16. Reznyk
Chapter 16
Reznyk
I’M NOT A HEALER
T hey’ve been gone for maybe two hours when I hear the scream.
I drop the bucket full of weeds I’ve pulled from the wet garden and narrow my eyes at the horizon, as if I could see them. Stupid of me; they’re long gone. Still, my heart races as I bend down for the bucket, then dump the weeds over the fence for the rabbits. It’s hard to tell with a scream, of course, but that sounded like a woman.
No, not a woman. That sounded like Kira. And what are the chances some scream-worthy accident would befall Kira so close to my keep?
Why, they’re probably the same as the chances that a woman who bears such a striking resemblance to Lady Lenore Castinac would wander the Dagger Mountains with a man from the Towers and four hired mercenaries.
I sigh as I stretch my back, then rub the sore spot that always flares up after bending over in the garden all morning. The mist is burning off, although the wind still carries an occasional fistful of rain. Still, it looks like it’s going to be a beautiful afternoon.
I walk to the front of the keep and stare down the ridge. Judging from the scream, they’re in the forest just below the lip. Or at least that’s where they’ve set their trap.
They must think I’m an idiot. I turned down their barbaric offer to trade a human being like a bundle of turnips in the marketplace, so now they’re using Kira as bait.
My chest aches. I press my knuckles into my skin as I frown at the horizon. I’ve seen a lot of bastards do a lot of shitty things. Still, this bothers me. The casual cruelty of the whole thing. The way Kira smiled at me in the hunting lodge when she told me she was hunting the fox who stole the moon.
She thinks she’s part of it, whatever she was told their little group is doing. I remember the way Tholious frowned when he said he hadn’t told her yet, and magic flickers across my skin, hungry to be turned into a weapon. Gods, this is why I live alone.
I’m walking before I even realize I’ve made a decision. The wind tugs my hair back from my face and flutters the edge of my cloak. This isn’t the first trap I’ve walked into, and the way things are going, it won’t be the last either.
I’m halfway down the ridge when I see them climbing toward me. I stop, cross my arms over my chest, and wait as the wind toys with the edge of my cloak. It’s the man who was standing with Kira in the meadow, the handsome one who was playing cards with the hunters.
Kira has her arm around his shoulders, which makes something inside of me pinch. Magic hisses along my skin as I imagine how easily I could form a blade and slice that man’s head clean off.
But their embrace doesn’t look especially passionate. Kira is scowling and limping; the man helps her struggle over the rocks. I don’t see anyone else on the ridge, which means they’ve either gone ahead or they’re very good at hiding.
It’s a strange trap. I stand and wait for the pair to make their way to me. The man grins as they approach; Kira looks down at her feet, her cheeks as dark as sunset and her hair pulled back in a tight bun. In the shifting light, it’s less like Lenore’s dull amber and more like molten fire.
“Well, good morning again,” the man declares.
I don’t respond. He doesn’t seem to care.
“Kira had a bit of an accident,” he says.
Kira sits down heavily on a rock. She’s panting. Magic prickles beneath my skin, like it always does when I’m close to a creature in pain.
“That’s convenient,” I finally say.
“Not for me,” Kira snaps.
Our eyes meet, and the mountain air sizzles. I look away quickly, before those angry blue eyes can do any more damage to my insides.
“She twisted her ankle,” the man continues, stating the perfectly obvious. “She can’t make it down the mountain.”
I say nothing. The wind gusts between us, flinging scraps of clouds across the sky. I’m beginning to feel the outline of this particular trap, and I don’t care for it.
“So,” the man says, “can we stay with you for a few days?”
“We?” I reply. That was unexpected.
The man gives me a perfectly charming smile. It’s the kind of smile that makes me think he has a dagger in his palm and he’s about to use it.
“Or she could stay here,” the man continues, waving his hand at the windswept boulder-covered ridgeline. “Until the wolves find her, at least.”
“Zayne,” Kira says. There’s a note of panic in her voice that lodges in my chest like a sliver of ice.
“I don’t relish the thought of a member of Silver City’s Mercenary Guild poking around my home,” I say.
“Just Kira, then,” Zayne replies. “I’m sure you’ll take good care of her.”
There’s a twist to his lips that makes me think he knows exactly what happened in the hunting lodge. But Tholious didn’t seem to know, which means both Kira and this man must have reasons for keeping their mouths shut.
I bring my fingers to the bridge of my nose and close my eyes. I have to admit, it’s a rather brilliant trap. I told Tholious I don’t want the woman, but what choice do I have now? Zayne is right; she can’t make it down the mountain on one leg. And what kind of monster would I be to refuse to take her in?
So I’m supposed to bring her to the keep. And then she’ll tear the place apart looking for the amulet, which she’ll take back to Silver City as soon as she can.
And then Fyrris and his bastard Exemplars will realize the amulet doesn’t have the magic it’s supposed to hold. Which means Fyrris will keep searching for another source, another old god to slaughter.
“Shit,” I hiss under my breath.
I glance at Kira, trying not to stare too obviously. She’s gasping for breath. Sweat has pressed loose strands of hair against her forehead. She looks miserable, exhausted, and mad as all nine hells.
Gods, she’s beautiful. It’s partially her resemblance to Lenore, but there’s more to it than red-gold hair and full lips. Lenore was beautiful like a flower grown inside a hothouse, something delicate and refined. Kira is beautiful like a mountain, something that will be even more breathtaking after a few storms.
Part of me stirs a little lower, and I tear my eyes away from Kira. Maybe she’s here to destroy the home I’ve made. Maybe she’s here to stab me while I sleep. Or?—
My gaze drifts over her again, pulled like a moth toward a lantern. She’s scowling at the man next to her like she wants to drive a rock through his skull.
Maybe she’s just here. Maybe the Towers have someone of hers, and maybe she’s got about as much choice in this as I do.
Less, actually. Because I could turn around and leave the two of them to figure out this problem alone while I drink the rest of the wine I stole, my cabin door locked and the shades pulled. And I wouldn’t put it past a member of the Mercenary Guild to actually leave Kira out here, on the rocks, by herself.
“Fine,” I say.
I meet the man’s gaze. He’s not smiling anymore.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I snap.
The man gives me a little bow, then turns on his heels. I sigh as I watch him trace a path through the boulders. When he disappears, I settle down on a rock near Kira. She’s avoiding my gaze so thoroughly it’s impressive.
Fine. I need to convince her that I’m not a threat to the Towers, and she needs to believe I don’t have the amulet that’s wrapped in cloth and hidden beneath the floorboards under my bed.
I just don’t know where to begin.
“Hey,” Kira says.
Her voice is soft and quiet, almost embarrassed. I look up, and she looks away.
“I, uh, appreciate you not mentioning what happened in the hunting lodge to Tholious,” she says.
I clear my throat. “Me too,” I say. “I mean, I appreciate you not mentioning it.”
She smiles. It’s like the sun breaking through the clouds.
“Thanks,” she replies. “And, you know, thanks for not killing me, too.”
Her smile fades. The world feels colder without it.
“Of course,” I reply. “It’s very rude to kill someone on the first night. I’d wait until the second or third night, at least.”
Our eyes meet, and something flashes between us, an echo of the spark that turned into a fire in the hunting lodge. I clench my jaw against the sudden rush of heat in my core.
“Shit,” she says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
She exhales slowly. Her jaw is clenched, and she’s holding her body in a strange, stiff way that looks exhausting. I glance over my shoulder, trying to estimate how long it would take her to reach my keep without help.
Quite a while, I would guess.
“May I see your ankle?” I ask.
“What?” Kira says, with a tight smile. “Aren’t you going to buy me a drink first?”
“Only if we play Questions afterward,” I reply.
Her cheeks darken, and for a moment she’s very interested in the rock beside her. Then she shifts and lifts her left leg.
“Go ahead,” she says, with a wince.
I catch her boot with both hands. Magic pricks at my skin, making my palms feel hot. I run my fingers carefully along the worn leather at her ankle. Her breath catches, but she doesn’t make a sound.
“What happened?” I ask as I start to undo the laces.
Kira growls something that sounds like fucker . I decide to let the matter rest.
“May I look?” I ask, once the laces are undone and magic is screaming beneath my skin like a pot at full boil.
“Don’t tell me you’re a healer,” Kira replies through her clenched teeth.
“I am not,” I say, meeting her gaze. “And I’m not a magistrate either.”
Her lip curls in the slightest suggestion of a smile. It doesn’t do much to make her look less terrified.
“But I might be able to help,” I finish.
A gust of wind ruffles Kira’s cloak. She turns toward me, and there’s just enough of a glimmer of fear in her eyes to give me an idea about what really happened to her ankle.
I look down at her open boot and the wool-wrapped ankle inside. It’s already swelling and it feels hot, but I don’t see any blood or obvious broken bones. Still, it looks like it hurts. A lot.
It’s too bad the men who came with her are hiding. Because right now, I’d like to kill them all.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” I say. “Ever.”
She looks away, and her shoulders tremble. The wind carries my words to be locked away inside the mountains. Magic sparks and dances over my fingers.
“I have some skills,” I begin, haltingly. “I was never a healer, but I— I can probably make things a little better.”
I fall silent. My heart beats against the inside of my chest. She knows about the amulet, so she must know what I’ve done. The price I paid for the magic trapped inside my body.
Kira blinks, then wipes her eyes with her sleeve. “Fine,” she says. “Go ahead. It’s not like you can make things much worse.”
I try to give her a reassuring smile as I lift her ankle with both hands. She’s wrong, of course.
If there’s one certainty in life, it’s that things can always get worse.