Chapter Twenty-Six
“It’s an hour’s ride,” Seche said. “Ios will bring you breakfast, and I’d like to leave within the half hour.”
Nerves nipped at Nick, uneasy at the prospect of returning to the river. “Where’s Desre’s ship?”
The corner of Seche’s eye twitched, his gaze sliding sideways at the door—where Kit was beyond it—and then back to Nick.
The meaning of his look was perfectly clear.
Kit rose from the bed and pulled on his clothes in brisk, utilitarian movements.
He righted his sleeves over his gloves with a sharp snap of each wrist, a fire burning bright in his eyes.
“Okay, I’m good to go,” Nick said, brushing over the distrust.
“No,” Kit said. He caught the edge of the door and waited for Nick to move his foot to open it fully. “I’m coming too,” he added in a tone of voice that reminded Nick of when he’d first been abducted. That listen to me or else voice.
Seche simply raised his brows. “Afraid not.”
Kit flashed his canines, tail slashing through the air in a quick, agitated move. Seche straightened. Wariness crossed his face as his eyes darted to Kit’s tail.
“Kit,” Nick cautioned.
“They will use you,” Kit said in a voice of wrought iron. “They will trade you for food and weapons and demand the symbol too. This is just a way to get you away from me so that they can do so.”
Nick had been paying attention to these men since they’d been taken. He’d noticed the way they behaved around Kit. The way they spoke about him. To him. And Nick didn’t think he was wrong—they cared about Kit. “I disagree,” he said.
“They –”
“They know you’ve scent-marked me,” Nick interrupted what he knew was to be an angry argument. “They’re not going to use me.”
Kit had asked Nick not to kill the chickens on board simply because they had tails similar to his. He’d asked him not to ruin the coffee seeds just because he was angry with him. Kit was used to having things he cared about used against him and ruined. He expected it.
“Have they ever harmed something you cared about?” Nick asked. “If the answer is ‘yes’, then I won’t go without you.”
Kit’s tail went still.
“Answer me honestly.”
Torment flashed across Kit’s expression, leaving behind reluctance. Kit’s jaw set. “Ios once dissolved sugar into my wine.”
Nick’s lips twitched. “Kit.”
“I cared about that glass of wine.”
“Kit.”
“It was harmed.”
Nick ducked his head, physically hiding his face with his hand as he laughed. Seche breathed out a huff of amusement.
Kit’s tail lashed.
Nick sobered, wiping away a loose tear. “I’ll be coming back here,” he said. “I’m not going to disappear down the river with the merfolk, alright? I promised you.”
Kit’s chest heaved. His eyes were filled with reluctance, but despite that, his chin moved down in a stony nod.
“Ios will show you to the stables.” Seche seized the opportunity, nodding briskly before disappearing down the hall.
Ios showed up shortly after. Nick sat and ate breakfast as Kit rubbed numbing salve onto his back. Kit both refused Ios’s offer to do it and refused to take off his leather gloves, but luckily the gloves were so soft that it didn’t hurt Nick when the material touched his skin.
“These are healing well,” Kit murmured after a long pause, a note of guilt in his voice. Nick hoped for Kit’s sake that they’d heal without any scarring; that Kit wouldn’t have any reminder of what Desre had made him do.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Nick lied.
Ios brought a change of clothes: a loose shirt, soft cotton trousers and the same boots as last night.
No jacket was offered, and as soon as Nick stepped into the courtyard, he understood why; the sun was large in a blemish-free sky.
Nick was sweating by the time they reached the barn.
It was a long building, connected to the courtyard by double doors wide enough to fit a wagon, and lined with dozens of large stables.
Where the solid stone stables ended, wooden fencing began; horses were divided into small fields in threes.
The grass was yellow and sun-bleached, mounds of hay the only food source for the horses.
Ios guided and Kit accompanied, pressed tight to Nick’s side with his tail protectively coiling around his legs every other step.
Nick kept expecting to trip over it. “I’ve never ridden a horse,” Nick said when Ios pulled out an animal that towered above him.
Watching Laurence’s foray into horse-riding as a ten-year-old was the closest Nick had ever got, and those had been reasonably sized Connemara ponies.
Seche waited in the courtyard mounted on a grey horse, even taller than the one being offered to Nick. The courtyard was busy, kits moving here and there, and Nick recognised many from last night’s festivities. There were no signs of hangovers on any of them.
“You will pick it up quickly,” Kit said reassuringly.
“Simply keep your balance centred.” He went to the horse, pulled down the stirrups and adjusted their length.
“They are well trained. From a young age, my uncle worked at the council’s stables in Aridia.
Most horses are bred for physical ability, rarely temperament, and he dealt with many animals that were dangerous to handle.
Since then, he has spent his life carefully breeding lines with gentle natures. ”
Nick went to Kit’s side, listening.
“When I was younger, I thought that he did it for the sake of the stable boys handling the horses.” Kit lifted a flap and tightened buckles that strapped the saddle to the horse’s belly, the leather as soft and pliable as his gloves.
“I said as much once, but he told me that it was for the horses that he did it. The dangerous ones are beaten until they submit or break. They live miserable, unfortunate lives—no matter where they end up—and it’s all the worse when it’s a physically impressive animal too.
More is wanted of them. But those that are gentle and willing, unless they end up in the hands of someone truly horrid, will have a far more peaceful life. ”
“Your uncle sounds kind.”
Kit righted a protective strip of leather over the metal buckles and lowered the flap back into place.
A troubled look firmed his features, lips flattening into a thin line before he parted them to speak.
“In order to do the good he wanted, he needed to be more than a stable boy—he needed to be in charge, to be the man deciding breeding lines. He did not get there by heralding about breeding gentle horses. He got there by training the dangerous ones better than anyone else. He worked his way up within the system already in place until he got to the top; and only once he had that position firmly in his grip, did he make the changes he wanted. I think that he would do good for Aridia if he were to dismantle the council. But he knows that the good he can do will come after he takes power, and not before, and he will do what he needs to get there.”
Nick considered his words and nodded. “I’ll be careful.”
Kit turned from the saddle to Nick. Blue eyes raked over every inch of his face before he bowed forwards, pressing his forehead to Nick’s. “I am choosing to trust you and your judgement. This feels like a trick to steal you away from me, but if you do not think so, I will believe in you.”
Kit’s skin was warm. Nick turned up his palms, a gentle ask, and Kit’s tail slid against his grip. “Thank you.”
“If my fears are true, and you are used as a bargaining chip and not allowed to return—may I come and find you?” Kit asked softly. “I know that you will end up in your home if that happens, so you will be where you should…” He released a wounded noise. “But I do not wish to be parted.”
Nick shied away from the thought of being suddenly whisked away back home, leaving Kit behind to fight Desre alone. Not happening. No way. He squeezed Kit’s warm tail, the texture so smooth and soft.
“Come find me,” Nick said. “Or I’ll come find you. Not that I know where I am, but I’ll figure it out.”
Kit drew in a deep, steadying breath and stepped back. “It is a promise.”
◆◆◆
Horses were far wobblier than boats, but Julia—Nick’s horse was a girl—was as calm as Kit promised.
She walked side by side with Seche’s horse without any instruction from Nick.
It allowed him a chance to study the landscape.
They walked along a dirt road marked by wagon wheel tracks, with deciduous-looking trees lining their way, providing shade and relief from the sun.
Birds sang and flitted from branch to branch, and they seemed to be the only other life aside from themselves.
Through breaks in the trees were long stretches of barren, yellow fields.
Any building Nick spotted was run down, abandoned.
“People don’t live here?” he asked.
“There are houses nearer the river. But along this strait, there are few who work the land; it has stopped yielding crops, and people have moved on,” Seche answered. “Councilman Greya used to live in the castle beyond in the winter months, but he has not resided there for many years now.”
Nick glanced at him. “Is this place Aridia?”
“Technically, yes. These lands have belonged to kits for generations.”
“And now it’s the base of operations for you guys.” Nick gestured to Seche’s electric blue cloak. “You know, we’re not exactly going to be inconspicuous with you dressed like that. Can you tell me where Desre is now?”
“Their ship continued upriver,” Seche said.
“She will likely be in Aridia by now—and by that, I mean the heart of our home—the main town. Do not fear; if there was anyone nearby to grab you, we would simply wait until they were gone. And as for being inconspicuous…I am not the one who will be accompanying you to the river.” Seche leaned back in his saddle, and both horses stopped.