A Fugitive's Kiss

by Jaime Clevenger

  “Is it the future you’re worrying about? Or is it the past?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Darin’s looking for you, but there are scouts looking for her as well. For as many men as Darin’s killed, tonight she’ll need you to save her.”

  Darin was a murderer. How many had she killed? Did it matter?

  “Does it matter what she’s done? Or what she’s capable of?” Telvin seemed to be guessing her thoughts. “You still love her.”

  Aysha didn’t answer. Telvin’s gaze seemed to burn through her. Darin had always gotten along without her help, but Ranik needed saving every time… And Telvin had just confirmed her fears about Darin. “I have to help Ranik first, then I’ll find Darin. I’ve seen that she can fend for herself.”

  “There isn’t time for you to save them both. And you can’t step foot in that castle without a swarm of soldiers. I’ll take care of Ranik. Get to Darin before Alekander does.”

  Aysha watched Telvin leave, longing to call out to him. What could she possibly do to help Darin? For as many fights as Darin had survived, how could she help her now?

  She climbed down from the tree, suddenly sure of the answer. She had to keep her from fighting—otherwise tonight’s storm might be her last.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Darin joined a group of soldiers gathered for drinks at the tavern. Illyan had told her enough details about the regiment in Eldering that it wasn’t hard to pretend to be a messenger from there. Waiting for the others to drink enough to loosen their tongues, she parceled out tidbits of news from Eldering when asked but otherwise feigned exhaustion from a long day of travel.

  The soldiers were a disgruntled lot. Since the king’s death, they’d seen longer guarding shifts with little rest, and there was an uncertainty about rations and pay. Many talked of leaving. When she asked, everyone had a different story of what had happened the night of the king’s murder. It was widely suspected that Alekander had murdered the medicine woman and hid her body after he’d killed the king. But some argued the witch had vanished after killing the king herself. No one had any idea where she could have gone—or they would have gone after her, hoping for the reward.

  Darin’s mind wandered from the soldiers’ arguments about the king’s death. She’d searched for Aysha all day without a scent. At midday, she’d gone back to the water trough to meet Ranik. When he didn’t show after hours of waiting, she tracked his scent. It led to Heffen. She’d stopped short at the castle gates. Alekander’s stench was thick there too.

  She finished her drink, ignoring the soldier who squinted at her saying she looked familiar, and slipped outside. Clouds had gathered and lightning darted overhead. She shivered and buttoned her jacket close at her neck. Suddenly she caught Aysha’s scent so strong that she knew she must be close. She searched the dark shadows along the main road and then the alleyways. A whistle pierced the air, and Darin glanced up at the sound. She spotted a figure on a roof several doors down from the tavern. She didn’t need to trust her eyes to know who it was.

  Aysha hopped from the roof down to a fence and then landed softly on the ground a few feet from Darin. Her arms wrapped around Darin, but she pushed away before Darin could kiss her. She pointed to an alley at the side of the tavern.

  “I wish you and Ranik hadn’t come here. If anything happens to you now…But we can’t waste any time talking. Now that I’ve found you, I’ve got to get to Heffen.”

  “We aren’t going anywhere near that place,” Darin argued. “Especially now. Have you forgotten about Alekander?”

  “Of course I haven’t forgotten.” Aysha’s tone was sharp. “But I have no choice. Ranik’s been caught. He’s being held in Heffen. I’ve got to get him out of the castle.”

  Darin had guessed as much from Ranik’s trail. But she couldn’t go after him. “We can’t go to the castle. What happened to you?” Darin asked. “Telvin said he sent you to Eldering to meet us. Why didn’t you come?”

  “There’s no time to explain. You’ll have to hide somewhere—Tobias’s cottage. You can’t go with me to the castle and you have to promise you won’t fight anyone tonight. I’ll come for you as soon as I’ve gotten Ranik.”

  “Alekander will kill you on sight—if his guards don’t first. There’s no way I’ll let you go to Heffen alone…” She stopped. “I’ve missed you. I worried every day that something awful had happened. Why didn’t you come to Eldering?”

  “I thought I was needed here…Stupidly, I’d thought that some good could come out of the king’s death if I stayed—that Tiersten might have a chance at choosing a new king if we could only get rid of Alekander.” Aysha met Darin’s eyes. “If I’d known that Ranik’s life—or yours—would be at risk with me staying, I would have gone…

  “Telvin sent me to get you because of the storm. He said he’d take care of Ranik. But what if he doesn’t? I can’t stand by waiting any longer.”

  “Aysha, if Alekander hears you step foot in that castle…You’ll walk into your own murder. We have to wait for Telvin to make a deal with Alekander. It might be that he trades his own future for Ranik’s, but he won’t let your brother hang.”

  Darin glanced at the main road, catching the scent of soldiers. She pulled Aysha into the shadows and continued in a low whisper, “We’ll both wait with Tobias. His house isn’t far from here but we have to watch for the soldiers. If they see you…”

  “These soldiers…Why don’t they care that King Bairndt was murdered? Was he only one more dead body for them to bury? Alekander should be charged with his murder but the king’s closest guards stand by while he takes command. They could refuse to serve him,” Aysha argued. “They could demand a new king. But they say nothing. Instead they go after the townsfolk who break curfew.”

  “These soldiers aren’t in a position to demand anything more than a good meal. They’re tired and hungry. They won’t demand a new king. Most of them have no home here, no families waiting for them—they’re fugitives from the North. And Alekander knows how to make them content—a little blood on their swords and a full belly. He’ll give them what they want because he wants the same thing. Many Tiersteners will die, but there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”

  “Wait, you’re defending them?” Aysha stepped back. “Sometimes I look at you in that uniform, with that sword and I wonder—are you that different from the others? Blood on your sword and a full belly…”

  Aysha’s words landed like a kick to Darin’s gut. She wanted to argue that she was nothing like the others.

  Aysha continued, “How many have you killed? No, don’t tell me…What I wonder more is, do you even regret it?”

  Darin thought of the nightmares. And the nameless faces that haunted her waking hours. Aysha wouldn’t understand that she’d made a bargain with death. Even if she’d regretted hunting some of the targets she’d been set on, not once had she refused her duties. Could she argue that the men she’d killed were awful people who hadn’t deserved to live? Would Aysha believe that she had no choice but to do as she was told? When she met Aysha’s eyes, the look was cold and distant. She felt the air slip out of her chest.

  “I don’t know how I can love you,” Aysha said. Her voice was soft and painfully kind. “How can you act as if you’ve done nothing wrong? As if it was nothing to take someone’s life?”

  Darin forced herself to speak. “My conscience gives me no rest. I hate what I’ve done, but I had no choice. It’s who I am…”

  “It isn’t,” Aysha argued. “It can’t be.”

  A thunder of hooves announced a half dozen soldiers riding down from Heffen. Darin waited until the riders had passed and then caught Aysha’s arm. “It isn’t safe for you out here—or in Tobias’s cottage. It’s too close to Heffen. I’ll take you to the stables where I left Onyx. We’ll leave Tiersten at first light.”

  Aysha pulled her arm free. “And how safe am I with someone who’s paid to kill?”

  Darin couldn’t answer. Aysha’s
scent stopped her cold. Anger and fear swirled around her, but it was the pungent clove she didn’t believe at first. Aysha hated her. Did she hate what she’d done? Or who she was? Could she separate the two?

  “Just promise me you won’t raise your sword tonight.” Aysha continued, “I’m not leaving it up to Telvin to save Ranik. I’m going to Heffen. Alone.” She stepped away from Darin. “Meet me at Tobias’s cottage after the storm’s passed. I’ll have Ranik with me.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Ranik expected to be brought face to face with General Alekander as soon as he arrived at the castle. Instead, he was alone in a room with four stone walls and a cold stone floor. The soldiers who’d caught him had bound his hands behind his back and dragged him down a long corridor lined with soldiers. They’d shoved him into the room and then loosened the binds on his hands in time for another soldier to land a punch at the low of his back. Ranik crumpled onto his knees with a wave of nausea. A fist cuffed his temple and then someone hollered in the corridor. Before Ranik realized his luck, the door slammed shut, a metal lock screeched into place and the soldiers had gone.

  He spent the next several hours pacing the small space. Every few minutes, he bent his head to the door. He guessed a soldier would burst in any moment, but there was only the tromp of boots and then an eerie quiet. Dusk came and Ranik watched the sky slowly darken. One barred window, too high to reach, let in shadowy moonlight. Wind whistled through the cracks in the walls and he huddled in a corner of the room, trying to keep warm. He drowsed off and was wakened by the screech of the metal lock. He stood up, heart pounding, waiting for the door to open.

  Minutes ticked by with nothing happening, and Ranik finally reached for the handle. Inching the door open, he eyed the corridor. The space was deserted. The soldiers that had lined the walls were gone. He started in the direction he’d been led in but then heard voices and slunk against the wall. At the sound of boots, he spun and ran the opposite way.

  The corridor came to an end, and through an open doorway, Ranik saw a large, crowded dining hall. Catching his breath, he hid behind the door. Peering through the narrow space between the door and its jamb, he saw a long table crowded with soldiers. Pitchers of ale were being passed round. He instantly recognized the man seated at the head—General Alekander. The Northern trader was every bit as frightening as Ranik had remembered from that day on the pier so many months ago.

  General Alekander held up his hand and the room quieted. He tipped his head toward the corridor where Ranik hid, but then, a moment later, dropped his hand, and the noisy banter in the room resumed. His gaze remained trained on the corridor, however.

  Holding his breath, Ranik counted the seconds until the general finally glanced away. But Ranik couldn’t look away from him. The side of his head where his ear should be was crimson and gnarled. A servant came up to the table with bread rolls and General Alekander helped himself. He split open a roll and reached for the butter, but his hand stalled.

  He stood suddenly, dropping the roll and the butter knife and then knocking over his chair. He started toward the doorway, his hand on the hilt of his sword. At the same moment, Ranik was pushed to the ground and a boot landed in his belly, shoving him between the wall and the door. Soldiers stormed past him, bursting into the dining hall with loud shouts. Crouched in the narrow space, one hand pressed against the sharp pain at his ribs, Ranik watched as boot after boot passed his spot.

  He dared a glance at the dining hall. The space was filled with nearly four times the number of soldiers it had held before, and two men had seized General Alekander. The other men who’d been seated at the long table were now doubled over with sword tips pressed against their backs. Ranik froze when he recognized Telvin’s face in the crowd. He realized an instant later that it had been Telvin who’d pushed him to the ground and kicked him out of sight.

  Telvin strode up to Alekander. Another man, at least as large as Alekander and clearly a Northerner as well, was at Telvin’s side. His sword was drawn.

  Telvin motioned to the man at his side. “General Fellings and I have come to address a rumor. An allegation has been made…” Telvin stopped and scanned the men pinned to the table. “Two of you were in the room the night King Bairndt was murdered. I won’t ask you to step forward yet.”

  “It was a witch that murdered the king,” one of the soldiers said. His face was quickly smashed into the table; he choked and spat for a minute before quieting again.

  Telvin’s lips turned up in a sneer. “Is that true, Alekander? Because I’ve heard otherwise. You see, the allegation I’ve heard is that you were the one who stabbed Bairndt. We have two witnesses, your own men, who came to Fellings to report the crime.”

  Alekander didn’t speak. He stared at Telvin and at Fellings, then strained against the men holding him. The men holding him in place were easily as large as he was and didn’t budge.

  “As you know, General,” Telvin continued, “I can find the truth in every lie. Will you speak on your behalf?”

  “Bairndt was alive when I left the room. The witch was alone with him,” Alekander said.

  “But you called for the witch after you stabbed him, didn’t you?”

  All in the room seemed to hold their breath. Finally General Fellings spoke up, “We have witnesses, Alekander—in this room.”

  Alekander spun abruptly on his heel and the two holders seemed to let go. A deafening clatter filled the hall at once as the table overturned, mugs shattered, and swords clashed. Soldiers charged at each other from every angle and Ranik couldn’t keep track of the faces he knew. He only knew that Telvin was somewhere in the mess.

  As Ranik scanned the melee, he spotted Alekander making a sudden lunge for the doorway. On reflex, Ranik slammed his foot against the door; Alekander collided with the wood, stumbled two steps, caught his balance and then stopped cold.

  Darin stood in the corridor, her sword raised. Ranik wished she’d plunge the blade into Alekander, but she seemed frozen in place.

  Alekander’s face contorted in an awful smile. “I heard you coming,” he said. He thrust his sword into Darin’s chest.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The tunnel was cold and dank. And familiar. With the extra candles she was carrying, the going wasn’t as impossibly slow as it had been the first time she’d made the trek, and yet with every minute that passed Aysha worried she’d arrive too late to save Ranik.

  Darin had accompanied her only as far as the storage shed behind the tavern. She hardly looked at her after they’d opened the trapdoor together and when Aysha slipped down into the narrow tunnel, the distance between them seemed insurmountable. They hadn’t kissed—had barely touched—and Aysha’s heart ached now, remembering how she’d pushed Darin away. But in the soldier’s uniform and with too many secrets between them, Darin wasn’t the same woman she’d slept next to in Maylek.

  Aysha had ignored all of Darin’s pleas to reconsider going to Heffen. She didn’t believe, as Darin did, that Telvin would save Ranik alone. But there was more. She could tell Darin was keeping something from her. In Maylek, she’d trusted her completely. She’d believed that nothing could come between them as they’d laid wrapped in each other’s arms. The thought of the seaside village made her eyes blur with tears. She wished again that they’d never left it.

  If only she’d lost the locket…or forgotten her mother’s stories. They would have passed through Tiersten and kept walking. Maybe they would have gone to Caratia or Eldering or even Maylek, but they wouldn’t be tied up in Tiersten’s fate.

  Then again, maybe she was meant to be scurrying like a rat in the dank tunnel under the city. After all, Ranik somehow had blundered his way into this mess as well. She could only hope to reach him in time—and then manage an escape.

  The last of her candles had nearly burned out by the time she reached the end of the tunnel. She set the remains of wax and wick on the dirt floor as she rummaged for the key sewn in the seam of her undershirt. One las
t flicker and the flame was gone. Aysha set the key in the lock and turned the handle. Her heart thumped as she realized that she had no idea what she’d find on the other side of the door. Enough time had passed that the king’s bloodied sheets would have been cleaned, but she hoped that a murder and rumors of a witch might have kept a new resident from moving in. With a shove, she opened the door and then waited for any sound. A moment later, she pushed away the rug and stared into the darkness. The bed was empty and the sheets indeed stripped. Aysha climbed through the trapdoor.

  Before she’d taken another step, the bedroom door burst open, and Telvin stood in the doorway, his hands and sword covered in blood.

  “I thought you’d be here,” he said, sounding strangely pleased. “As it turns out, sometimes I can, in fact, foresee the future. But the only thing I knew about tonight was that I’d find you in this room. Darin’s been stabbed.”

  Aysha stared at Telvin, immobilized by his words and the sight of the blood dripping onto the floor. “But she didn’t come here—she stayed at the tavern to wait for me. She couldn’t—”

  “You need to come quickly.” He turned. “Follow me.”

  In the corridor, a group of soldiers waited, many with blood on their swords. Telvin shouted orders, and they split in two groups, hurrying in opposite directions. He headed down the corridor to the dining hall, not waiting to see if Aysha followed. When they reached the dining hall, Aysha saw Ranik first. He had blood on his chest and his face was badly bruised. “Ranik, you’ve been cut—”

  “No, it’s not my blood.” He met Aysha’s eyes and then looked quickly down at the soldier near his feet.