit of a handful.”
He shook his head. ”Bee just needed to know I was an addition. Not a replacement. You know? My sister was...” He stopped so sharply Kess could have cut herself on the edge of the silence.
It was easiest to balance on that precipice by moving carefully around it. ”Mmm. You washed the linens, too. Thank you.”
He cleared his throat. ”Yeah, well, okay. I fixed the old wringer.”
”You fixed my wringer?” She ran for the laundry. When he came in, she was turning the crank, thrilled.
”How long has it been broken?”
”It never worked. I found it, a couple years ago. Ash said it would be kindest to bury it.”
”It wasn't dead,” Mac said, ”Just sort of... sick. I cleaned off the rust. It needed a clamp, right there, and a spring.”
”I may just have to marry you.” His sudden flush was unexpectedly sweet. ”I shouldn't tease. But thank you. For all of your help these past few days.”
He ducked his head. ”Ash asked me. To help. Asked me.”
There was enough wonder in his voice to make her blink. ”Ash is careful about who he trusts. So am I. Now,” she stood, leaving him to sort that through, ”I'm going to get dinner started.”
She knew he was there the second she stepped into her bedroom. In a city of grey and black and brown, her room was a world of color. Lush plants, thick books, fat cus.h.i.+ons. And there, in the midst of it all, a note of darkness that made all the colors more real.
Ash reclined on her bed, longs legs stretched out. He looked less relaxed than quiescent. At least, for the moment.
It was always a point of silent, stubborn pride with Kess to act even more casually than he. ”So. Is there news of our Western friends?”
”They are not quite twelve in number. And they are not our friends.”
She lit a lamp, a trio of candles. ”No, I suppose not.”
”They killed Meyer,” he said. ”Last night.”
”Oh.” That was bad. Meyer was, when sober, a pa.s.sable cobbler. When drunk, which was usually the case, he was more often found in a tavern brawl than his shanty shop. A big man, a canny fighter. Dead, now.
”So you will keep your shadow a while longer.”
She nodded. ”Good.”
He quirked a brow. ”How fares our young G.o.dling?”
”To be entirely honest, I can't imagine how I got by without him.”
Ash propped himself on his elbow. ”And how am I to take that?”
”However you like.” She flicked him a glance. ”He fixed the wringer, you know.”
”Ah, I see I shall have to be on my mettle.”
Rain fell on the roof, a dismal autumn rain, promising a hopeless winter. But her room was jewel of warmth and color and light. She leaned in, put a hand over his heart. ”You always are.”
”Can I ask you something?” said Mac.
”Add a handful of that sorrel, there. Good. Yes, go ahead.”
”Why does Bee call me Shep?”
”Oh. Um.” Kess could feel her face coloring. Dammit. ”It's, um...” She sighed. ”It's your hair, Mac. Your skin. You look so... fresh. Like every artist's idea of the n.o.ble shepherd.”
For the sake of morale, her own, she did not add 'G.o.dling'. ”In fact, there's a painting, quite a famous one, up at the College. You could have walked night off the canvas.”
He shook his head. ”Huh. Wonder if Bee saw that painting?”
She considered that. ”I wouldn't be surprised. Bee gets around.”
”Reckon. Bee was the first person I met in the Darks. It was Bee who brought me to Yil.”
”Really?” That was very interesting. Given how aloof Bee kept from both Haps and Canes.
”Mmm. You know, when we first met, Bee reminded me of my sister. But sometimes now, I think it's my brother.” He looked over.
”Well,” said Kess. ”The Darks is no place for a girl. You understand?”
Mac stirred with measured strokes. ”You're a girl.”
”That's how I know.” In the eight days he'd been her shadow, this was the most personal Mac had been. ”I'm from uptown originally, you know.”
He nodded, kept stirring. ”You don't sound the same as everyone else.”