NINE #3
“I’ll give you two a minute,” Bishop says, then backs completely into the shadows.
“This is for the best,” I murmur, willing myself to believe it. “Stay with them. Keep them safe.”
Kieren doesn’t say a word.
“And tell Isidore how you feel.” This time, my voice breaks.
He releases a heavy sigh. “Then Broderic will kill me.”
“Regret will kill you faster.” I muster up a smile. “Besides, her marriage prospects just diminished significantly.”
Neither of us laughs.
“I’ll do this,” he says before lowering his voice. “But once the troops arrive and I can get some money together, I’m coming for you.”
And then he’ll never be safe. “Kieren, you belong in Damalis with your family.”
“You are my family,” he corrects me.
“But the others—”
“I’m nothing to them. Nothing.” He slumps back in the seat, his head falling forward from the weight of his confession. “You’re the only one who’s ever really seen me as family.”
I don’t know what to say. Don’t know how to convince him otherwise. Not when it’s clear he believes it.
“That’s not true,” I say weakly.
“We both know it is.” His answering smile is soft and resigned. But he squares his shoulders and reaches for the door. “Send word.”
He ducks out of the coach, and an emptiness spreads through me. He’s gone before I realize we didn’t say goodbye.
My hands shake as I cross them in my lap, fighting the urge to wrap them around my waist. I know now that I’ll never go home again.
Not really. No matter what happens. Because home won’t be the same.
I’ll see Broderic’s resentment. Remember Kieren’s confession.
And they will both look at me as the one who abandoned them.
I can’t bring myself to move from the spot. Even when the carriage shakes as horses are hitched to it. Even when Bishop confers with someone in a low voice.
I’m still sitting in numb silence when he reappears by the coach door. “It’s time to go.”
I look out the other window.
Bishop groans. “Come on. We don’t have much time.”
“I’m not stopping us,” I snap, still refusing to look at him.
“But we’re not taking the coach.” He holds the door open.
This gets my attention. “What?”
“No. Time,” he repeats, like somehow it’s an answer.
I force myself onto my feet. It’s not as though I have a lot of options. “What is the plan exactly? Or do you even know?”
“Your confidence is inspiring.” He doesn’t bother to offer me his hand again as I climb down the steps. “I would have told you, but you were occupied.”
He’s actually annoyed. Like letting me have a few final moments with my old life is a huge sacrifice. Heartless bastard.
The other knight—the one with the scars on the side of his neck and face—grins at me from the coachman’s seat.
“Sorry, it’s my fault,” Taliesin says, winking at me as he lifts a hood over his head.
His dirty-blond hair is short but long enough on top to flop to one side.
“I told some jackass from Calix you and I would be leaving around noon.”
The coach is just another distraction.
Eyeing Bishop, I realize he does have a plan—and he’s not going to share it with me.
Bishop checks the horses’ harness before turning to him. “No one will attack until you’re outside the city limits. Be prepared—”
“To fight?” Taliesin’s smile widens. “I’m looking forward to it.” He snaps the reins and urges the horses forward. He lifts a hand when he reaches the exit. “See you in hell.”
Charming.
Bishop moves to close the carriage house doors.
“Before you ask where we’re going again,” he says, picking up a pack from the ground. He rummages in one of its side pockets before pulling something out. “I should warn you that I’m not used to answering questions.”
Probably because he’s usually giving orders. The kind that no one dares to question.
Maybe I should have gone with his knight.
“Will you really send those troops to Damalis?” I ask.
He looks up from the small object he’s fiddling with in his hands and frowns. “You have my word.”
“And that’s good enough?” I cross my arms.
His face darkens. “Are you questioning the word of a bishop?”
“Maybe I wouldn’t if you gave me some idea what you’re planning.”
This earns another groan. I’m shaping up to be his favorite person.
“I’m taking you somewhere no one will dare to look for you.”
Well, that sounds familiar. “You said that before.” I shrug. “Shouldn’t I just stay in your room here if that’s the big plan?”
“No one would think to look for you there,” he corrects me.
“That’s what I told you. I said no one will dare to look for you where we’re going.
” He stops playing with the gadget and stares me down.
“But if you want to take your chances, so be it. So far, there are only three assassins in the city who have been hired to kill you. Decent odds, if you’re up on your sword work. ”
Point fucking taken.
I sway slightly at the idea that three people in Wintour are out to kill me. How many more want me dead?
“Take your time deciding,” he drawls. “It’s your life, not mine.”
I grit my teeth. “And how are we getting to this untouchable location if the coach already left?”
He lifts his hand and drops what he’s holding. It’s a disc of obsidian engraved with lines that catch the faintest light and split it into hundreds of starbursts. The device hits the ground with a thud and sputters before a shock wave of light streams around it to form a glowing blue pool.
“What is that?” I ask slowly.
“A postern,” he says.
I step away from it, suddenly afraid I’ll accidentally fall through it and land Stars-know-where. It’s not like any postern that I’ve ever seen, but that’s not the problem.
“Velesont controls the posterns,” I say. If I can’t take a ship from a port, a postern has to be even easier for them to track.
“Not this one.” He extends a gloved hand. “This one is special.”
That sounds like code for risky.
“Is it safe?” I ask.
But he laughs at me. “The trick is knowing what’s on the other side.”