Chapter 23 #2
“Alwyn?” Krujha asked, concern in his eyes again. He gave a start, realizing he had been silent for too long, and his conflict was probably obvious on his face. “Everything alright?”
“Yes,” he stammered. “I just...”
The words wouldn’t come. He could so clearly see Tessarion’s disappointed face—could hear his oft-repeated instructions that mages of the Order had no friends—that mages of the Order worked alone, or they did not work at all.
But Tessarion was hundreds of miles away, safe in his secluded office. And Krujha was here, in the belly of the beast with him, risking his own safety to bring Alwyn the tiny comforts of a bar of soap and a book. Suddenly, that seemed far more important than the words of his mentor.
“I have to tell you something,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.
Krujha raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, instead gesturing for Alwyn to proceed.
“I was sent here... I was sent here to ensure Zesh never makes it to Drol Kuggradh. To kill him. To kill them both now, before they can be captured.”
The words were barely above a whisper, but the silence that followed felt deafening.
Alwyn watched Krujha’s face for any sign of emotion, his heart pounding.
The orc’s face had become carefully neutral, and he was staring at Alwyn in complete stillness—not even blinking.
For a moment that seemed to last a lifetime, Alwyn’s nerves turned to utter despair.
Maybe that was where Krujha drew the line, and he would refuse to help Alwyn any further.
Maybe now he would be well and truly alone in this deadly task.
A jolt of shock shuddered through him as a wide grin stretched across Krujha’s tusks. The orc laughed, raising a hand to stifle himself.
“What?” Alwyn gaped, confusion and anger flooding him all at once. “I’m not—I’m serious!”
“I know, I’m sorry,” Krujha said through barely controlled giggles. “It’s just—it’s a lucky thing we were paired together back then. I planned to kill Zesh from the start, too.”
Alwyn froze, feeling his eyes widen. He might have stumbled back, reeling in shock, if he weren’t already sitting down—of all the things he expected Krujha to say, that hadn’t even registered as a possibility.
All this time, they had been secretly working toward the same goal. Had any of them ever truly intended to capture Zesh and return him to Drol Kuggradh? Was the whole mission a ruse?
Or—the thought made his skin crawl—was this just another act Krujha was putting on?
He had seen glimpses of a darker version of Krujha.
One that had glanced at him as if he were a crawling insect.
One that fit in so easily with this camp of rebels, none of whom would have any qualms about killing Alwyn at a moment’s notice.
Alwyn had convinced himself that was the act—that this was the real Krujha—but if the real Krujha had been keeping such an important secret from him, how could he be sure of the orc’s true intention?
No, that wasn’t fair, Alwyn thought. He’d been concealing the same truth, so it would be hypocritical to allow that to taint his image of Krujha. They both worked with secrets; it was hardly their fault that neither had known the other was privately on the same page the whole time.
He realized Krujha had been watching him just as carefully, waiting for his reaction. But when Alwyn’s eyes met his, that familiar, soft smile returned to his face.
“I always suspected there was more going on with you, little spitfire,” he chuckled, reaching over to trace a finger lightly down Alwyn’s cheek.
Despite the gravity of the situation, Alwyn couldn’t help the slight shiver of pleasure that raced through him at the casual affection.
“No offense, but you’re not a very good spy. ”
Alwyn bristled, scowling, and Krujha laughed. Suddenly, everything felt familiar and easy again. “Maybe. But I’m an excellent assassin, and that’s what counts.”
“I believe that,” Krujha said warmly, still smiling as he leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “So… now all our cards are on the table, and we can actually work together on this.”
Alwyn nodded eagerly. “See why I’m not so concerned about giving magic to the druid?”
“I understand better now, although I still think it’s ill-advised,” Krujha said, grimacing. “But you’re hardly in a position to deny him, so it is what it is.”
“I’ve been waiting for a good opportunity to get them both,” Alwyn said. “Maybe this is it. I’ll probably be alone with the druid.”
Krujha shook his head. “I think we need to coordinate something together. Things will devolve quickly once they’re both dead, and I don’t think either of us will want to be around for that.”
“Right.”
“Don’t do anything rash for now,” Krujha continued. “Let’s both think about this now that we know we can rely on each other, and we’ll come up with a plan.”
He stood up, and Alwyn frowned. “Are you leaving already?”
“I shouldn’t stay long today,” Krujha sighed, though he looked guilty even as he stepped toward the back wall of the tent. “But I’ll come back tomorrow night, and we can hopefully spend more time together. You can tell me what you share with the druid, and we can figure out a plan to move forward.”
Alwyn wanted him to stay. He could feel the plea bubbling up in the back of his throat, but clamped it down. He was right. The longer he stayed, the more at risk they both were; so he tamped down the desire to beg Krujha to stay with him a little longer until the moment of weakness passed.
“All right,” he finally croaked out. “Be safe, then. I’ll have more to tell you tomorrow.”
Krujha nodded, smiling. Then his expression faltered as his gaze dropped, and he stifled a curse, stomping a foot—the faint squeak of a mouse answered.
“Shoo, shoo,” he hissed. Alwyn rose quickly, but by the time he was peering over, the mouse was already gone.
“I’ve been seeing them all over,” he said, dismayed. He was sure that was hardly the first one to seek shelter in his tent, but the thought of mice crawling around him in his sleep made his skin prickle unpleasantly.
“They’ve been a pain to keep out of the food stores, too,” Krujha sighed, his nose still wrinkled in distaste. “Sorry if that one followed me in.”
“I’m sure it didn’t,” Alwyn said, shaking his head.
Krujha hesitated, looking back at him again, then reached out to lightly squeeze Alwyn’s shoulder.
Alwyn let out a nervous chuckle. “Don’t be so worried.
You’re the one I’m worried about. I might be trapped here, but I’m alone most of the day.
You’re the one who should be concerned about being found out. ”
“I can handle myself,” Krujha said, smiling wryly. “Just wish you were closer. It’d be easier to make sure you’re safe that way.”
Warmth suffused Alwyn’s chest at that, spreading from his heart to his face through each of his limbs.
“I know,” he said softly. “I... Well, thank you for doing what you can.”
Krujha’s expression softened even further. He gave Alwyn’s shoulder one last, gentle squeeze, then slipped out between the panels of the tent and out into the quiet night.
Alwyn stood there silently for a long moment, until he returned to his bed, fishing out the sack Krujha had left with him.
He’d have to keep it hidden when the guard came to feed him, but no one would come until morning.
He considered trying to read, but ended up huddled there until he fell asleep, hugging the sack to his chest.