Chapter 27 Kasira
KASIRA
DESSEN LUNGED FORWARD.
He seized Kasira’s wrist, clamping something metallic on her skin. In a shock of cold, the magic left her, and her knees buckled. Dessen wrenched her arm painfully behind her, his ragged nails cutting into her skin.
“Release her!” Allaster snarled.
Ambassador Vera’s cold laugh echoed in response. “You don’t know whom you defend, Librarian.”
Kasira’s mind couldn’t keep up with what was happening. It didn’t make any sense. Dessen should have been in a cell awaiting sentencing, and Vera—what was she doing?
The Ambassador dug a hand into Kasira’s hair, wrenching back her head. “Allow me to introduce Kasira Vitalis, con artist, convicted criminal, and deserter of the Malikinar.”
The words funneled through Kasira’s head, once, twice, but they refused to make any sense.
Every part of her told her to run, but when she reached for the magic, she found nothing.
Her power was gone, and she was surrounded by enemies, and Allaster was looking at her as if she had ripped his heart from his chest, and she didn’t know what was happening.
“Allaster—” she began, but Dessen thrust her to the ground. A boot connected with her ribs, sending her onto her back. Dessen freed a knife, holding it to her throat, and seven years of powerlessness pinned her to the spot with a fear so thick it clung to her like swamp scum.
This was it. It was over.
She was going back to Belvar. Back to the cloying darkness, to a quiet so complete, even the sound of her own breathing had been too much to bear.
“Where is Lady Eirlana, you bitch?” Dessen dug the blade into her skin hard enough to draw blood. “What did you do to her?”
They knew where Eirlana was. Knew that Kasira had no idea what had become of the noblewoman’s body.
Why make a show of demanding that information from her?
She clung to the question, desperate for an anchor in the roiling sea threatening to drag her under.
There had to be an explanation for this, and her frantic mind churned in search of it.
Vera had revealed her true identity, but not that she was a spy.
Perhaps this was just another move on the board?
If she was right, then Vera could be trying to pull her out, or get her alone in order to speak to her.
If she was wrong and she turned on Vera, telling Allaster the truth, he would strip her of her magic and title and hand her over to Kalthos.
If there was any rule of the con to live or die by, it was not to give up the game when it appeared that your cover was blown. Acting rashly would only dig her deeper, and her instincts told her something else was happening here. She had no choice but to play it out.
Dessen kicked her again, and she felt something crack. “Where is she?”
“She’s dead!” Kasira screamed, giving the only answer she had and praying it was correct. “All I did was take her place.”
“Enough!” Allaster shoved Dessen back, his magic-enhanced strength sending the Malik flying into the arms of the Kalish guards.
Kasira unfurled and staggered to her feet, steadying herself against the wall.
She dug her fingers under the cuff Dessen had latched on her wrist and stilled when she recognized the material: It was the same as Allaster’s jewelry.
Somehow, the substance was subduing her magic.
Allaster was staring at the cuff too, his pale eyes wide. “Henolite. How …?”
Dessen’s sneer only grew as Kasira’s fingers scrambled at the cuff.
It required a key, and she had nothing to pick it with.
Even Loraya’s hairpin she’d left in the drawer beside her bed, thinking it safer there now that she could summon it at will with magic.
How complacent had she gotten here that she’d stopped keeping something as simple as a pick on her person?
“Detain her,” Vera ordered her soldiers.
Allaster stepped between them, an immovable wall. “No.”
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me, Librarian,” she intoned. “She is not Eirlana Corynth. I suspected it from the moment I saw her and have been investigating her since. She is an imposter, a fugitive of the law, who rightfully belongs to the Kalish authorities. She—”
“Is the Assistant Librarian of Amorlin and not under your jurisdiction,” Allaster interrupted in a tone that dared Vera to contradict him. “Eirlana Corynth or not, the Library chose her. I chose her, and my authority on the matter supersedes yours.”
Kasira gaped at him. She didn’t know how she had expected him to react, but it wasn’t like this.
The rush of warmth she felt at his defense of her turned cold when she realized the truth of why he’d claimed her: He thought that if he let them take her, Vera would replace her with another Assistant, one actually loyal to the Ambassador.
He was only protecting himself.
Is that why Vera had done this? To erase whatever doubt remained in Allaster’s mind that she was the Ambassador’s pawn?
It would explain why she hadn’t told Kasira about it from the beginning.
Just like with the Zeras, she had wanted Kasira’s genuine reaction.
But why take such a big risk when Kasira had already gained Allaster’s trust?
“I think he’s grown attached to her.” Dessen’s laugh shuddered through her. “Perhaps you don’t understand what the Malikinar means, Librarian. Kasira here is a beast slayer.”
Kasira actually flinched. Even without the magic, she could feel Allaster’s disdain.
He refused to look at her, but she could see it in the set of his shoulders, in the trembling of his tight fists.
Her reasons would mean nothing to him. They meant nothing to her, just as this entire charade shouldn’t.
What did she care if Allaster was angry with her?
Vera’s undoing all your work, she told herself. He might trust you aren’t hers, but he will hate you for this.
Lie, echoed back her thoughts.
“Let me make myself very clear.” Allaster’s voice sounded off. There was an undercurrent to it, a rumbling like a gathering storm, and when he spoke, she swore she saw the flash of fangs. “Kasira belongs to me.”
He unclenched his hand to reveal a key, and she realized he must have grabbed it when he shoved Dessen. He tossed it to her, and she undid the cuff. The magic came back to her in a gentle rush, subduing the rising pain in her ribs as bone knit back together.
The look of rigid civility that hardened Vera’s face was flawless.
Kasira had thought her an enthusiast of the art of deception, but she realized now the Ambassador was every bit a practitioner as her.
“I will consider this a great transgression, Librarian,” Vera warned as though this were not the very thing she wanted. “We will not accept it quietly.”
Allaster ripped open the portal room door to Kalthos. “Kindly get the fuck out of my Library.”
With a wave of his hand, the floor tilted sharply upward, sending the whole delegation stumbling through the open door. He slammed it shut behind them.
The silence that followed their departure was suffocating. It tightened about her throat like a noose until she could bear it no longer.
“Allaster—” She reached out a hand.
He rounded on her at last, and suddenly, she wished he hadn’t.
The pain in his eyes cut at something inside her, something that shouldn’t have any room left to feel such things.
“I trusted you. Against every ounce of logic and fiber of my being, I trusted you. And this is what I get? A beast slayer?”
“Let me explain.” She reached for him again, but he tore away.
“I’ve had enough of your lies.”
“Then I’ll give you the truth,” she said, and some deep, twisted part of her wished it were not another trick. Wished she could just be honest for once in her life. “Please. I need you to understand.”
Allaster’s entire body shook. She could feel the rage inside him through the magic, could feel it burn—then still. He snapped his fingers and the world turned, refocusing into his study. He went straight for the decanters of whiskey lining the mantel.
He summoned a glass. “You have five minutes.”
It wasn’t enough time, but then again, she didn’t think there would ever be enough.
She had asked for this chance, but what could she possibly say?
She deserved every ounce of Allaster’s ire.
She had lied to him, betrayed him, endangered everything he cared for, and now she was going to do it all again.
Vera wouldn’t have let Allaster claim her if she thought Kasira would reveal her plans, which meant exposing Kasira’s identity was part of her strategy.
If Kasira was right, then Vera expected her to be able to claw her way back from this, to mend this broken trust. But Vera underestimated Allaster.
This would not be fixed easily, and some part of Kasira wanted to let it break, to sunder it again and again until every piece of it lay shattered at his feet.
But if she told Allaster the real truth, that she had been a pawn of Vera’s all along, he would never trust her. He would turn her right back over to Vera and take his chances with another, and her freedom, her promise, her life—they would be swallowed by the darkness.
She didn’t have a choice.
She didn’t know what she would do if she did.
“I killed Gievra’s mother,” Kasira said at last, relinquishing a different burden. “My Malik unit attacked a pride, and I didn’t realize why the mother hadn’t run until it was too late.”
Allaster snorted derisively and downed the entire drink he’d poured. “You shouldn’t have been there to begin with. None of you should have. But you don’t care about the beasts, just like you don’t care about the Library.”
“You don’t know what it’s like!” Her voice pitched without her permission, and she strangled it back into submission. “I never wanted to be a beast hunter. I’m a con artist, a thief, not a soldier. But I didn’t have a choice.”