Free Quatrain by Sharon Shinn Page A

bringing her anywhere near an angel hold,” I retorted. “I need to see her married to a dull, respectable man who will worship her and keep her in comfort. She doesn’t realize it yet, but that is the best life any woman could hope for.”
    “She might want to make her own decision about that.”
    “She can make whatever decision she wants as long as it doesn’t include angels.”
    He didn’t answer that, but I could feel the skepticism in his silence. He didn’t know Sheba, but I suppose he remembered me at a youthful age, and he knew full well that I had not cared about anyone’s opinion but my own.
    “I look forward to meeting her,” he said, “in a week.”
    I laughed. “Or ten days.”
    He sighed and rose to his feet, pulling me up beside him. “If I am to return so quickly, I must be on my way now,” he said. “I hate to leave you so soon after having found you again, and yet—”
    “I am not afraid that you will not come back for me,” I said. “That makes it easier for me to see you go.”
    Still, it was hard. We lingered another ten minutes in that tiny grove, another twenty. When he finally caught me up in his arms and took wing, I could tell that he dawdled on the flight, and we circled Laban more than once while we spoke another set of good-byes. I did not particularly want to have to explain my situation to any of my traveling companions, so I had Stephen put me down on the very edge of town, where fewer people were likely to see us. More farewells, more quick and hungry kisses, and then he tore himself away.
    “Leave now or never leave,” he said, backing away from me. “I will return as soon as I possibly can.”
    I watched him fling himself aloft. I stood there a full ten minutes, my hand up to shade my eyes, watching his narrow shape dwindle to the size of a bird, to a speck, to nothing.
    Except that my body remembered every kiss, every touch, I might have thought I had imagined him. Except that my heart was so light it practically lifted me to my toes, I would have thought the whole day a dream.

    Sheba hurried into our shared inn room, explanations tumbling from her mouth before she had even closed the door. “And then Adriel wanted to show me a dress she was thinking of buying, but it was so expensive, and I said we should try to bargain. And the merchant—he was Jansai, and I didn’t like him at all—told us we insulted him with the price we offered, so we left his booth and found another, where they were much nicer, but I didn’t realize how long we were gone, and I hope you weren’t worried.”
    “Hope said she had seen you with the other girls not half an hour ago, so I knew you were all right,” I said. “Have you made yourself sick eating from the vendors’ booths, or do you want to have dinner? I’m meeting Hope and Joseph in an hour.”
    “Of course I want to have dinner with you!” she exclaimed. I knew she would prefer to go off with her friends again, but she figured she would do penance by joining me for the meal and being so sweet that I would lose any remaining anger. At times, her thoughts were so transparent I could hardly keep from laughing. “Do I have time to change my clothes? A drunkard spilled wine all over my dress.”
    About thirty minutes later, a small group of us sat at a pretty little restaurant with outdoor seating and festive lighting. Hope, Joseph, their two sons, Sheba, and I were joined by a few others from Thaddeus’s farm, including Hara and David. The younger members of our party spent the whole meal flirting with each other, while Hope and Joseph and I talked more rationally about how we had passed our days.
    In my case, of course, many details were omitted.
    “Did you hear the angels?” Hope asked at one point. “Utterly divine! I just stood there in the middle of the street with my mouth hanging open.”
    “I did hear them,” I admitted. “I never expect to be moved by their voices as much as I always am.”
    “I can’t