Chapter 42 #5
My first instinct was no. My second was worse.
Lock the wing. Put Eiryx at one door, myself at the other, and let Lyra hate me somewhere I knew she was breathing.
That instinct had already driven her around me once.
“I ask what you intend to do before deciding you are trying to get yourself killed.”
Her eyebrows rose. “That is your compromise?”
“It is substantial progress.”
Dax muttered, “For him, it actually is.”
I looked at him. “Would you like your legs broken before or after the healer checks your throat?”
He leaned back against the desk. “There he is.”
Lyra’s mouth twitched before she could stop it. I caught it. So did she. The almost-smile disappeared.
Eiryx picked up the wrapped stone. “I’m going back to the maintenance cut before Halos decides six ward-masters and an interrogation are preferable to competence.”
“I’m coming.”
Lyra stepped forward. “So am I.”
I turned toward her. “Absolutely—”
Her uninjured hand came up. “Think very carefully about the next word.”
I shut my mouth.
Eiryx walked past me. “Look at that. Growth.”
“Keep walking.”
“Gladly.”
The door closed behind him. Lyra waited. I looked at the bandage around her hand. “Your palm is injured.”
“My palm is attached to the rest of me, which remains functional.”
“You were almost blood-marked less than an hour ago.”
“Which seems like an excellent reason for me to understand how the man who tried it got inside.”
“Or an excellent reason for you to stay somewhere warded while I find out.”
Her arms crossed slowly over her chest.
I heard it as soon as I said it. I rubbed a hand over my jaw. “Fine. That sounded exactly like last night.”
“Remarkable self-awareness.”
“Do not enjoy it too much.”
“No promises.”
I looked at her for a long moment. Every instinct I possessed told me to refuse.
My instincts had kept me alive through childhood, war, court, my father.
They had also taught me how to treat every person I cared about like a piece on a board that could be moved out of danger by force.
That method worked beautifully until the person refused to be moved.
“You come with us. You stay where either Eiryx or I can see you until we know whether there are more blood constructs. If anything shifts or comes at you, you do not chase it alone. If I tell you there is danger beneath your feet, you move first and argue with me after.”
Lyra considered me. “And if I see a threat you miss?”
“You tell me.”
“And you listen?”
“I said compromise, not personality transplant.”
Her eyes narrowed.
I sighed. “Yes. I listen.”
“Then I can work with that.”
It was less than I wanted. More than she owed me. Perhaps the closest either of us would ever come to surrender.
Dax slid off the desk behind us. “Before anyone forgets I’m here, I would also like to participate in the part where we find the man who tried to strangle me.”
“You’re going to a healer.”
“That sounded like an order.”
“It was.”
He looked at Lyra. “Do I also get to raise my hand and negotiate?”
“No,” she said. “Your throat looks terrible.”
Dax stared at her. “Betrayal.”
“You almost died.”
“I have almost died several times around all of you. No one cared this much before.”
“Perhaps because this time your voice is worse.”
He touched his throat. “It is a little impressive.”
“Go to the healer, Dax.”
He looked at me. “You two are becoming disturbingly similar.”
Lyra and I both spoke at once. “Go.”
Dax stared between us. Then he pointed toward the door. “That. That was horrifying.”
For the first time since entering the vault, the tension eased. Only slightly. Dax left muttering about oppressive leadership.
Lyra watched him go, then looked back at me. “You are still not forgiven for threatening his legs.”
“He ignored me and walked directly into a compromised vault.”
“So did I.”
“I am aware.”
“Are you going to threaten mine too?”
I looked her over deliberately. Her eyes narrowed. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because then I would miss the way you wrap them around me.”
Her mouth parted. For half a second, the anger between us changed shape. Heat cut through it. Familiar. Dangerous. I should have left it alone. I never had been particularly good at leaving her alone.
Lyra recovered first. “That was not remotely appropriate.”
“I wasn’t attempting to be appropriate.”
“Obviously.”
“Are you coming or not?”
She tightened the bandage around her palm. “Lead the way, Instructor.” There was enough bite in the title to remind me where we stood. Good. I deserved it.
I opened the door. Solstice music drifted faintly through the empty corridor.
Two nights. Somewhere inside the Sanctum, my father’s people had already crossed wards meant to keep them out.
Soon Lyra would stand in a hall crowded with candidates, instructors, Council delegates, guards, and enough competing magic to tear through any ward if someone knew where to press.
They had tried to put a leash in her blood tonight.
They would not get another chance. Lyra stepped past me, silver-blue Starlight faint beneath the skin of her uninjured hand.
I followed. For the first time in years, the thought of my father coming for the woman I had chosen did not fill me with fear. It made me hope he tried.