hate you eavesdropping.”
“Then come and learn to stop it.”
She huffed out a breath as she climbed the first stair, stomped up past the closed door to his bedchamber, and on up to the next winding flight. At the top, she waited quietly for him to open the door to his workshop.
The first shafts of dawn light flooded through the open roof panel. This device allowed him to see the stars and moonlight, both vital to his work. The opening in the roof remained unseen by others.
He ignored her little gasp when they entered the room, but waited while she stepped forward wide-eyed, staring over at the two semicircular tables covered with herbs, pots, leaves, and twigs.
“Yes, fascinating I know, Sparrow, look your fill. I do not want you distracted. You may look, but please, do not touch anything. I will prepare the incense.”
He kept one eye on her while he poured incense into a large, black metal tray. The costly powder smoldered to life under his glance. Wisps of the fragrant smoke twirled up, calming and sweet.
“Enough,” he said to still her craning neck, her endless examination of the racks of dried herbs hung on the curving rails on one side of the room. “Come, and sit here.” He indicated one of the cushions scattered on the square carpet a little way from the wall where a small, silver star shone.
She sat cross-legged, naturally sliding into the position used for meditation. He brought the incense over and placed the tray before her.
“I want you to look at the star. Breathe in the vapor, but concentrate on the star.”
She nodded, and then took a deep breath, followed by another. The star shone through the pale, sweet-scented smoke. She focused on it.
“Do not turn your head, but tell me, what can you see, Nin?”
“The star,” she murmured.
“Is it bright yet?”
“Yes, very. It’s beautiful.”
The soft tone told more than her words. She had slipped with such ease into the calm of the dream-like state. How could he have missed so much about her? “I want you to sing as you did yesterday.”
“But you said I was out of tune.”
“I do not care how musical you are. Just sing like you did yesterday.”
He winced when she screeched and was still out of tune.
“You know this is different from when you sing aloud?”
“Yes, this is easy.”
By the river gods, she’d even answered in thought. A flash of envy at her ability leaped through him. This was no coincidence as he first suspected it might be. He had taken months to learn to speak the silent words clearly, yet she was a bright beacon who burned with a steady power.
“I want you to try to make the song quiet, Sparrow. Make the sounds soft, so it stays in your head. You will have to concentrate.”
She gave a tiny nod. Tilting his head, he took note of her expression.
The pupils of her eyes had expanded to become huge, dark dilated circles, partly due to the incense, the rest, perhaps fear. To let go this fast could cause nausea, or panic if one were unfamiliar with the sensation. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
He wished she’d picked a different tune. The song she had chosen spoke of lost love. Sorrow filled its words. The noise from her lessened a little. “If you want breakfast, you will have to make a much better effort.”
“Bastard!”
He suppressed his desire to laugh at her irreverence. She did not need reassurance, but a reminder of where she sat. “Speak to me in such terms again and you will spend a week as a toad in a jar.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled, but not in a sulk. She had slid deeper into the trance.
Concerned, for he did not wish her to go further, he spoke. “You must center all your thoughts on quiet. Stay with me and try.”
She leaned down toward the incense tray, her gaze fixed on the star. Gently, he urged her upright. The song grew softer.
“A lot better, but you need more control, Sparrow. Come on, I know you can do it. I am sure you are hungry.”
Quiet came slowly, creeping over him in a wave. Not one sound from her broke the morning stillness. “Oh, well done!”
She turned toward him, her gap-toothed smile widened, and the warts on her chin wagged. The noise returned.
“No, now do it again. Make the singing quiet.”
Once more, her voice lowered until it vanished. The sense of her effort radiated to him. “Do not turn to look at me, but remember this sensation. Can you feel it?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Examine, learn, and remember it. Whenever the thoughts come fast or hard, you must recall this level of concentration to stop them escaping to disturb others who might hear you.”
She nodded.
He sat back, pleased. All in all, she’d done very well for a first attempt. “Now, I want you to look away from the star and look at the floor instead.”
She tilted her head down.
He smothered the tray of incense with a lid. When he glanced back, she still looked at the floor. “Breathe deep. Stretch your legs out. Relax. When you are ready, look at me.”
After several deep breaths, she slowly straightened her legs and smiled up at him.
He offered a silent prayer of thanks for the power of the glamour. Without the effect of his spell, with her fragile vulnerability and her utter trust in him, she could burrow into his soul. He got up and removed the tray of incense. “Blink, stretch, and now, Sparrow, you can eat.”
“Thabit, did I do it right?”
He ruffled her hair, surprised the gray spikes were so soft beneath his palm. The glamour obviously didn’t penetrate further than a visual illusion. He must remember and not touch her again. “Yes, you did very well. You will continue to practice up here with me. But, Nin…” He stepped back and glanced around at the clutter.
“Yes.” She stood.
“You must never come up here alone. There are things here that could hurt you. I would not want to deal with the repercussions. Now, shall we go down to make porridge?”
While she made the porridge, he bathed in the stream. When he returned, she sat quiet as they ate. Might she be ill? The incense could cause nausea and dizziness if inhaled too fast. “Sparrow, are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m remembering.”
“Good, it is important to identify and recall the sensation of control.” He put down his spoon. “Now, while you
