What Matters Most

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What Matters Most Page 3

by Sasha L. Miller


  Ailynn snorted, cracking a small smile. "As though my son would accept bribery."

  "I didn't," Kyros confirmed. "So they stooped to dirtier measures." Kyros hesitated. He hated this part, but she needed to know. "My rooms were next door to another mage candidate. His name was Mylis. I was friendly with him—we talked sometimes. Most of the other mage candidates didn't associate with me, partly because I'm not from the city and partly because I don't agree with the idea that they're—that we, as mages—are better than anyone else."

  "What happened to your friend?" Ailynn asked quietly.

  "He was murdered," Kyros said, just as quietly. "I … he wasn't involved. I didn't even ask him to sign the petition, but they knew of our friendship. They came up with a witness that claimed to have seen us drinking together earlier in the night, and then another who had witnessed us fighting. They planted the knife in my room, and when it was searched a few hours later, they found it easily."

  "They'll look for you here, you know," Ailynn said, frowning at him. "It isn't safe, even for a visit. Do you have somewhere else—"

  "That wasn't the end of it," Kyros said, cutting her off gently. "I had other friends in the city. They warned me and hid me before I could be arrested. That was three months ago. I stayed, kept trying to find a way to get the council disbanded."

  Ailynn's frown deepened, but she didn't say anything, watching him with concern.

  "I managed to get almost all of the signatures I needed,"

  Kyros said, curling his hands into fists to hide their shaking.

  "Then someone who was in the council's pocket managed to get hold of the list. I'd been keeping it with me at all times, to keep the mages who'd pledged their support safe. Someone on the council's payroll managed to steal it. The council pressured the mages who'd signed, and most of them withdrew their support."

  "Oh, dear," Ailynn murmured, folding her hands together over the half-darned sock in her lap.

  "Then I received more threats, but not against me," Kyros said, remembering vividly the note that had laid out how they would find his family, that each and every relative they found would suffer the same fate as Mylis.

  "You mean me," Ailynn said, raising her eyebrows.

  Kyros nodded, not elaborating on the threat. "There's a small coastal town in the eastern province. I've visited before, and there are some lovely cottages near the beach there that would make a wonderful home—"

  "You want me to leave," Ailynn said, and given the flat tone and the stubborn set to her jaw, Kyros knew he was going to have a devil of a fight to get her to agree.

  "If I didn't think …" Kyros started, then stopped, taking a deep breath. "A carriage is coming to take you there. It's a long trip, but I'd feel better knowing that you're safe—"

  "And what about you?" Ailynn asked sharply, cutting him off. "Are you planning to stay here?"

  "No," Kyros said, shaking his head. "I can't stay anywhere too long. I was planning to go south for a few months, then head back to Alesdor—"

  "You're going back there?" Ailynn demanded, her voice growing louder. "I know I didn't raise an idiot."

  "I can't just give up," Kyros said, then shook his head. "You'll go, though? It… I don't want you to be hurt."

  "I've lived in Ourenville my entire life, Kyros," Ailynn said, shaking her head. "I'm not about to be run off by vague threats.

  What are they going to do, come into town and burn down my house? I've done nothing wrong, so they can't do anything to me."

  "They'll do more than burn your house down," Kyros said bluntly. "They'll drag you off to Alesdor on trumped up charges for one thing or another. They weren't idle threats, mother, and I'm not betting your safety on the council's sense of honor. They don't have any such thing, and I don't want you hurt."

  "I'm too old to start over in a new town, Kyros," Ailynn said, picking up her needle again. She focused her attention back onto the sock in her lap, and Kyros scowled.

  "You're not old," Kyros said, refusing to accept that excuse.

  "The men who will be escorting you should have a house set up and ready for you to move into—"

  "And how do you know they aren't bought out by the council and you're sending me straight into their arms?" Ailynn asked, her needle flashing in the light cast by the fire as she continued to patch the sock.

  "Because they have their own reasons for hating the council," Kyros said, forcing himself to be patient. He was asking a lot, even if he wasn't asking it lightly.

  "What reasons?" Ailynn asked.

  "Jallen is the cousin of the man the council murdered to frame me," Kyros said flatly. "Ambry was driven out of the mage school when he wouldn't back down from badmouthing the council's methods."

  "I see," Ailynn said quietly, biting off the thread as she finished the sock. Setting the needle aside, she inspected her work.

  "Think about it, please," Kyros said, deciding it was better to not push her to agree to leaving immediately. "I'll be able to visit you eventually, but it won't be safe for me to come back here after this visit."

  "I imagine you couldn't write to give me warning for some reason?" Ailynn asked, giving him an exasperated look as he stood up.

  "People don't know I come from Ourenville," Kyros said, running a hand through his hair tiredly. "If I wrote you and the letter was intercepted, they would know immediately, as well as anything I tried to tell you."

  "Of course," Ailynn said. She set aside the sock in her lap and picked up the next one from the pile of laundry next to her.

  "Dinner will be ready an hour before sunset."

  Kyros nodded, hesitating before heading outside. Hopefully she'd agree, even if it was only reluctantly. Kyros stepped outside, then paused, not sure where he thought he was going.

  Glancing around, he frowned, noticing the ladder was no longer propped up against the side of the house. Where had Raslin gone?

  Probably to do whatever it was he did with his afternoons.

  Kyros couldn't claim to have any idea, and he wondered how different his life would be if he'd been smart enough to walk away after Mylis' death. If he'd come back here, would anyone have followed? Would he have been able to settle into life in the village instead of life on the run?

  He wouldn't get the chance to find out, Kyros thought as he started to walk, and there was no point in dwelling on it now.

  He let his feet pick the direction, crossing his arms to ward against the cold air. It was warmer than it had been that morning, but it was still cold enough he wished he'd thought to grab his jacket before he left. He wasn't going to go back in and disturb his mother. She deserved the chance to think it over without him there.

  Kyros abruptly turned off the path and headed towards the row of trees that marked the beginning of the forest. There was a trail in the woods that would lead him directly to the ruins.

  Few people used it, which meant fewer people to force him into small talk. He also doubted anyone would be at the ruins.

  Picking up his pace, Kyros walked briskly through the woods. He should come up with a better back-up plan if Ailynn refused to leave. The only back-up plans he'd been able to come up with on the ride out were to drag her off unwillingly—which wouldn't go over well at all—or to give himself up to the mage council's will. That would mitigate any need for them to go after Ailynn at all, even if it likely meant he'd be put to death.

  The ruins were as deserted as Kyros had anticipated, and he wandered through the rings of stones, studying the carvings.

  They were still indecipherable, and Kyros traced his fingers over the grooves in the cold stone, wondering what meaning they'd had when they were inscribed. Sighing, he turned away and headed towards the gate. He sat down with his back to the thick stones, tucking his legs close in an attempt to stay warm. A chill wind cut through the clearing, and Kyros reluctantly conceded he was either going to have to return for his coat or cast a spell.

  The spell for a fire wouldn't take much energy, and he did
want to give Ailynn some time to think about leaving, so a fire it was.

  Kyros glanced around, but there was no one in sight.

  Murmuring the spell words, Kyros creating a warm, crackling fire. It burst into existence a few feet in front of where he was sitting. Its warmth washed over him, and Kyros watched it critically for a moment before settling back, satisfied the spell was stable.

  Kyros didn't have a license to practice magic; that had been revoked when he'd been accused of murder. The fire was obviously magical, too. There was no wood to feed the flames, and the fire hovered half a foot above the ground. If anyone demanded to see his license, he could be arrested for not having one. Kyros highly doubted it would be an issue, however; there were no guards in Ourenville, and even if there were, they wouldn't know a proper mage license from a fake.

  The crack of a tree branch behind him made Kyros whip his head around, the words to another fire spell—an attack spell— on the tip of his tongue. Kyros shut his mouth with a click of teeth when he caught sight of Raslin approaching. His head was ducked against the wind, and he was wearing a heavy jacket that it took Kyros a moment to place as previously belonging to Raslin's father. He also carried Kyros' coat, which meant he'd been back to Ailynn's house, even if briefly.

  "Here," Raslin said, holding Kyros' coat out as he reached the gate. He glanced briefly at the fire, but didn't say anything despite its obviously magical origins.

  "Thanks," Kyros said, standing up and accepting the coat.

  The fabric was chilly as he tugged the coat on, but it would warm up quickly. Kyros sat back down, the weight of the day finally sinking in as he leaned against the gate. He was tired.

  Tired of running and tired of hiding and tired of running into roadblocks at every turn. He couldn't stop, though; he couldn't turn his back on everything he'd worked so hard for. Who would stand up against the council if he didn't?

  Raslin didn't join him, but he didn't walk away either. Kyros peered up at him, wondering if Raslin was going to demand an explanation, since Kyros had spoken with Ailynn. Raslin didn't say anything, just started to pace, his forehead furrowed in thought. Kyros waited; Raslin would either say what he was thinking or he wouldn't.

  "Your mother is worried about you," Raslin said, continuing to pace. He didn't look at Kyros, scowling at the village as he paced in its direction.

  "I know," Kyros said, shrugging. There was nothing he could do about her worry. He didn't want his mother to underestimate the danger; he wanted her safe.

  "Why the hell are you planning to go back?" Raslin asked.

  His voice was level, but there was no mistaking his anger. His whole body was tense with it as he rounded on Kyros, his eyes daring Kyros to say something stupid.

  "Eavesdropping is rude," Kyros said coldly. Raslin had to have eavesdropped; there was no way Ailynn had had enough time to tell him everything and for Raslin to arrive at the ruins so soon after Kyros.

  "Trying to hide this from me was rude," Raslin retorted, his eyes flashing with emotion. "And don't give me any bullshit about how you were going to tell me later. I'm not stupid."

  "It's more dangerous that you know," Kyros said sharply, scowling up at Raslin. He didn't remember Raslin being so passionate, so easy to anger. "I was trying to keep you out of it."

  "They're going to come here looking for you or Ailynn,"

  Raslin said, not placated by that. "I wouldn't tell them anything, but obviously you don't think I can be trusted."

  "That's not it," Kyros said, startled because he hadn't given the idea that Raslin would betray him a second's thought. "I know you wouldn't say a word, but if you knew anything, if you accidentally let anything slip, then they'd have no qualms dragging you off to the city for a special interrogation."

  "What does that mean?" Raslin asked suspiciously. "A special interrogation?"

  "Torture," Kyros said flatly. "It's safer if you don't know anything."

  "Oh," Raslin said. He was still frowning, but the anger had left his voice and posture. "You still should have told me. I can take care of myself, Kyros."

  "You don't know these people," Kyros said, sighing quietly.

  "I do. They're ruthless, and there's every chance they'll drag you off anyway, simply because you're close to my mother."

  "And you didn't think I should know that?" Raslin asked, back to angry. Kyros sighed, running his hands through his hair and wondering if there was anything he couldn't make a mess of with Raslin.

  "I don't know," Kyros said after a moment, wishing he could make the right choice for once. "Every decision I make seems to blow up in my face. I don't know if it's better you know or if it's worse. I hope it's better."

  Raslin rolled his eyes, and stepped close. Kyros tensed, half expecting Raslin to shake him or hit him, but Raslin just sat down, leaning up against the gate stone next to Kyros. He sat in silence for a moment, and Kyros relaxed, staring at the magical fire. It was oddly comfortable, sitting next to Raslin in the ruins, and Kyros wished for the hundredth time he'd never left Ourenville.

  "What's the cover story for Ailynn leaving?" Raslin asked.

  "My great-aunt is sick and needs help around the house,"

  Kyros said. He didn't have a great-aunt, but he doubted anyone in Ourenville knew otherwise. "So she's heading out to help her for the winter. In Tristowne."

  "That's a long trip," Raslin said. "I won't ask where she's actually going."

  "Thank you," Kyros said quietly. He stared out at the broken stones around them. Hopefully Ailynn would be happy on the coast. He hated that he had to tear her away from everything she'd ever known; Ailynn had lived in Ourenville since she was a girl. He wished he could send Raslin with her, but that would draw a lot of suspicion in the village, and he doubted Raslin would go.

  "Why are you going back to Alesdor?" Raslin asked again, not trying to hide the skepticism from his voice. "You're just going to be killed there."

  "Probably," Kyros said. He didn't answer the question, not sure he could explain. Raslin didn't understand; he hadn't been there to see the corruption in the council, the way the mage candidates and assistants were treated. He hadn't seen the way the mages treated anyone who wasn't a mage or a noble, anyone they considered unimportant.

  "Ow!" Kyros snapped, jerking away from the elbow Raslin drove into his ribs. It had startled more than hurt, with both of their jackets between them, but had been more than sufficient to draw him from his thoughts.

  "Stop being an idiot," Raslin said curtly, scowling at him.

  "Why would you just throw your life away?"

  "You don't understand," Kyros snapped, shuffling away from Raslin.

  "Well, you could explain it to me," Raslin said, rolling his eyes. He was very obviously unimpressed, staring at Kyros like Kyros was a complete idiot.

  Which, all right, that was possibly true, but not because he was going back.

  "If I don't go back, there won't be anyone to stand up to the council," Kyros said slowly, wondering how he could impress the importance of that on Raslin. Kyros had to go back.

  "Really."

  "Really," Kyros snapped, annoyed at the disbelief in Raslin's tone.

  "Then how do you plan to do anything?" Raslin asked. "I mean, if no one is willing to stand up against them, then what's the point? You'll just be going back to die, and that's stupid."

  "I can't give up," Kyros said heatedly. Raslin was being purposefully antagonistic, and Kyros couldn't help but rise to the bait. "If I give up, the council wins and can keep doing whatever they want."

  "Which is?" Raslin prompted, and Kyros wondered if he'd heard the entire conversation that Kyros had had with his mother.

  "Anything they want," Kyros said sharply. His breath puffed out in white clouds as he spoke, and Kyros watched them dissipate before continuing. "They use their power and their magic to get away with everything. They blackmail and murder.

  No one dares to stand against them because they have the power to make people
disappear, to trump up charges against anyone and then drag them off for 'interrogation.'"

  "Why aren't more people standing up against them?" Raslin asked, frowning. "Why are you the only one?"

  "They're used to it. The council has been in power for centuries," Kyros said, shaking his head. "I can't seem to make anyone understand that nothing will change, nothing will get better, until more people stand up against them. One person they can get rid of; a thousand or a hundred thousand would be impossible."

  "Then why bother?" Raslin asked, throwing his hands up in exasperation and nearly hitting Kyros. "Why is all right for you to risk your life for these people when they don't even bother to stand with you?"

  "They're scared," Kyros said quietly. "A lot of them have families, and the council has no qualms using that against them.

  If you were married and had a young son or daughter, would you risk their lives to stand against the council?"

  "Yes," Raslin said sharply. "What's the point of keeping them safe if they're going to grow up and have to fear for their lives and their family's lives? I would never ask someone to stand for me on the pretense that I need protection because I'm married or have children."

  Kyros smiled faintly. He could believe that; Raslin had never been one to back down simply because he might be hurt.

  Raslin's answer might be different had he actually been married or had a child; Kyros had lost a few of his staunchest supporters because they felt they couldn't justify the risk to their family.

  "I left because of a threat to my mother," Kyros said, but that only earned him a scoff.

  "I never said I wouldn't try to protect my family, only that I wouldn't hide behind that," Raslin said, rolling his eyes. "You're an idiot for going back, but you've always been an idiot. I don't see that changing now."

  "Thanks," Kyros said dryly. "I'm not planning to be killed, you know."

  "But you said it would probably happen. What happens when you die, then? There will be no one to take your place, and they win anyway."

  "I can't not try," Kyros said, resisting the urge to tell Raslin about the things he'd seen, the offers—the bribes—he'd been made. He wasn't going to get Raslin anymore deeply involved than he was already. "I might make a difference to someone who's willing to continue the fight when I can't."

 

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