Chapter 41
SELFISHNESS
KAL WHISPERED THROUGH STILLWATER WOOD. The tranquil night and its gentle sounds—buzzing insects, a sighing breeze ruffling feather-like ferns, and the low rustle of tiny feet scurrying through the underbrush—were at odds with the tumultuousness of Kal’s thoughts.
He didn’t know what exactly he’d expected of Saul, but more was an apt description.
He wanted answers. A way through the shitstorm they found themselves in.
Assurances. Instead, Saul warned him of a growing mutiny within the Conclave and a target on his back.
On Kitty’s, too. Lucien held the bow, and apparently Rask had threaded the arrow.
Kal parted a dense wall of green. A familiar silhouette reposed in the shadow of his cabin’s porch. Somewhere in the dark, Sig snorted, sensing his approach.
“How’d it go?” Adder asked by way of greeting.
His fingers were stained with the water-repellent salve he’d been rubbing into his leather armor.
The sight of Kal’s family crest—a Sea Lion, with its strong lion’s maw and foreclaws, scaled serpentine body, and sea dragon’s webbed tail—embossed in the tawny chest plate sent a pang through him.
His grandfather had gifted Adder that armor.
Never again would Kal find such loyalty in a friend.
If Adder had been permitted to join his family in traveling to Asteros, Kal might have lost him, too.
“Not as well as I’d hoped,” Kal replied, dropping onto a step. His body ached from all the tension he’d been carrying. He hadn’t found a moment’s reprieve since his rescue attempt in the capital, nor did any seem to be forthcoming.
Adder wiped a rag over the leather in his hands, buffing the ridges of cresting waves. He stayed silent, waiting for Kal to continue.
“I should take her away from here,” Kal mused, voicing aloud a thought that he’d had on more than one occasion since learning Kitty’s true name.
“And go where, mate?”
Kal scratched at his scalp and blew out a breath.
“I don’t know. The Rhize Mountains? The jungle?
One of the many nameless villages scattered along the western coast?
” Anywhere absent from murderous tyrant monarchs, religious conflict, and scheming rebellions.
Did such a place still exist within Ilistaar?
“Home?” Adder ventured.
Home? Home. Brightsea. The very thought of the eastern coastline with its white beaches of silk sand, towering pale cliffs shrouded in morning mists, and the smell of brine and seaweed rolling off indigo waves pierced Kal’s heart with a fierce longing.
He rubbed a calloused hand over his chest. He hadn’t been back to Brightsea since before Asteros.
Since the worst night of his life. The notion of returning to the glistening cliffside castle with its spiring towers, sea-spattered stone walls, and noble ramparts without the mother and father who’d made it a home felt like digging at a poorly-healed, near-fatal wound.
“No.”
Silence stretched between them. Kal could feel Adder’s disappointment.
He’d been urging Kal to return to Brightsea for years, to seize his birthright and take his place as Lord of Brightsea, prodigy of the last Bladesinger of Ilistaar and her Infallible Aegis.
How did Kal explain that he couldn’t be those things any longer?
The potential had existed within him once, had been the only future he’d once seen for himself, but that boy died the night his parents were murdered and his uncle was taken.
Now he was a man raised by retribution, succored on heartache.
The one extraordinarily unexpected slice of redemption Kal had found was Kitty. Somehow, with her, he felt a little less like a hateful beast seeking vengeance. How terribly unfair that was.
“I don’t know if you’re aware, mate,” Adder said gently, “but neither of you is fortunate enough to claim insignificance. If you disappear, people will notice. And Kitty? Well, they’ve noticed already, haven’t they?”
“What are you saying?”
Adder’s silver eyes gleamed in the night. “I’m saying you don’t have the luxury of running away from this, Kal. You’re too important. She is too important.”
“I know that,” he said, stung. Though he couldn’t deny it was a tempting fantasy. One he hadn’t entirely written off.
“Do you?” Adder challenged. “Because she does.” He jerked his head over his shoulder, toward the cabin’s interior.
“Let me guess,” Kal ventured, voice careful. “The two of you have been plotting while I’ve been away?”
“Not plotting, mate,” Adder replied. “Just talking.”
Kal’s insides spiked with irrational possessiveness, and his second form writhed beneath his skin.
“Calm yourself,” Adder warned, sensing the minute shift in Kal’s countenance.
“You really think I’m dumb enough to cross that line?
” He leaned forward, bracing his forearms over his knees.
“She’s brave, Kal. Good. Kind. And terribly besotted with you.
” Kal’s heart squeezed, his scowl fading.
“But underneath all that? She’s loyal. To a fault.
She’s got a duty to her people, mate. To our people.
If you try to take that from her, you will break her. ”
“So what are you saying? You want me to send her back to Asteros? Give her over to my enemy?” He didn’t have it in him. Maybe if she’d told him sooner. But now? No. Now, he was invested, against his better judgment and intention.
Kal hated the way his friend’s face twisted with sympathy. “This curse is real, Kal. Forget Saul and the Conclave. Forget the Cozened and our war with Domitan. If she fails her part of the prophecy, none of it matters. The shurii will end. The next generation will die childless.”
That was the problem. Kal wasn’t entirely sure he cared.
When he contemplated handing this woman over to his parents’ murderers, wrapped in gossamer and given to his uncle, a man he’d loved and admired…
an inhuman growl reverberated in his chest. Gods forgive him, but he didn’t care about an entire generation of people if it meant losing her.
“I hate that it’s her, Kal,” Adder said. “I hate that it’s him.” Kal’s stomach twisted. Karrick. Adder stood, buckled his chest armor in place, and set a hand on Kal’s shoulder. “But if you love her, you’ve got to think beyond what you want, mate. There’s no room for selfishness in love.”
With that, Adder left Kal sitting alone on the porch steps, with thoughts darker than the forest shadows and a heart conflicted as the tangled boughs above him.
Kal found Kitty curled on his couch, a blanket tucked beneath her chin. The dark line of her lashes rested along the curve of her cheek, and her lips were slightly parted in sleep. A book had been left open on the cushion next to her. Kal marked the page and moved it to the table.
She looked so peaceful. It was almost easy to forget their troubles, sitting here, listening to the sounds of her rhythmic breathing. The scent of his soap clung to her hair, and damn him, but he wanted to keep her. The thought of her staying here, in his home, did something strange to his chest.
Kal reached out and trailed a finger along the curling strands at her temple. Kitty sighed, but otherwise didn’t stir. He dropped his hand.
What the hell was wrong with him? Kal sat near her feet and rested his head back against a cushion.
She was right here, and yet she may as well have been a league away.
She should be a league away. He’d spent so many years fighting for Asteros’s fall.
Building this resistance. He had sacrificed so much and allowed his friends to sacrifice along with him.
And here he was entertaining the fantasy of endangering it all for his own selfish desires.
Adder was right. You’ve got to think beyond what you want.
What was that exactly?
Kal stared at the crossbeam that traveled the length of his ceiling.
He wanted people to be freed from the monarchy’s oppression.
He wanted revenge for his family, to soothe the ache of what he’d lost. He wanted a life for his friends that didn’t involve risk and abuse.
He wanted the freedom to pursue the woman he chose and offer her a chance to choose him in return.
What lay beyond that?
The truth. The horrible, abominable truth.
His people suffering in Asteros’s shadow. The senseless murder of his family; a wound that would never heal. Danger at every turn. And giving the woman he loved to the man who had once been like a brother to him. All in the name of a millennia-old curse.
Kal dragged a hand down his face. He glanced over at Kitty again, watched her shoulder rise and fall with each inhale, envious of her current oblivion.
Was he willing to risk everything for a woman who wasn’t his?
Not just any woman.
Kal ignored the unhelpful voice in his head. No. He wouldn’t disregard his obligations to his friends and allies. Not for Kitty. Not for anyone. But maybe, if Kal cast his net well, he wouldn’t have to choose between them.
There might not be room for selfishness in love. But Adder said nothing about tenacity.
Kal left Kitty sleeping on the couch and made for the basement. He had at least a few hours of stubborn consciousness left in him, a hundred or so unread texts, and plenty of alcohol.