The Magician's Witch

Settling In

As Eilis came in the door, she saw Bakhita stooping over the largest pot they had, watching it as it steamed.

"Are you giving yourself a facial," Eilis teased good-naturedly.

Bakhita rolled her eyes. "Haha. I am heating the water so we can clean ourselves while the boys are away. I don't know about you two, but I could do with a bath. I caught a whiff of myself as I was walking in here." She made a face.

"I wish we had a bathtub," Laleh lamented.

Eilis nodded, appreciating the comment and the strategy. "Smart move. It's hard to clean...er...everything when you're in a rush and they're about six feet away."

"Mm," Laleh agreed. "And it's still too cold outside to have a wash station out there."

Eilis shivered. The weather was raw and damp. The fire blazing in the hearth kept them all warm, but the minute they stepped out into the mountain air, all memory of heat evaporated. It was already the end of March, and while there had been a few "warmer" days (days where the temperature had risen above fifty degrees), it still remained miserably cold most of the time.

"So, I take it you're feeling a little better now," Laleh mentioned in a suggestive tone.

Eilis smirked. "Marginally."

Bakhita snickered, then turned serious. "How bad was his back?"

Eilis' small smile fell. She shook her head. "He should not have been able to mount a horse, let alone ride for hours—days, actually, since he had to ride from Tehran—and get here alive. I honestly don't know how he did it. I know I could not have."

"He needed to get to you," Laleh said softly. "He needed to know you were alright. After your dramatic escape, it really is little wonder that he would endure a certain amount of hell to ensure that you were safe."

Eilis chuckled, shaking her head. "The man is obsessed with me, for sure."

"Can you blame him," Bakhita asked in a cheeky tone. "You love him, despite his physical flaws and the fact that he is a highly trained, highly lethal assassin. You are a rare woman to love him as he is, Eilis. And he knows how lucky he is to have found you, especially now, carrying his child and all."

Eilis raised an eyebrow at her. "That is very strong language in his defense coming from you."

Bakhita shrugged. "Maybe he is growing on me. I didn't trust him before. But seeing how he flew into action to rescue you from the Shah, even sacrificing himself so we could get away—I am starting to see a little of what you see in him, I suppose."

"It is strange," Laleh considered. "When he is around you, he is different. Without you, he is like a block of marble—impenetrable, cold. Why is that?"

Eilis smirked again. "You are a former concubine of the harem of the Shah of Persia. You cannot come to your own conclusion as to how I achieved such a thing?"

Laleh giggled but shook her head. "It is more than that. Desire of the flesh is one thing, and it is powerful, but what you have with him goes beyond that. You would not be carrying his child if this was just an affair. And you would not have endured what you did for a lesser man."

Eilis regarded her, returning Laleh's steady, patient gaze. She seemed genuinely curious about Eilis' relationship with Erik.

Eilis shrugged. "I don't know if I have a straight answer to your question," she confessed. She thought for a long moment, considering her answer.

"I don't know if I changed Erik, exactly," Eilis confessed. "He is still the same man. Most people see him, see his face, and assume that his deformity means something nasty lies beneath. All his life, he has been abused and reviled for the mere fact that he does not look like everyone else. The gypsies forced him to live in a cage when he was a child; the Shah and the Khanum use him for their nefarious ends, turning his marvelous talents into something reprehensible. His own mother could not bear to even look at him and had him locked away from the world until he decided to run away from home."