The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy)

by Charity Santiago

  She shoved her feet into the plain brown boots, grimaced as she stared down at them. "I look like an old housewife," she muttered.

  Vargo squirmed around until he could see her, swinging his feet around for balance and propping himself against the rock as he looked her over. "No, you don't," he said. "You look like Ashlyn Li in a dress."

  "Coming from you, I imagine that's an insult. I hate long skirts."

  “You should wear them more often. Looks good on you.”

  She couldn't stop the instinctive warmth that spread within her, but she covered it up quickly, and scoffed. "Good to know I meet Vargo’s standards for hot women. Walking? Check. Talking? Check. Gee, that was hard."

  Vargo's face darkened. "I'm beginning to rethink that talking qualifier," he growled.

  "You know…" she began, and stopped. He wasn't worth it. She picked up his electric baton from the grass. "Go away."

  He rolled his eyes. "Do I even have to dignify that with a response?"

  "Here's the deal," she said, plopping down cross-legged in front of him, only moderately hindered by her skirt. "You're going to be carrying the clothes and stuff. Keep your hands hidden the entire time that we're in town, and don't even think about escaping. I've got your baton."

  "I quiver in fear," he said sarcastically.

  "Well, don't quiver too much. You'll give yourself rope burns." Ashlyn paused. "I wish you'd believe me. We're on the same side here. I'm just trying to keep anyone from getting hurt."

  "Yes, I can see that," he said, raising his hands to massage his sore shoulder pointedly. "Poor little ninja princess, all alone for three years, and now no one will believe that she's trying to save the world. Lockhart might have been fooled by you, but look where that got him.”

  Ashlyn slapped him. Hard.

  "Ow!" he squawked, rubbing his cheek. "What the hell?" An imprint of her hand was already rising on his cheek, cherry-red in the lantern-light.

  "I would never hurt Drake," Ashlyn spat, furious. “That was a complete accident. I tried to stop Kou, but it was too late.”

  “Way too late,” Vargo retorted, glaring at her.

  His words sent an icy shiver of fear through her heart. Ashlyn grabbed the Spartan by the rope around his wrists and hauled him upright, finding a bizarre strength inside her she hadn't known was possible. "He's alive," she hissed, slamming the Spartan up against the rock and pinning his hands against his chest. The electric baton was at his throat. "Tell me Drake is alive." She'd seen the vampire suffer worse wounds than the one he'd sustained; she'd seen him walk away from certain death a dozen times. He was Drake, after all.

  Vargo's face was an unreadable mask. "What do you care?"

  Lightning split the sky. Ashlyn paused.

  She took a deep, calming breath, clutching Vargo’s hands earnestly to her collarbone, the tan of her fingers splayed across the whiteness of his. She let the hand with the baton fall to her side. "Don't play with me, Vargo. That sword would have hit Drake in his heart, but it didn't. I deflected it. A shoulder wound is nothing to him. Nothing." Her voice broke, and she looked down, defeated. "Just tell me," she whispered. "Tell me if he's all right."

  There was a long silence, broken only by the steady hum of Vargo‘s baton.

  Vargo finally sighed. "I don't know if he's all right," he admitted. "When I left, the Cosmea healers were with him. He'd lost a lot of blood."

  Ashlyn drew in a shuddering breath.

  So much was happening so quickly. A week ago Ashlyn had been carefree, traveling on her own merit, without a single responsibility to weigh her down. Now it felt like the entire world was crumbling around her.

  And Drake…

  "I'm sorry," Vargo said suddenly, his hands moving to clasp over hers. "I didn't…I didn't mean what I said. I know you wouldn't intentionally hurt him."

  She looked up at Vargo, at the straight, even features she'd only recently noticed were so balanced, at his wild red hair and playful green eyes, except that right now his eyes were bright with the lantern-light and more serious than she'd ever seen them.

  He swallowed, looking as uncertain as she did. "Ash," he murmured, and she'd never heard her name sound so revered, so…delicate. His bound hands drifted to her face, cradling it within his palms and gazing at her like he'd never seen her before, or maybe like he'd seen her but never really noticed until now.

  Yeah, she knew the feeling.

  But he didn't believe her, Ashlyn reminded herself unsteadily. He thought she was a traitor to FLD.

  "We have to get into town before Kou starts worrying," she muttered, taking a shaky step backwards. "And I have to get to Toryn before anyone else is hurt." She collected up her sneakers and clothes and shoved them into the extra satchel Kou had brought her.

  Vargo watched her, still leaning against the rock. "So what's your plan? Put me in the room and leave me?"

  Ashlyn hesitated as she closed the satchel, glancing at him. "I'm going to request an in-room dinner for tomorrow evening, and they'll find you then. By that time Kou and I should be well on our way."

  He studied her for a long moment. "And I'll just sit there, tied up and gagged, for an entire day."

  "Yup." She switched the baton and the lantern to one hand while she picked up the satchel with the other.

  "Huh." He offered a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. "You don't trust me not to find Skye and tell him where you are?"

  Ha. Right. "That would be a negative."

  "Glad to know you've got so much faith in me. We did save the world together and all."

  "Oh please. The last time I actually talked to you before this week was on the metro tracks in Civitas three years ago. And the closest you got to saving the world was to decide fighting us wasn't worth it."

  He scuffed his toe in the grass. "Guess I forgot we didn't- didn't have much to do with each other the last few times I saw FLD. The tracks in Civitas, huh? Long time ago, wasn't it? We were just kids then."

  "I was fifteen. I'm surprised I can remember being that young."

  "I was eighteen. I remember it pretty clearly." He laughed, and there was bitterness in his voice. "But then, years wasted following orders from a tyrant isn’t exactly something that slips your mind."

  "Poor Vargo." Unsympathetic, she shoved the satchel into his hands. "Move."

  He stumbled out from behind the rock and started walking. "So we're checking into the inn now?" he asked.

  "That's the plan. Why?" She followed him into the city, glancing around warily.

  "Just wondering when we're going to eat."

  "I'll find you something when we get there." Ashlyn nudged him towards the inn.

  "Wait!" Kou suddenly jumped out beside them and dragged them both into the narrow alley between the inn and the saloon. "I was wrong," he said to Ashlyn in Toryn. "FLD is here. I've only just seen them."

  "FLD?" Ashlyn repeated, stunned. "They're here?"

  "Oh goody," Vargo said dryly, obviously recognizing the name of the former rebel group, which was the same in either language. "Just when I'm about to get something to eat, I get rescued."

  "You're not rescued yet," Ashlyn told him in Merchant Tongue. She turned to Kou. "What are we going to do? Are the horses still at the livery?"

  "Yes, and we're going to leave them there. I paid a considerable amount of your credits to keep them out of sight."

  "My credits. Great. So- what? We just wait around here till FLD leaves?"

  "I'm hungry," Vargo announced.

  "Shut up," Ashlyn said.

  "There's a side entrance to the inn. We'll enter there and wait for FLD to turn in. I overheard your friends saying that they have plans to scour the plains come morning."

  "By then you and I will be halfway across the ocean," said Ashlyn.

  "What about me?" Vargo demanded.

  "What- what about you?" Kou said, switching languages awkwardly. "You're of no real use to us. We will leave you here."

  The red-haired man gave a long-suf
fering sigh. "Nice to feel wanted."

  Kou moved to the side, exposing a small red door that Ashlyn hadn't seen before.

  "Go," he said, shoving Vargo towards the doorway. He held out a brass key to Ashlyn. "Left at the corridor. Second door on the right. Stay there until I come for you."

  Ashlyn grabbed Vargo by his collar, making sure he didn't get too far ahead of her, and glared at Kou. "Where will you be?"

  He raised an eyebrow at her, as if to say duh. "I'm going to watch your friends."

  "Oh, dream on. I'm not going to stand by while you hurt them like you hurt Drake-"

  Kou shook his head, exasperated. "No harm will come to them, I promise you. Injuring a member of FLD would be detrimental to our cause."

  "Detrimental? Our cause? Can you please stop talking like a freaking textbook?"

  His dark eyes flashed. "What I mean, Lady Li," he said stiffly, "is that attacking FLD would inform them as to our location. I will merely observe. I won't harm them."

  "I don't think so. That's just a veiled excuse for not attacking until after they see you. I'm sorry, Kou, but I don't trust you."

  Vargo made as if to climb the staircase inside, and Ashlyn pulled him back. He sighed and let her push him up against the open door, obviously impatient for the argument to be over. "Stay there," she told him, and said to Kou, "You stay with Vargo and I'll watch FLD."

  "They'll recognize you," the younger man said, his tone threaded with irritation.

  This time she didn't bother switching to Toryn. "No more than they'll recognize you. You’re a Toryn. Not to mention you were a prisoner on the airship long before I was a fugitive to my friends."

  "Two days really doesn't count as long before, I don't think," Vargo said, still pinned against the door.

  Ashlyn and Kou ignored him, glaring at each other.

  "I'm going," Kou said finally, teeth gritted. "You're staying with the Spartan."

  Ashlyn resisted the urge to roll her eyes; this was going nowhere. "Over my dead body. What makes you think I'm going to stand by idly while you wage war against the few remaining friends I have?"

  He seemed to consider her words, and offered, "I give you my word. I will not harm them."

  "Your word?" she said skeptically.

  "Yes."

  "You won't hurt them."

  "I won't hurt them."

  "Even if they attack you."

  "Even if they attack me."

  "Swear it," she ordered. "On the holy scales."

  His expression was pure frustration. "I swear on the scales of the sovereign deity Drago, I will not harm your friends."

  Ashlyn paused, contemplating. On one hand, she wanted to believe him. They were both sworn to the ninja code and thereby to the religion of the Toryn. Swearing on the scales was like walking the edge of a razorblade. If you slipped, you were as good as dead.

  On the other hand, she would never forgive herself if anything happened to Skye, Restlyn or whoever else might be involved. That seemed like an awfully big risk to take on faith alone.

  But it was the best offer she was going to get. And Ashlyn had some idea that her friends were probably prepared for an attack; if Kou tried, he wouldn't accomplish much.

  "Fine. I'll stay with Vargo. You…" She trailed off, unsure. Ah, heck. "Be careful."

  The younger ninja nodded, looking relieved. "You also, Lady Li. I will return for you when it is time." He turned away, nodded courteously to Vargo as he did so.

  Ashlyn bit her lip as she watched him walk away. "Don't forget about me," she called.

  Kou glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "Not likely, Lady."

  "Not likely my foot," she muttered grumpily, shoving Vargo towards the staircase. "You better come back."

  Vargo kicked out uselessly at the baton as he began climbing the stairs. "Will you stop jabbing me with that thing? I'm moving already. You don't need to punch me full of holes to prove your point."

  "Shut up," she said, without feeling.

  It was a winding staircase, narrow and spiraling up into nothingness. Just when she thought she saw the end up ahead, another window looking out at the dark rooftops would appear, and the lantern-light would fall on a whole new slew of stairs. Ashlyn hadn't even known there was a second floor to the inn at Industry. It sure didn't look like it from the outside. Go figure.

  "Finally," Vargo announced, stomping hard on the last stair before he stepped up onto the polished hardwood of a constricted corridor. He looked up and down the narrow hallway before glancing back at Ashlyn. "Where to, boss lady?"

  "Turn left. Second door on the right." She hated climbing stairs.

  When they finally reached the top, she unlocked the door and let Vargo into the small room that would serve as their home for the night. There were two twin beds lined up against the far wall, a worn bureau shoved between them. There was also a futon next to the door and a window overlooking the entrance to Industry on their left. Other than that, the room was bare.

  "Not much in the way of entertainment," Ashlyn observed.

  Vargo leaned against the wall, and slowly slid down until he was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up, bound hands resting across them. "Please tell me I don't have to spend the entire night alone here with you," he said.

  "I'm leaving before dawn." She chose to ignore the insult in his comment, and looked out the window instead. She gave Vargo a compulsory glance. "Do you know who came here?"

  "Hmm?" He was staring at the ceiling, the lamplight dancing across his strong jawline.

  Ashlyn looked away. "From FLD. I wonder who Skye sent here, to Industry. You were at Eastern City. Aik would still be researching, and I can't see Aaron leaving the airship."

  "Skye and Restlyn were the only ones left on the airship when they left me in Eastern City," he said. "Besides Aaron."

  "So it's them." She took a deep breath. "I'm glad they're together. Maybe…"

  Vargo waited for her to continue. When she didn't, he said, "Maybe what?"

  "I was just thinking…" She plopped down in front of the bed, still clutching the electro-baton. Her skirt poofed out around her, riding up her legs, and she smoothed it down with one hand. "I know Skye cares for her."

  "He'll never tell her that."

  Their eyes met.

  "How do you know that? They were inseparable while we were, you know, saving the world and all. Now they're together again. What is it, if not fate?"

  "Babe, there's plenty of ways to be together and still suffer oceans between you." He broke eye contact, stared at his hands. "I've seen them together. Restlyn might be crazy about Skye, but he’ll never put himself in a position to care about anyone else, ever again."

  "I hope you're wrong."

  "So do I," he said, surprising her.

  It began to rain outside; Ashlyn could hear it pounding on the roof.

  "Do you miss Lord Angelo?" she asked, wanting to change the subject.

  "Hell, no." He fidgeted. "Maybe a little. Remember the speech I gave you back on the airship?"

  "The 'I believe in what I'm fighting for this time, yadda yadda yadda' speech? Oh, yeah."

  "Glad to know it meant so much for me to spill my guts to you," he said, scowling.

  "No, I…" Great. She felt like a jerk now. "It meant a lot. I didn't mean to tease. Yes, I remember your speech."

  "I meant it."

  "Really?"

  "Every word." He worked his fingers underneath the rope, scratching idly at his wrist. "We're doing the right thing now. The only thing I miss about Lord Angelo is the certainty of power."

  "Certainty of power?" Ashlyn repeated. "What do you mean?"

  He frowned, looking like he was trying to think of a way to explain his thoughts. "The DEMON army wasn't going to fall. At the time it felt like a sure thing. Jackson's a good president, he's doing a great job, but there's always a question of whether he'll still be in control tomorrow. Take this war with Toryn, for example."

  "Toryn and Lord Angelo batt
led for years," Ashlyn said. Her mother had died in that war.

  "But Lord Angelo won, and there was never any doubt."

  She thought about it. The Toryn people had prayed, battled, trained and sacrificed for that war. She barely remembered it, had been a small child when her people were defeated and Lord Angelo took over. But she remembered the pride that her kinsmen had displayed over the years, and knew that it had only been lessened a little by the loss to Lord Angelo. Her father had suffered the worst of it, and she suspected that was only because her mother had passed away so unexpectedly.

  When she looked up, Vargo was staring at her. He didn't look away this time. "You have your thinking face on."

  "I prefer 'deliberation face,'" she said.

  "What are you deliberating?"

  You. Me. The world as we know it. "Nothing, really."

  "Right." Sarcasm dripped from his voice like bitter honey.

  "You don't believe me?"

  "I'm tied up and my wrists have rope burns," he said. "Not too inclined to believe much of anything at this point."

  "Ah. So now you're holding that against me. I told you not to move too much."

  "I think it was more the manhandling that did it." He gave her a pointed look, and Ashlyn smiled weakly. She'd been so concerned about Drake, she hadn't stopped to consider what yanking the ropes around might do to Vargo.

  "You goaded me into it," she muttered.

  It was a feeble excuse, but he didn't try to dispute it.

  Ashlyn glanced at him after a minute. "Do you want me to take those off?" she asked, jerking her chin towards his wrists, resting on his knees.

  A slow smile spread across his face, and Ashlyn realized belatedly how many different ways her offer could be taken. "Don't even," she said when he opened his mouth. "If you're going to be gross, then don't even bother."

  His mood changed abruptly, for the second time that day. "Is that how you see me?" Anger curled around his tone like something tangible, like fury needles stabbing each word with a vengeance. "Something gross, something disgusting?"

  "Only when you're…" Ashlyn saw the hope lingering in his expression, and knew she couldn't be cruel. "No. I don't."

  "Good." He toyed with the frayed end of the rope on his left wrist. "If things were different, Ashlyn…"