Dangerous Talents by Frankie Robertson Page A

moon.
    She hated feeling helpless. She’d felt like this when her mother lay dying those last two weeks in the hospital. She’d hated it then, and she hated it now. What was she doing here, anyway? Why did she have to start caring about Sorn just to watch him die?
    Cele’s shoulders slumped and she hugged herself tighter.
    There was one small thing she could do, if Dahleven would allow it. Cele went to Ghav’s side and knelt. “You’re both tired. Let me stay with him.”
    They hesitated. At least they’re not saying no right away . Cele looked to Dahleven for a decision. She saw the doubt flicker across his face. He probably didn’t want to leave his friend in the care of a stranger. Cele saw the negative forming in his face when Sorn decided for him. He reached out and grasped Cele’s hand with hot fingers.
    Ghav nodded and rose, saying, “He will thirst. Only let him sip. Call me if his pain increases.” Then he went to slip under a blanket beside Kepliner.
    Dahleven looked at the face of his friend as though he were reading the future there. He grasped Sorn’s other hand. “Until later, my friend.” Then he rose and went to speak with the sentries.
    Cele looked at Sorn’s hand clasping her own, grateful beyond words for his vote of confidence. Her eyes threatened to fill with tears again, but she blinked and swallowed them, unshed. Then she snuggled close under the blanket with him, propping her head on one hand. When she looked at his face she saw him regarding her with aware, fever-bright eyes. She wanted to thank him again for all the small kindnesses he’d shown her, for his forgiveness, but all the words that she thought of seemed inadequate, so she remained silent. But she thought the half smile he gave her said he understood.
    “Dawn will be a long time coming,” he said. “Sing to me.”
    Sing ? She’d never sung without music to guide her and drown her mistakes. Her experience consisted of singing along with the radio, and in church as a child. “I’m not very musical.”
    “I’m not very critical.”
    Cele’s mind went blank. The only songs that came to mind were hymns and Christmas carols. She sang “Amazing Grace” and “Away in a Manger.” She was trying to remember the words to “Oh Come All Ye Faithful,” when Sorn interrupted her.
    “Do you know any happy songs?”
    “Happy songs?” she asked stupidly.
    “Those who crafted the songs you sing…seem not to have been very cheerful.” His voice came in painful gasps. “Could you sing a song with a smile in it?”
    Cele became very aware of the limits of her musical knowledge as she tried to think of an upbeat tune. All she could think of was “Sleigh Ride” which had always set her toes tapping. It seemed terribly inappropriate, but Sorn liked it, so when she finished she started over again, singing softly, “…Our cheeks are nice and rosy, and comfy cozy are we…” By the end of the last chorus Sorn had fallen into a fitful doze.
    She watched his labored breathing. It was no worse than when Ghav left, but it was so ragged that she wondered if she should call the healer anyway. Suddenly, Dahleven appeared out of the darkness. He lay down on Sorn’s other side. Cele expected him to dismiss her, but he only said, “Two will keep him warmer than one.”
    They stared at each other across Sorn, the knowledge that he was dying hanging in the air between them. Then Cele looked away, at her hand held in Sorn’s. When she glanced back at Dahleven, she saw he’d been staring at their clasped hands too.
    “I heard you singing.” Dahleven’s voice was rough.
    Cele grimaced. “I’m sorry. He asked. I didn’t mean to disturb the rest of you.”
    “No. It was…very nice. You…have a good voice.”
    Cele suspected that wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but she let it drop.
    Time passed. Cele tried to avoid Dahleven’s gaze, but no matter how their eyes danced away from each other, they kept meeting. Cele lowered her