Chapter 26: The Night Watch

The watch ended at two, and neither of them went to their tower.

Harry did not remember deciding it.

They came down the cliff path in the dark with the key between them.

The whole ring of stones lit gold along the hill as they passed.

The lane was empty.

The gate opened without a sound, as if somebody had oiled it.

Draconia turned the key in the green door with her chin up and her hand perfectly steady.

Inside it smelled of damp and lavender and cold stove.

The sheets were still on the chairs.

She shut the door behind them and leaned her back against it.

"I'm not going to make a speech," she said.

"Good."

"I have been making speeches for a year. I am out of them."

"I know," said Harry.

"Stop saying you know."

He crossed the hall in two steps and took her face in both hands.

She kissed him before he could say anything else.

It was nothing like the gallery.

It was slow, and then it was not.

Her fingers were in the front of his coat, dragging it open, and he could feel her shaking.

"The back bedroom," said Draconia, against his mouth. "The one with the rail. I don't want it."

"Where, then?"

"Upstairs," she said. "The big one. It has a bed with a canopy that smells of mothballs."

"That's romantic."

"I will hit you," she said.

He laughed, and picked her up, and she locked her arms round his neck and said that she had not asked to be carried.

The stairs creaked at every tread.

The big bedroom had a bed with a dust sheet over it.

He pulled the sheet off in one pull and threw it in the corner.

She stood in the middle of the floor and began to undo the buttons of her blouse.

She did it quickly, with her eyes on his face, and she did not look away.

The blouse fell on the boards.

She wore nothing under it but a plain white shift, and when she pulled that over her head as well, he forgot how to breathe.

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