“Thank you, sir.”
Venture turned away to hang the poker back in its rack, and to hide the tears forming in his eyes. Would that part of him that hungered to fight harder, that yearned to be tested and to prove exactly how much he was capable of, ever rest? Ever really go away?
“Vent, you’re such good company. We should go hunting again soon. How are you with a bow these days?”
When they were hunting in the woods, Grant always gave him the appropriate weapons, but he got little practice with a bow otherwise. One had to be careful when flaunting the law. On their last trip, Venture’s lack of practice had cost them a magnificent buck when he’d missed the shot that Grant had left to him.
“No better, I’m sure, sir.” Venture managed a short laugh as he sat back down. “Maybe I should stick with rabbits.”
“Nonsense. Then what would I have to tease you about?”
Venture swallowed back an unexpected lump. His master made him feel like a friend, and a grown one, too. Justice had seen Venture in the den like this with Grant once, reclining on a cushion instead of sitting in a chair, and he’d chastised him afterward for being so informal. But Grant Fieldstone didn’t appreciate formality in his den. It was another one of those things his brother would never understand. His brother, who cared less than the man he was bonded to, whether he was able to do what he loved.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Venture had an hour to kill before midnight. Grant had apologized for keeping him so late, assuming, naturally, that Justice and Grace would be missing him. He’d sent him home, but though it was too chilly to be still for long outdoors, going home was out of the question. Venture considered walking to town and through the familiar streets and back again, but he would have a hard time avoiding the watchful eyes of the sleepy shopkeepers peering out their windows at the sound of his footsteps. They all knew his face and whose house he served. Many knew his name and were friendly with his brother. And they’d all assume that his being down there meant that he was up to no good.
If he made his way to the center of town, where the Starbright Theater and the Gilded Inn greeted High Society, and everything from the smooth stone walks that lined the streets to the people, the carriages, even the horses, glittered in the lamplight, the town guards were sure to stop him and question him. And if he headed for the North Side, toward Beamer’s, Seven Coins, and Palmer’s Pub, well, that was exactly where Justice would look for him, if he decided to do such a thing. So he slipped into the dark stable with Sunrise and the other horses and whispered to them his secrets—his hopes, his fears, his dreams.
When it was time, Venture left the horses with their velvety ears full of the stuff of his heart and shut the stable door behind him. Without a sound, he approached the servants’ door. Slowly, it opened. Jade stepped out of its shadow and into the starlight.
He took her hand, so soft and cool. His had gotten so big and rough.
“It’s so dark, Vent,” she whispered. She pulled the hood of her woolen cloak over her head and an enchanted smile leapt across her face.
“Don’t worry. I won’t lose you in the dark.”
He gave her hand a squeeze that he hoped was gentle enough. She squeezed back, reminding him how strong her grip had always been. How strong it was still. She was Jade, this girl who took his breath away. Still Jade.
They hurried through the yard, past the garden, among the clusters of maple and elm at the edges of the wheat field, leaving the sleeping stone buildings—the Big House, the stables, the field servants’ cottages—far behind.
“Vent, wait.” Jade hung back as they passed under the shadow of an old maple tree. A troubled look settled on her fine features. “I should go back.”
Venture’s heart sank. She was right, of course. Grant trusted him, and here he was, sneaking around in the middle of the night with his daughter. But what was the harm in talking to his friend when he needed to? When everything else was falling apart? Would Grant really begrudge him that, if he knew everything?
“I’ll take you back, Jadie, if that’s what you really want.”
“No, it isn’t. I want to be with you. It’s just—if you get caught with me, especially at night—I’ll never forgive myself for being so selfish.”
“Don’t worry about me.” He gave her a wink. “I can handle a beating if you can handle a soiled reputation.”
Jade brushed back the strands of hair the breeze had blown out of place and tucked them into her hood with her free hand. “Maybe if I have a soiled reputation I won’t have snobby gentlemen of Society clamoring to make me their personal ornament when I’m sixteen.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“Venture, that’s not funny!”
“I’m sorry. God, Jade, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“I know, Vent.”
She took both his hands in hers and looked deep into his eyes, and the graceful way she held her head, the way she looked at him—she was so beautiful and so much like a lady, that he felt instantly small and foolish.
“Why did you want to see me tonight?”
“I had a fight with Justice. I just wanted to talk to somebody. It sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”
“No, it doesn’t. Let’s go down to the creek then, and we’ll talk.”
They found their way to a creaky old wooden bridge, and sat on a rock beneath it, away from the whip of the wind. The gentle rush of the creek and the crisp scent of the midnight air surrounded them. The autumn night was growing colder, and Jade clutched her long cloak tighter around her. Swiftly, he unbuttoned and began to pull off his own coat for her.
“No.” She stopped him, ducked under his arm into the open coat, and snuggled up against him. “This is better.”
Venture held her close and drew his coat tight around them both.
“You’re always so warm, even when it’s cold,” Jade recalled, for he had warmed her like this when they were very young.
“But you still won’t let me give you my coat.”
“You’re warmer than any coat.”
She wrapped one arm around his back, under the coat, and nestled tighter against his chest, and he knew that there was more to it than that.
“Did Father tell you about the fight? About Dasher Starson?”
“He did. I wish I could’ve been there.”
“Me too. Mrs. Hill says the Crested ladies get to learn to fight. It’s part of their tradition. Back in the Wartimes, the women weren’t safe. They had to learn to fight too.”
“Really?”
“Those Crested women are so lucky. They all have each other, and they don’t have to stop learning just because they’ve turned fourteen. How is what I learned for such a few years supposed to be enough? And what if none of it was any good anyway? Mrs. Hill is so old, she gets frustrated that she can’t demonstrate some things for the girls, because her body just won’t move that way anymore. I have a feeling all I got was a glimpse of what I could be learning. And there were only a handful of girls in my class to try things out on, and except for Flora, they were always talking and giggling and fooling around.”
“Maybe you’ll marry a Crested man one day, and his family will teach you how to fight.”
“I don’t want to marry a Crested man.”
She snuggled tighter against him, and his heart leaped.
“You could, you know. Lots of people say so.”
“That’s just a bunch of silly gossip. You shouldn’t listen to it.”
He hugged her tighter. “Would you think it was a bad idea if I wanted to be a prize fighter?”
“No. You’re such a good fighter, Vent. And I know how you love it.”
“Beamer thinks I could be great,” he said quietly.
“Beamer knows what he’s talking about. Is that what you fought about with Justice—you being a fighter?”
“Yeah.”
“Because of your father?” Jade’s hand pressed at his back.
“His fights were just thrown together in warehouses and barns. No mats. No trainer watching out for him, no healer. It wouldn’t be like that for me. I’d only be competing in organized tournaments. The Commission oversees them. Guys don’t just—they don’t just die on the mat. It would be hard, but I’d be fine.”
She moved his hand to her lap, rubbing his fingers the way she used to do when they were little.
“Jadie, what’s wrong?”
“I know you’d be fine, but . . . you’d have to go away, wouldn’t you?”
“The elites from Beamer’s all go to Champions Center when they’re sixteen.”
“Where Will Fisher and Dasher Starson train.”
“Right. I’d be in the Southern Quarter for months at a time.” He gave her a squeeze. “But I would come back.”
“I would miss you,” she looked up into his eyes. Her own eyes shone with unshed tears.
“It’s what I’m meant to do, Jade, I know it.”
“You should do it, then. Justice should let you do it. And if he gives you permission, I’ll make sure my father does, too.”
“Thank you.” Venture was too touched by her offer to tell her that Grant had already given his permission. “It’s hopeless trying to convince Justice, though. I guess when I’m of age I could try to get Beamer to sponsor me, and do it without my brother’s blessing. But I’ll have missed my chance to get into Champions Center.”
Jade nodded. “You have to get in when you’re young.”
“And they’ll only take boys who placed in the top three in either the grappling or the striking divisions in the youth championship for their quarter. Which I’ll never get to compete in without Justice’s consent, and never be good enough to win if I’m not with the elites. And no matter where I go to train when I’m grown, I’d be getting such a late start, I’d never be one of the best.”
Jade tilted her head up at him, a new, different gleam in her eyes. She brought her arm out from behind his back and turned so that she faced him. Her hand cupped the back of his neck and her fingers found their way into his hair. He couldn’t take his eyes off hers. He could hardly breathe. She released his hand, brought her palm to his cheek, guided his face down, toward hers, until their mouths touched. And in that moment all he knew was how soft her lips were, how completely wonderful it was to feel them against his, that he could kiss her forever.
Though she’d initiated the kiss, he returned the gesture over and over again, until she whispered, “Vent,” and gently nudged him back.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m not sorry.”
“Why did you do that?” Now that the moment had passed, he wanted to know. He wanted no more agonized wondering about how she felt about him.
“Because I love you, and I want you to be a great fighter, Venture Delving,” she said.
It was all Venture could do not to kiss her again, but he’d just overdone it. He wanted to show her some restraint, and to keep himself from going too far. He stood up and suggested they walk for awhile. Hand in hand, they explored the sheltered parts of the Fieldstone property, where they could remain unseen, shadows slipping among shadows, taking in the familiar turned new by the dense, dark beauty of the hour. They looked up through a break in the trees at the clear night sky, and pointed out the constellations to each other. Mightyman, the legendary Atranian hero, with his horse; Render, founder of Richland, his sword held high, ready to cut through his enemies; Heval, the mountain lion; Swun, the Gultsan god of wisdom, with the great serpent draped over his shoulders.
When the stars faded, when the sky turned deep and purple with the threat of dawn, he led her home. They stopped for a moment under the cover of the barn eaves, holding hands, not wanting to let go and let the night end.
“Vent, if I get caught coming back in, I swear I’ll never tell anyone about us, no matter what.”
“You’re not going to get caught.”
“But if I do, and if people find out about it, if Justice hears about it, and he knows you were gone the same night—”
“He’ll kill me. Don’t even talk like that.”
“I want you to tell him the truth,” Jade said gently.
“What?”
“If he gets suspicious, I want you to tell him everything.”
“No way.”
“Your mother raised you to be a man of honor. I want you to be truthful. Just trust me. I think everything will work out for the best if you do. You know he won’t tell my father. Promise me.”
Venture didn’t understand where this was coming from, but she was so insistent, he relented. “All right, I promise.”
“Good. I’d better go then. You stay here until I get inside, okay?”
He nodded.
“Goodnight, Vent.”
Noticing the hopeful invitation in her smile, he took hold of her around the waist, drew her to him, and kissed her again, just once. “Goodnight now, Jade.”
He watched her hurry gracefully through the tall grass, onto the trampled path, into the service courtyard. When she was safely inside, he turned with a sigh and made his way home, hoping to quietly slip in, go to bed, and drift into dreams in which this night with Jade went on and on.
But, around the wooden shutters of the cottage shone a thin frame of lantern glow, illuminating the fact that someone was waiting for him, awake and no doubt angry.
Justice’s temper didn’t fall short of his expectations. As soon as Venture pushed the door open, he rose from his chair near the fire.
Justice didn’t bother with a greeting, just said, “What have you been doing?”
“Thinking about how much I want to be a prize fighter.”
“I’m not playing around.”
“Neither am I.”
The brothers stared at each other, stormy-eyed.
Grace eased open the bedroom door, leaving the sleeping baby and stepping into the main room.
“Vent, are you hungry? You want me to fix something up for you?”
“No thanks, Grace. I’m fine. I’m going to bed. I’m really tired.”
“You’re tired?” Justice said. “How much sleep do you think we got, with you missing?”
“I wasn’t missing.”
Grace touched Justice’s arm, and words passed silently from her eyes to his. Justice’s face fell, then became almost calm.
“Stay here and let’s talk for a minute, Vent,” Grace said.