The Edge of the Blade

by Jeffe Kennedy

  “A mere scratch.” I gave him a cheeky grin and hopped off the table.

  “So tough.” He handed me a bag holding my knives, including my mother’s. Danu love the man. “Hurry.”

  “What’s going on here, Kral?” I asked as I quickly strapped them all on, something I could do with lightning speed, even with a woozy head.

  “I know you’re usually the one playing hero, but even you should recognize a rescue when you see it. Put this on.” He handed me a servant’s cloak.

  Good idea, one I should have thought of. I pulled the cowl deep over my face. “Kral—”

  “We can converse later. Move.”

  An uncanny echo of my earlier, and disastrous, rescue of Karyn.

  “What about Karyn? We have to—”

  “Hush. Move.”

  I moved, following him out the door he’d come through, saving any more questions. Hopefully he had a plan, because I was fresh out. I followed him through the halls, keeping back a servant’s respectful distance, face down, eyes up only enough to see his boots, flashing with their ebony shine.

  Since terror seemed to be working for me, I didn’t fight it. Just let the high song of fear run through me, my blood hot with it.

  No matter what, I resolved, they would not take me alive again.

  Kral greeted some guards, gave orders, and we were outside, the winter night bracingly frosty. Snowflakes whirled around Kral’s boots, stirred by his forceful movement. We passed the stables, went to the wall.

  “Can you climb down?” he asked.

  Looked like I’d end up in the lake after all. “Yes.” I ditched the cloak and swung a leg over the balustrade.

  “Not right there.” Kral pointed. “The boat is over here.”

  A boat. I could have wept with relief. “I take back everything I ever said about you being an idiot. Thank you for this. And good-bye. I, ah—”

  “Save it,” he cut me off. “I’m going with you.” He chucked my servant’s cloak into the water and swung his own leg over the balustrade.

  I climbed down as fast as I could and still find decent toeholds in the darkness. Kral went faster, and I marked the distance to the water by the sound of his boots hitting wood, the rustle of water as the boat shimmied, the murmur of a woman’s voice.

  “You’re there. Let go, I’ve got you.” His hand closed around my ankle in a reassuring grip. Beyond grateful, I dropped into his arms, never more appreciative of his steady strength than in that moment. He lowered me to a bench, handed me a cowled black cloak—dry, thank Danu—and put one on himself.

  Karyn peered at me from the depths of hers, her face pale with fear in the glow of torches from the walls, but a wry smile on her lips. “Kral’s plan is much better than yours.”

  “I’m not going to argue that.”

  “Jepp got you out of the cell; I only kept you out of it,” Kral grunted, rowing.

  “Is there another set of oars?” I asked, feeling around.

  “You can’t swim, but you can row?”

  “How hard can it be?”

  Kral laughed, a soundless huff. “You’d be surprised. Let me do it. You rest. And be quiet. Sound travels over water.”

  I resigned myself to it, feeling useless, but too glad to be away from that place to find fault. If we were spotted, I could drown myself. The icy water should make it relatively painless. A cold hand touched mine, and Karyn squeezed. “Thank you,” she murmured, leaning her head to me.

  I had too many things to say back to her, too many questions, so I simply squeezed back and held on.

  It took only a few minutes to cross the lake, but it felt like hours. I kept my gaze on the palace, watching for any sign they’d spotted us. No way I could get a knife in one from this distance, but they could easily skewer us with their arrows. The little rowboat glided from the deep shadows into paler ones between two of the lakeshore outposts, glowing rings of light around them. I reversed myself on the bench, keeping hold of Karyn’s hand, to observe those guards. They faced away, watching the snowfield. Ever wary of attackers from outside, not fleeing prisoners from within. Lucky for us.

  “Are you going for brazening it out or sneaking through?” I asked Kral as quietly as I could.

  “Sneaking, then brazening if caught.” He gave me a fierce grin, all shark.

  “Kral. You can drop us on shore and go back. If you’re—”

  “Shut up, Jepp. How’s my alignment?”

  I held up a hand to show him to guide the boat more to my right, and he followed, keeping his eyes on me, slowing the oars to make their motion nearly silent, using them mostly to change our direction, letting us glide to shore. Odd how much we’d come to trust each other. Something I could never have predicted—that I’d need rescuing and that he’d be the one to do it. I only hoped he had a plan for getting back into the Imperial Palace and covering his actions. Perhaps Hestar would not suspect his brother of rescuing me and Karyn, but Hulda would, I felt sure.

  We neared the shore and I flattened my palm to indicate slowing, Kral understanding as if we’d worked on this signal system for years. The boat scraped ice bordering the lake edge, a sound that ricocheted in my sensitive ears. My eyes flew from one guard outpost to the other, a knife in my hand, though I doubted I could throw that distance. Karyn let go of my hand and lifted a bow, nocking an arrow, to my vast surprise.

  “Country girl,” she murmured. We all waited a moment longer, but the night remained quiet.

  “No splashing,” Kral warned us, quietly and unnecessarily. I wouldn’t hold it against him, though. My nerves were screaming with the tension, too.

  Moving with surprising stealth for such a big man, still wearing his fancy dress uniform under the shrouding cloak, he eased himself into the water, going in thigh deep, clenching his jaw at the iciness. He held out arms to Karyn and she crept to him, rocking the boat ever so slightly, holding her bow against her. He lifted her into his arms and waded onto shore slowly, ice cracking beneath his boots nevertheless.

  Every second, every sound, ticked us closer to discovery, so I braced myself and imitated Kral’s technique, shimmying myself into the water. Not unlike crawling over the balcony railing as I’d done hours and forever ago. The Imperial Palace shone brightly, like a jewel reflected in the waters, impressively beautiful lit up at night, showing no sign of the ugliness within.

  The freezing water took my breath, the shock of it more than I’d expected, especially as it soaked through at my waist and belly. But I made myself move slowly, joining Kral and Karyn where they crouched on the shore.

  “I was coming back to get you,” Kral muttered.

  “Now you don’t have to.” I’d do everything I could to make sure he didn’t have to rescue me anymore.

  The snowy expanse stretched before us, more lit than not by the bordering guard posts on each side. “Skulk, then run if they send up an alarm?” I asked.

  “They’ll shoot first. You’ll have an arrow in your back before you can dodge.”

  “Then we run, zigzags, all at once but not together. Like birds scattering in a flock. Confuses the predators.”

  “This time we are the fish-birds,” Kral said, and we shared a moment over that reminiscence.

  “Meet you in the forest.”

  Kral grinned at me. “Bet you I make it first.”

  “You’re already down one bet with me,” I retorted. “Sure you want to lose again?”

  “You two were made for each other,” Karyn muttered. “Can we run already?”

  “Yes.” Kral put a hand behind her head and kissed her on the forehead. Then did the same with me, only lavishing the kiss on my mouth. “Good luck, ladies. Go.”

  I ran. Faster than I’d ever run in my life.

  It’s counterintuitive, zigzagging rather than running flat out. Every instinct screams that you’re exposing yourself, your back itching like the target it is. You have to force yourself sideways, from this pool of shadow to the next, pace slowed by the crunching
snow collapsing with the unwary step. As Kral predicted, before I heard any shouts, an arrow thunked into the snow next me, just as I’d darted to the side. Then the alarms rang out, passed from tower to tower. Arrows came at me from the ring I approached now, but I kept my eyes focused on the dim corridor between them.

  I drew my mother’s blade, though, just in case an arrow brought me down but didn’t kill me.

  Ahead, two men each ran from the guard towers flanking my escape route, leaving an archer on both to shoot at me. I poured on the speed. Please don’t let me break an ankle. Karyn was doing the same in bare feet, and I was sure, country girl or no, she wasn’t in nearly the athletic condition I was. Kral was slower and made a bigger target. I refused to be the one not to make it through.

  One of the guards running toward me followed my dart, lining himself up nicely in my range, getting a knife in the throat. More had to be running up behind me, but I couldn’t afford to look. Eyes on the prize, head in the fight. Get to the forest.

  An arrow tore through my cloak, much too close. At least the fluttering silhouette had confused the archer’s aim. I took down another guard, then a third. The last one, smarter than the others, stopped trying to intercept me and instead took a stance between me and the forest, dead center between the guard posts. If I went around him, I’d veer closer to the archers. With his armor, visor down, broadsword ready, he’d get me before I could get a knife into him.

  We were all dead. How could any of us pass this gauntlet?

  At least I’d die on my feet, blade in hand.

  I ran straight for the guard, counting on his proximity to at least dissuade the archers. Thank Danu the rain of arrows did indeed stop. The man swung his sword in an arc, readying himself for me.

  Then lowered it. Saluted, and stepped aside.

  What in Danu?

  But I took the break, dodging around him out of caution, skidding across the ice-covered stone road, plunging into the dark embrace of the forest.

  26

  I kept going, as fast as I could while making no noise. The night had gone as eerily silent as Hestar’s court. No more shouts, no crashing of guards through the trees. Nothing.

  Too easy.

  We should have set a meeting place more specific than “the forest,” but I supposed there hadn’t been time. One day, as my chances of surviving this seemed to be growing, I would once again operate on a solid plan of action. That would be sweet, indeed.

  Without that luxury, I angled toward Kral’s and Karyn’s trajectories, as I’d last seen them. If I didn’t intersect with them, I’d wait for first light—which should actually be not much longer according to my time sense—and then I’d track them. Never mind that potentially thousands of imperial guards would be tracking all of us. At least we were out, against all odds.

  And I was in my element.

  It centered me again, to be in the forest. Even an unfamiliar one. Many of the trees were the same, and the underbrush. How did that happen, that the same kinds of plants grew on different sides of an ocean? I’d bet Dafne would know.

  Once I reached where Kral should have come through, if he’d traveled in a straight line, though of course he wouldn’t have, I began circling back. He’d been to my right and Karyn beyond him. If either had been wounded but had made it to the cover of the woods, they’d likely have hunkered down somewhere. For myself, I was happy enough to keep moving, as my soaked silk and leather pants would no doubt freeze the moment I stopped.

  I crept through the forest, so silently I very nearly stepped on a doe curled in the bracken for the night. She bolted, sending my heart crashing through my ribs. I listened to her passage, ears attuned for any shouts or sounds of men going in that direction.

  Nothing.

  I began to worry as I slipped through the trees again. Which isn’t in my nature, so I wasn’t very good at it. If Karyn had been recaptured, did I owe it to her to go back and try for another rescue? Probably, but I might not possess enough courage. Now, if something had happened to Kral . . .

  I’d skin that deer once I brought it down.

  Why in Danu’s clear eyes hadn’t he gone back when he could? He’d be missed by now, guards certainly would have recognized him, and he’d be branded a traitor. Even if he managed to bring down Hestar, the Domstyrr would never ratify him as Emperor. Or deify him or whatever. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. The only thing in my life that means anything to me.

  Maybe he had a plan. He’d better have one.

  A grunting sound came from ahead, just to the right, strumming my nerves to high alert. Human. But who?

  Taking my time, I circled wide to the left, making sure plenty of forest remained open for escape. If I had to run, it would not be in any direction that would lead me back to the palace. Keeping a low profile, I crept closer to where the sound had been. There, a bit of movement in the brush, shadows upon shadows. Too dark to see much.

  A whisper of steel.

  My heart hammered energy through my system. Blade in hand, I readied myself. If it wasn’t Kral or Karyn, this person would die quickly. I edged in. Peeked through.

  Thank Danu.

  “Kral,” I called softly, my voice rough with the crashing relief. His head jerked around, and he whirled, short sword in hand.

  “Thank Danu,” he breathed, echoing me, then sheathed his sword and, in two strides, seized me. His mouth came down hard on mine and I drank him in, crawling up to wrap my legs around his waist.

  We were alive. We were together.

  Nothing else mattered in that moment.

  Except maybe Karyn’s polite cough.

  Chagrined, I unwound myself from him, noting the pained expression that crossed his face, if fleetingly. The sky had begun to lighten. In the distance, a bird called, a lonely, haunting sound.

  “Are you hurt?” I asked him.

  “A mere scratch,” he answered, with a warm smile, his special one. “I’ll be fine.”

  “He has an arrow in his back,” Karyn said. “I managed to break it off, but he won’t let me pull it out.”

  “No, that’s right. Better not to. Let me see.”

  “Even your cat’s eyes can’t see in the dark,” Kral grumbled, but he turned his back to me, bracing his forearms against a tree and leaning his head on them.

  “Want to bet?” I retorted. “Besides, it’s not even night anymore.”

  The arrow shaft stood out from his shoulder, solidly set into the meaty part of it, broken off about my forearm’s length out. “I can cut it off closer to the skin, so it won’t catch on anything. It’ll mean that we’ll have to cut it out when we get to safety. Can you get away with not using that arm if we leave the arrowhead in there?”

  “Do it,” Kral grunted. “Once we get to the Hákyrling, Trond can deal with it.”

  “We’re going to the Hákyrling? Brace yourself—this will hurt.” I put the edge of my sharpest blade against the wood of the shaft, holding it still with the other as I circled it, cutting a continuing groove. It would take time, but we’d get there. “Isn’t that the first place they’d look for you?”

  “Do you have a better suggestion for getting out of the empire? If we’re caught, we’re dead.”

  “Worse than dead,” I agreed glumly, and Kral reached a hand back to pat me on the hip.

  “It didn’t happen,” he said. “That’s the important part. You’re away from it. We got you out.”

  “Why did you?” I asked quietly. Karyn moved away, giving us privacy, crunching too loudly in a pair of guard boots whose previous owner must be dead. Better than losing toes to frostbite.

  “I promised.” He sounded bleak.

  “I only asked you to get me out, not to throw everything away by coming with me. I just hope you have a plan for how you’ll go back.”

  “No.” He laughed, not exactly bitter, but hollow. “There’s no going back. But I made other promises, to you, to Harlan, to Jenna, both implicit and explicit. I decided to start keeping some of
them.”

  “I don’t get it. Being Emperor was all you ever wanted.”

  “I thought so. But being away so long, seeing Harlan again, seeing him happy, seeing my home, my mother, through your eyes . . . None of it looked the same anymore. You once told me that some things are worth more than all the wealth in the world, worth more than power.” He took a long breath, let it out again. “I realized you were right. I want more.”

  The one time the man listens to me. “You could have gone for a less drastic choice,” I told him. “You didn’t have to throw away your entire life.”

  “You said you loved me. You called me the great passion of your life. Were you lying?”

  Just great. One day I would learn to mind my tongue. “No. I also said that we had no future together, if you’ll recall.”

  “No future together in Dasnaria,” he corrected.

  The blade cut through the arrow, the shaft coming off in my hand. I stared at it stupidly. “What are you saying, Kral?”

  He turned, backed me against a tree. “When you asked your questions, I told you that the promise of becoming Emperor had been the only thing that has kept me going day after desolate day. I realized this wasn’t true anymore. Even when I was angriest, the most frustrated with you, I looked forward to seeing you, arguing with you, touching you. You’re mine. You’re also the only person in the world, in my entire life, who’s said they loved me. I’m not letting go of that. You’re mine, and I plan to be yours.”

  “Where? How? We’re impossible together and you have some fantasy that we’ll settle down in some little cottage and raise babies? We’d both go insane from boredom inside a year.”

  “We’ll figure something out.” He kissed me. “Stop arguing. You know I’m more stubborn than you are.”

  “What about Karyn?”

  “Annulled by the Emperor,” she reminded me from the log she’d chosen. Not all that much privacy. “You can have him. You two are like something out of a Dasnarian ballad, star-crossed lovers, epic drama. At the end you’ll either die in each other’s arms or kill each other. I suppose both could happen,” she added.

  “With that decided,” Kral said, releasing me, “we should go. There should be horses waiting for us not far from here.”