23. Reznyk
Chapter 23
Reznyk
RESCUING YOU
I flinch. The willow branch in my hand snaps in two as magic sears my skin.
One of my wards just snapped. I blink at the broken branch. Magic churns under my skin. That was close. Close enough to hurt. Panic pulses through my skull. Magic reaches across the meadow and down the ridge, feeling for anything out of place. If someone came for Kira?—
No. If another human came into this valley, I’d know. No one could make it this close without warning.
Which leaves only the obvious option. I shade my eyes and stare down the ridge to the ruined keep. From here, a shoulder of rock hides my garden and the cabin. All I can see is the very top of the tower. The locked room where I keep my wards. Including the tiny ward that protects the lock on the door.
That must be where Kira is. When I woke up this morning, I thought she’d be long gone. But I’m an idiot. Why would she leave in the night? Why not wait for me to give her the perfect opportunity to search the place and then run?
I remember the mug of tea she handed me, and how strange it felt to have someone do something for me with no expectation of return. Except she did expect something in return, didn’t she?
My hands clench into fists, mangling what’s left of the willow branch. What did I expect? She told me exactly why she was here. I’m the fool who let myself get distracted by a mug of tea and a shapely backside.
I shove the willow branch into my pocket and begin my descent down the mountain. I move slowly, letting my rage subside as clouds chase themselves across the sky and the wind picks up, carrying a hint of rain. Kira’s not going to find anything in the tower. I might as well let her exhaust herself looking.
By the time I reach the cabin, it’s clear she’s gone. Xavier prowls restlessly by the door, then sprints outside as soon as I open it, as if he too can’t wait to leave.
I know what I’m going to find, but I search the tower anyway. Her pack is gone. Aside from that, she didn’t touch much. The chair on the third floor is still in the center of the room, and the crates are still piled haphazardly around the second. She even closed the door to the top room and locked it behind her. I open it, then walk through the room, feeling my wards.
Nothing. She could have broken them all, left a room filled with shards of glass and shattered wards. She could have torn the cabin apart, thrown bedding into the fire, ripped up the floor boards. Instead, she moved like a ghost, almost as if she were trying to deliberately obscure her presence.
Finally, I check the garden. I feel the amulet’s dull, hungry pulse without even moving the broken bucket covering its hiding place. I stare at the pile of scrap wood with my arms crossed over my chest for a long time, trying to think of a better hiding place. Wishing I could burn the thing, or drown it, or finally be free of it.
A tremble flows across my magic, a sudden spike of interest from the wolves. The pack has moved down the valley, following the elk as they seek fresher pastures. As the sun sinks toward the jagged western horizon, the wind carries a howl past the keep.
And I think of Kira, alone in the woods, with an injured ankle.
Good. As long as she’s away from here. The wolves are following elk into the other drainage. If she’s heading to the Golden Peaks Hunting Lodge, she has nothing to worry about. And where else would she go?
I walk to my cabin, pull open the door, and stand on the threshold. The stewpot has been washed and hung on the wall, next to the two mugs from this morning. She shoveled the ashes out of the hearth. Nine hells, she even made the bed.
I close my eyes and breathe as my magic chases the wolves. They’re excited about something, but from here, I can’t tell what. Something small, and trembling, and afraid.
I pull the door closed and lope down the ridge. Kira’s tracks are easy to spot once I drop below the boulder field. She’s following the road to the meadow, of course, just like I thought. She’ll be in the hunting lodge before nightfall?—
The trail washed out halfway down the mountainside.
I freeze, staring at the ground before me. Water broke across the trail to the lodge, carrying sand and stone into the other drainage. On the far side of the break there are a few large, smudged boot-prints pointed toward the Golden Peaks Hunting Lodge. The men who came with Kira. The bastards who wanted to trade her.
But on the fan of scattered sand and mud left by the stream, there’s another print. It’s smaller, fresher, and pointing directly away from the Golden Peaks. Away from any roads, in fact, and into the drainage where the elk have gone and the wolves have followed.
My magic trembles with the low, distant hum of another human in pain. I glance at the sky. The sun is close to the western horizon. There’s not much daylight left.
A long, slow howl rises from the forest around me. The excitement of the hunt pulses through my magic, tugging me forward. The washed-out drainage below me is steep; I find two places where the tracks reveal that Kira slipped, and my gut clenches with a mixture of rage and guilt. Gods above, how could she have been so stupid?
How could I have let her go?
Howls and yips surround me. I still can’t see the wolfpack, so for a moment it feels like the forest itself has started to cry. There’s a distant, heavy crash, the sound of breaking branches, and panic floods my magic. Grief and rage, terror and thrill. The hunger of the wolves. The fear of their prey.
And then, suddenly, I see Kira. She’s standing on a rise in the forest, her back to a tree and a little silver blade trembling in her fist. Her wide eyes flash in the fading light. Her blade points directly at my chest. I raise my hands in the air.
“The wolves won’t hurt you,” I say.
Already, I feel the wolves withdrawing as their prey crashes further down the drainage, running blindly into the pack’s ambush at the mouth of the valley.
“What about you?” Kira growls.
I blink. She’s leaning heavily against the tree. Pain comes off her in waves, radiating from her ankle like heat from a fire. Godsdamn my lack of healing abilities.
“Kira,” I say, in the same sort of voice I used with Xavier when I tried to get him to eat after fishing him out of the river. “I’m not going to hurt you either.”
The blade trembles. “I broke into your weird mirror room,” she says, almost like she’s daring me to challenge her.
“I know.”
Her shoulders drop. “Then why are you here?” she asks.
It’s a good question. I’m not sure how to respond.
“Why are you here?” I reply, answering a question with a question.
Kira pulls her hair back from her face in a way that manages to look indignant, despite the circumstances.
“I’m leaving,” she says. “You said I couldn’t stay. So, I’m going back.”
“Back to where?”
She scowls at me. “The hunting lodge.”
“You’re going the wrong way.”
Her mouth opens, then closes. She shakes her head. “Fuck,” she finally mutters. “I knew it.”
“And you’re hurt,” I say, as gently as I can manage.
She shakes her head, like she’s trying to dismiss the way she’s resting all of her weight on just one leg.
“I’m fine,” she says. She pulls in a deep breath, then tucks the little blade back into a sheath on her belt. “If you could just point me in the right direction?—”
“Really?” I say. “You’re going to keep going? At night? With the wolves?”
A howl that almost sounds like a human scream rises from the woods behind her. Kira flinches.
“Shit,” she hisses. “Why do you have to live in such a terrible place?”
“Because I’m a terrible person,” I answer.
“That’s not funny,” Kira growls.
“It’s not meant to be,” I say.
“You’re not terrible,” she snaps.
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you take in strange women who show up uninvited on your doorstep,” she says, with a strange expression on her face. “And you even use your magic to heal them.”
I swallow. My throat suddenly feels tight. Kira glances at her empty hands, then up at me.
“And— here you are,” she continues, in a small voice. “Even though you know I’m supposed to rob you. You could have let me die out here. You’d have one less thing to worry about if I got eaten by wolves.”
“I’m not going to let you die,” I say. It comes out as a growl.
“I know,” Kira replies. The ghost of a smile dances across her face. “Because you’re not a terrible person.”
My face feels hot. I turn away. She’s wrong, but I can’t find the words to prove it. Kira makes a strangled coughing sound.
“So,” she says. “Did you happen to bring any of that willow bark?”
She’s watching me with an apologetic smile, like she’s asking for something she doesn’t expect to get. Or perhaps she’s trying to make a joke. I sigh.
“No,” I admit. The willow branches are still on the table in my cabin, where I threw them before sprinting down the mountain like a maniac.
Her smile fades. The pain radiating from her body makes the magic in my body churn. There’s a crash from the forest, and then a scream. Kira flinches. A moment later, the wolves begin their victory howl. I close my eyes. Joy and grief flicker through the connection between my magic and the creatures of these mountains. The elk’s death is life for the wolves, and my gods, there is so much pain in this world and so little I can do?—
Wait. My eyes snap open. That’s not entirely true, is it? There is something I can do to alleviate some small measure of the pain swirling through the Daggers tonight.
“You know I’m not very good at healing with magic,” I begin. “But, if you’d like, I could try to help?—”
“Gods, yes, please!”
I realize I’m smiling as I kneel in the pine duff in front of her.
“Sit down,” I say. “I’ll do what I can.”
She does. I remove her boot carefully, then cradle her ankle. The pain isn’t as sharp as it was yesterday. Still, the dull throb of it sinks into my fingers. And, horrifyingly, some lower parts of me take a sudden interest in what my hands are doing.
Stop it, I tell my godsdamned cock as I let magic flow through my hands and into Kira’s body. She makes a sound that does nothing to dissuade my cock. I grit my teeth and do what I can.
When I’m finished, I set her foot down on the ground. Her eyes blink open, and she smiles at me in a slow, tired way that makes me wonder what she would look like first thing in the morning, with the sun filtering through the windows to dance across her hair.
Fuck. I’m sitting far too close to this woman, but standing up is going to reveal my pointed interest. I try to find something to stare at that’s not the curve of her lips or the way her chest presses against her shirt.
“Thank you,” Kira says. Her voice is thick, and gods, she looks exhausted. “Now, how do I get to the lodge?”
“You’re not going anywhere tonight,” I reply.
She glances over her shoulder, toward the fading sounds of the wolves’ victory party.
“The wolves won’t hurt you,” I say. “The pack caught the elk they were chasing. They’ll spend the next few days eating.”
Kira doesn’t look like she’s found much comfort in my words.
“I’ll stay with you tonight,” I say, like the idiot I am. “I’ll keep watch.”
Kira nods slowly. “I’ll leave first thing in the morning,” she says. “I’m sure I can make it to the lodge now.”
I glance at the sky as it gently fades to indigo. Two stars dance there already. No, make that three.
“We’re closer to the keep,” I say.
Kira frowns. “You said I couldn’t stay there.”
“You can’t,” I reply. “Not forever, I mean. But I did tell your mercenary friend that you could stay until your ankle healed.”
“My ankle is fine,” she growls.
Gods, I’m smiling again. When did that happen?
“It’s going to be rather inconvenient if I have to keep rescuing you,” I say.
Kira gives me a look that could freeze water in the bottom of a well.
“Besides,” I add, “I can think of a few things we can do together while you’re there.”