“Anyone can ask questions and get answers.” Robin glanced away from Lucas’ annoyingly broad and resolute shoulders before Lucas twisted around to study him.
“But not many have your strength.”
Just the Widow Parris, now gone. But any witch could read the future, or try to, or open themselves to it. Interpretations might vary, but it was always there.
Lurking, Robin thought sourly.
He found he could not quite meet Lucas’ eye. Maybe because Lucas had no way to deny his gifts and Robin was being small and selfish about his.
Forget Robin’s embarrassment over his teenage feelings,thiswas the reason it was dangerous to have Lucas around.
To Robin, anyway. The threats Lucas might pose to everyone else were not his concern. Robin certainly wasn’t any concern of theirs.
“I’m tired,” he said at last, after a silence Lucas wouldn’t break, and more rain on the roof, and that expectant, irritating,listeningstillness from upstairs.
It was a weak excuse, although hewastired, so much so that even finishing the broth seemed like too much. But Lucas immediately pulled the plug to drain the dishwater and reached for a towel to dry his hands as if that had been a call to action.
“About that,” he began, then stopped, and seeing him hesitate was so odd that Robin leaned forward in anticipation of terrible news. Lucas folded the towel before he put it down. “My mother had the idea that one, or some, of us could stay with you and help out for a while. Until you get caught up on your rest and then your work, at least. She’s the one I would have asked about your coven obligations this year. She knows things, somehow, even when she doesn’t go to any meetings or revels herself.”
“Ah.” Robin glanced toward the door to the hall, but of course, now that a concerned ancestor might have been useful, there were none to be found. He had been trying to ignore the fact that Lucas or Persephone clearly intended to hang around until they were sure Robin was well. This was another matter entirely.
He rested a hand over his heart to calm it. “I can’t afford a housekeeper.” Not a lie. “And I can’t barter.” Somewhat of a lie, so he added, “I don’t even have the energy to make solstice gifts right now.” Though he had no one to give any to anyway. “I couldn’t repay anything.”
Lucas’ gaze caught his and held it.
Robin was either still feverish or on the verge of blushing, although he hadn’t meant to imply anything with that remark and he didn’t think Lucas took it that way. After all, Lucas hadn’t ever referenced Robin’s childish crush after that one time.
“Even a simple tea leaf reading would mean more from you.” Another statement in that voice that was like fire seen through a bottle of fine alcohol that one of Robin’s relatives kept in the liquor cabinet for cold nights.
“I’m notthatgifted…” The denial died before Robin could fully make it. It was cowardly and Lucas didn’t understand cowardice. He hadn’t been allowed to, or it was never in his nature in the first place.
But something, probably Robin’s slight shaking, or maybe his chubby bare legs, made Lucas take pity on him. “My family likes you, Blessing. They liked your family. We….” His shoulders were tense again. “This is how a coven should act, Persephone says, and my mother too. She also says….” Lucas left that thought unfinished as well. He clenched and unclenched his hands. “I’m sorry the coven made you feel alone.”
He exhaled as though that speech had taken effort, then said, giving Robin no time to process anything, “You’re almost out of firewood in the house. I’ll go get more, and put in an order for some, if you don’t mind.”
He went out to the hall, possibly in search of his boots or a coat, and came back in just to leave by the side door to the yard.
Robin closed his mouth once the door was shut behind Lucas, then shivered hard because the air from outside was freezing.
After another stunned minute, his thoughts whirling, he decided to go back to bed. He got to the kitchen doorway before Lucas returned, heralded by another blast of cold and rain. Robin heard the armful of wood being placed on the island in the middle of the kitchen, and then Lucas gently stomping forward to take Robin’s weight again.
“Sorry,” Lucas said, confusing and irksome until he added, “I should’ve realized you felt worse than you acted when you didn’t argue with me.”
“I don’t argue with you,” Robin answered without thinking, then sighed heavily to hear himself. “I’m not arguing,” he went on anyway, “I’m stating my opinion.”
“You didn’t do that, either,” Lucas returned, and pulled Robin in closer when he stumbled.
Lucas was dripping rain water onto the floor, something he would no doubt clean up once Robin was seen to, regardless of what Robin told him to do. He smelled like winter and water and wood, and he must have felt Robin tremble but likely thought it was Robin’s illness.
He paused almost imperceptibly at the foot of the stairs but followed when Robin headed back to the living room.
Robin sat himself down on the couch… fell onto it, really, but he wasn’t going to be picky. He was there, was the important thing. He continued his fall until he was horizontal, and then blankets were gently resettled around him by someone who should not be there. Robin was happy to see him all the same.
He smiled and meant to say something—he could state that opinion too, but he was halfway to sleep even before Lucas moved his feet onto the couch with the rest of him.
Four
Robin woke with his stomach rumbling, his bladder full, and the ability to smell himself. He sat up with a groan and waitedfor his head to stop spinning before he threw off the blankets in order to stand. Despite the dizziness, he felt better, and would have thought he’d just needed some sleep, except that his first step nearly sent him to the floor.
