Cursed by Fire by Jacquelyn Frank

deal of gold if you are instrumental in the resolution to this problem.”
    “I see,” Dethan said. “I will consider your offer and give you an answer at dawntide.” Although a heavy part of him thought he might not even be here come morning. But this problem with the Redoe meant he would need a few more days to figure his way around them. One thing he knew from all his time laying siege to cities was that there was always a way for sneaking in and out of a city. There was always some enterprising individual willing to slip beyond the walls to get supplies, which were then sold on the black market or for an exorbitant sum. All Dethan needed to do was find such people.
    “Meanwhile,” the grandina hastened to add, “you will stay here tonight. In comfort. As a guest.”
    “That is not necessary or an appealing idea,” Grannish said, his disdain even more evident.
    “I agree with my daughter. A night of comfort and hospitality may sway you to help us.”
    “A night of the discomforts of war would more effectively persuade me,” Dethan said. “Nothing compelsaction more than being faced with discomfort.” He found them all too comfortable for a city that was supposedly under siege.
    “Are you declining our hospitality, then?” the grand asked, amusement in his eyes.
    “No, of course he isn’t,” the grandina said hastily. “You would not insult us, surely,” she said to Dethan pointedly.
    “No. I will not insult you. I will thank you for your comfort. First … I must go elsewhere. I will return shortly after the juquil’s hour. Only … I do not wish to return too late and disturb the household.”
    “No matter,” Selinda said dismissively. “There is always someone on guard. We will notify them to expect you, that is all.”
    Selinda looked down when Dethan took hold of her hand and moved it back into her lap. She flushed hotly as she was removed from touching all that hot, virile muscle. She had not realized she had left it there all this while. There had been something very comfortable about being in contact with him, and yet very disturbing. He had such strength and energy about him. She had felt that strength in the muscles of his leg, had felt them moving and flexing with his tension. It was a tactile experience that left her strangely hot and uncomfortable.
    She should have been more cautious. He could very well have gotten the wrong idea. She could easily see how he might. It was very forward of her to have done such a thing. But she had been desperate that he not alienate her father and that he not leave. She didn’t fully understand why, but she felt a desperation within herself that he
could not leave
. And she had learned long ago, from listening to the words of the magesses, that feelings as strong as that one were not to be ignored. The magical women of the gods had, over the years,encouraged her to heed those feelings. And heeding them had served Selinda well over time. She was not about to change her habits now.
    The rest of the meal passed with little contribution to the conversation from their guest. She noticed that he kept looking out the window, and with every passing minute, he seemed to grow tenser and more agitated, though only someone paying close attention might notice it.
    “I must go,” he said suddenly, lurching to his feet, his chair scraping hard across the stone flooring.
    “Surely not. You haven’t—”
    “I must go,” he said even more harshly, setting down all remaining protest from her. She silenced and nodded, fighting the urge to come to tears. She knew … knew very well that she was going to pay dearly for standing up to Grannish. Somehow she thought that if Dethan stayed, maybe his presence would delay the inevitable. Or at least lend her strength. But with a deflating sigh, she knew that wasn’t to be.
    Her own father had ignorantly refused to see the abuse she suffered at Grannish’s hands. What led her to believe a total stranger would make