Dangerous Talents by Frankie Robertson Page A

you don’t stop him. Come in out of the heat.”
    Ghav laughed. “He’s right. Go. Rest. We’ll talk later.”
    Cele put on her socks, then gathered up her belt-pack and boots and followed Sorn inside.
    “How’s your knee?” Sorn asked, sitting down cross-legged on Cele’s left.
    “It looked worse than it was. Ghav fixed me up so it doesn’t hurt at all.”
    “He has a Talent for that.”
    “I guess so.” Ghav had a talent for healing. Sorn had a talent for kindness and Dahleven had a talent for pissing her off.
    Cele changed the subject. “I don’t know anything about anything or anybody here. Tell me about yourselves.”
    A twinkle appeared in Sorn’s eye. “I’ve been in Lord Dahleven’s company now for six years. I like roast duckling, sleeping late on holidays, and my favorite color is blue.”
    Cele snorted, and dug Halsted’s dried fruit from her pack. “What about your family? Do you have brothers and sisters?”
    “None living. My only brother died before I was born. The fever took my mother and sisters five years ago, so it’s just me and my father now. What about you? Do you come from a large family?”
    “No,” Cele said around a mouthful. She didn’t want to talk about herself. She was more interested in what Sorn’s life was like. “What’s your father like?”
    “He’s a jeweler. His Talent is Enhancing Beauty, so everyone wants one of his pieces. When I was younger, I wanted to be just like him.”
    “You wanted to be a jeweler?” Cele couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice. Sorn seemed so comfortable in his skin, she couldn’t imagine him doing anything else. Certainly not making jewelry.
    Sorn chuckled. “No. I wanted his Talent. When he was young all the women wanted to be seen with him.”
    “Because he made them jewelry?”
    Sorn gave her an odd look. “Because his Talent made them beautiful. Before he learned to harness it, his Talent ran loose. Anyone within its aura appeared more beautiful. When I was young, I thought being surrounded by beautiful women sounded pretty good.”
    That sounded new-agey. “I doubt you had much trouble gaining the attention of the ladies, even without your father’s talent thingy.”
    “You have the truth of it, Lady Celia! Our Sorn here is a smooth hand with the ladies. He’s not lonely much of the time, are you Sorn?” Fendrikanin grinned and winked at Cele.
    “Shut it, Fender,” Sorn growled.
    “That’s right. Our Sorn here seldom lacks feminine companionship. Or should I say, sisterly companionship?” Fendrikanin leaned forward to push his jibe home with a direct look.
    Sorn rolled his eyes. “Yes, Fender, back home I’m surrounded by women. Thronged. Hounded.”
    “I’m a little confused,” Cele said tentatively. “I thought you were an only child?”
    “He is, but half the ladies of Quartzholm would adopt him if they could.” Fendrikanin’s eyes glinted with his joke.
    “We won’t discuss your reputation with the fairer sex, as there is a lady present.” Sorn looked away from Fendrikanin with exaggerated disdain, but there was a sparkle of humor in his eyes. “Actually, he’s right.” Sorn’s mouth twisted in a rueful grin. “The ladies at home do love me—as a brother. Whenever you see me engaged in conversation with a woman, it’s a safe bet she’s asking advice on how to deal with her beau.”
    Cele didn’t say anything, chagrined to recognize a similar feeling within herself. Of course women talked to Sorn, he was easy to talk to. Sorn was comfortable. He was…safe. “I see your problem.”
    “Now it’s my turn to ask a question.”
    Cele grinned. “You can ask.”
    “A true lady. She promises nothing.” Fendrikanin sketched a bow.
    Cele laughed and inclined her head.
    Dahleven appeared in the cave entrance. He gestured and Knut left the cave. Cele wondered if he would quash the conversation like the sudden appearance of a study hall monitor.
    Fendrikanin seemed undeterred. “We