Kyros usually slept until midway through the morning, though he kept insisting that Raslin should wake him when he rose. Raslin snorted softly as he crossed the loft, his head ducked to keep from bashing it on the rafters. There was no need for Kyros to be dragged out of bed before the crack of dawn. He'd just insist on helping around the village and house, and there was no need for him to do that, either.
He needed to rest. Kyros seemed to think they couldn't see the dark circles under Kyros' eyes or the way his clothes were loose, like he'd lost a great deal of weight recently. That Kyros was all muscle and bone only lent to the impression that he'd been running himself ragged for quite some time.
Raslin wondered cynically if the council Kyros was fighting would be the death of him, or if Kyros would take care of that himself. Taking a pair of thick socks from the bureau, Raslin pulled them on one at a time, debating for the hundredth time whether he should outright offer to go with Kyros, since he doubted Kyros would ask. He'd probably just get in the way …
but with Ailynn leaving, and Kyros gone—forever, this time, Kyros had been clear about that—what did Raslin have left in Ourenville?
His sister, Raslin thought. Technically, he'd be leaving her, and Raslin felt terrible that he didn't feel guilty at the thought of leaving Nikla behind. They'd grown apart, really; Nikla had moved on after their parents had died. She rarely bothered to do more than say hello, unless she wanted him to come help her and Angelos fix something around their house. Sighing, Raslin ran a hand through his hair, making a note to have Ailynn trim it before she left.
She wasn't happy about leaving, Raslin knew, but she was putting a good face on it. Raslin would miss her, almost as much as he had missed Kyros. It was stupid to want to throw away everything to follow a man he hadn't seen for five years.
Especially since, by all rights, Kyros and Ailynn were leaving him sitting pretty. Ailynn wouldn't be returning, which meant the house would be his. It was a nicer house than the one he'd let Nikla take over, but that was poor consolation.
Turning, Raslin stopped in surprised. Kyros was sitting up, looking like he'd love nothing more than to go back to sleep.
"Good morning," Raslin said, expecting and receiving nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgment. Kyros stumbled to his feet, and Raslin headed for the loft ladder, meaning to get out of Kyros' way and maybe make an escape before Kyros could invite himself along on the day's tasks.
"Wait," Kyros said, the word hoarse with sleep. Raslin turned back towards him expectantly, but Kyros only waved at him. "Give me a minute. I'll meet you downstairs."
"You don't have to get up now," Raslin said, well aware that it was a futile exercise to try to keep Kyros in bed. He hadn't stayed the last few days when Raslin had tried to get him to sleep longer.
Kyros cleared his throat, looking marginally more awake as he pushed the hair from his face. "I need to give you something."
"What?" Raslin asked, curious but wary.
"It's … it requires explanation," Kyros said, yawning widely.
"All right," Raslin said, wondering what in the world Kyros was giving to him. Nothing good, he thought as he climbed down from the loft. Probably something for safekeeping, since his travels had been delayed. Unfortunately, while the snow had tapered off, it was still falling, and the storm looked to be gathering more snow to dump on them.
The snow was great from the village's standpoint— everyone loved snow for Solstice. It was yet another sign that winter was truly there. However, it was terrible for Kyros and his compatriots who were travelling to take Ailynn to her new home. Unfortunately, Raslin doubted—though he hoped—the snow would deter the men who were after Kyros. Travel was likely only difficult around Ourenville; they'd be able to get close before the snow hindered them.
"Did I hear Kyros up and about?" Ailynn asked, already setting a bowl of porridge out for him. It was accompanied by a thick slice of bread and a cup of ale.
"I don't think he'll be up for long," Raslin said, the half-truth rolling off his tongue easily. Kyros would stall if he knew Ailynn was around to fret over him, but Raslin doubted he'd be convinced to return to bed. "Though he might try."
"Hmm," Ailynn said, casting the loft a quelling look. "We'll see. I'll hang around for a while, then."
"I can handle feeding him, if you want to get down to Hally's," Raslin offered, knowing Ailynn had plans to spend most of the day baking with her cousin.
Ailynn considered for a moment, and then nodded. "She'll be expecting me, and I'd rather not start the day on a bad note.
Give Kyros my love."
Raslin nodded and sat down at the table. Ailynn bustled around, packing up a satchel with a few dishes and some ingredients. When she left, Raslin could see a glimpse of more snow falling outside.
Kyros stumbled down from the loft a few moments later, not looking much more awake than he had when Raslin had left him previously. He wandered over to the kitchen, looking around as though he was missing something.
"Where's my mother?" Kyros asked finally. He sounded more awake, at least.
"She went down to Hally's to do some baking and spend some time with her," Raslin said, finishing off the rest of the porridge in his bowl. "You want breakfast?"
"No, it'll keep," Kyros said, yawning. Raslin hoped he did go back to bed when he was finished with whatever he wanted to give Raslin. Kyros set a small wooden box on the table. It was square, about the size of Raslin's bowl, and as Kyros moved the box, Raslin could see each side was carved. The carvings were faces mostly, though one side—the front, perhaps—was carved instead with an intricate pattern that didn't seem to paint a picture.
"What is it?" Raslin asked. Kyros slid the box towards him across the table top. It rattled when Raslin picked it up, and he frowned at it. It was hollow inside, but there was no obvious latch.
"It's a puzzle box," Kyros said, pushing a lock of his ash blond hair from his face. He scooted his chair closer, his knee accidentally knocking against Raslin's under the table. Kyros paid it no mind, though. "As you probably guessed, it's got a compartment inside."
"How do you open it?" Raslin asked, trying to ignore Kyros'
proximity and the way it made him too aware of Kyros' every slight movement. There was barely a foot of space between them, though the corner of the table gave the illusion that they were further apart than that.
"There are a series of catches you have to press at the same time," Kyros said, looking up and meeting Raslin's eyes. Kyros'
expression was solemn, and Raslin fought a shiver at the intensity in Kyros' gaze. "I'll walk you through it."
Raslin turned it over in his hands. He spotted one of the catches immediately; one of the faces' noses was more prominent than the rest, and pressing it made the box click.
"Press that one, and the left eye on the adjacent face,"
Kyros directed. Raslin did so, and a small panel on the top of the box popped open. He flipped it open, revealing a deep cubby.
There were three gold coins in the box, along with a silver ring set with a single green stone.
"What are they for?" Raslin asked, frowning. The coins were just coins; there was nothing significant about them that Raslin could see. The ring could be anything though, and Raslin wouldn't know its import. Raslin pulled it out of the box, studying it in the firelight cast by the stove.
"Distraction," Kyros said. "I need to add something to keep them from rattling, but I haven't gotten around to it yet."
"There's some fabric scraps—" Raslin started, but Kyros shook his head.
"That's not important," Kyros said, pulling the box closer.
"You can only do this with the first compartment open. Then you press here … and here … and keep the box flat on the table." Kyros placed his hands carefully along the edges of the box, slowly and deliberately so that Raslin could follow along.
Another flap popped open, thin and small, along the bottom of the box.
Kyros slid the tray o
ut, revealing a compressed, folded stack of papers, and that made more sense than the coins and the ring. He unfolded the pages, studying them for a moment before passing them to Raslin. Raslin took them, automatically catching the thick iron key that fell out as he took the sheaf of papers.
The top page was a deed to a house in Mykon, a coastal city that was clear on the other side of the country from where Kyros had said Ailynn was going. The second was a page authorizing Ailynn to withdraw funds from a bank account in Mykon set up under the same Timel Akab. Another page authorized payment of fifty gold coins to someone named Ambry Terrin.
"What is this?" Raslin asked, even though he was sure he knew. "I thought you didn't want me to know where you were moving Ailynn."
"I didn't, but it's necessary now," Kyros said, sitting back in his chair and accidentally kicking Raslin. "Sorry."
"It isn't necessary now," Raslin said flatly, folding the papers back together without bothering to read through the rest of them. He shoved them back at Kyros, slapping the key down on top. "If you want me to pass them along to Ailynn's transport, I'll do that, but—"
"I'm not leaving until she's safely on her way," Kyros said firmly, picking up the key and the papers. He refolded them neatly, then tucked the key into the folds. "If the council's men show up before my people, then I'll give myself up. That won't stop them from taking her, to ensure my cooperation, so you'll have to hide her until Jallen and Ambry can take her to Mykon."
"No," Raslin said, frustration and anger sweeping through him again. What was wrong with Kyros? Why did he persist in throwing himself into danger? "You'll both hide—"
"They'll burn the village down to find me," Kyros said flatly, pushing his hair out of his face with an impatient gesture. "I'm not risking that. That's if someone in the village doesn't give me up anyway. Once people hear I'm wanted for murder, someone will give me up."
Raslin scowled. "You can make a break for it, and I'll hide Ailynn. They'll know you were here, but we can make it seem you tried to run for it with Ailynn."
"It might not happen anyway," Kyros said, shrugging in dismissal. "I'll leave the box in your bureau. If they do a search, they'll think it's yours and the coins and ring won't raise any suspicion."
"You're not giving yourself up," Raslin said adamantly, not letting Kyros change the subject.
"It shouldn't be an issue. The snow is keeping everyone away," Kyros said, tucking the papers back into their slot in the box. "This is a last resort, and I don't think it will actually happen."
"Then why plan for it?" Raslin demanded, scowling.
"Because planning for every possibility is the only way I've managed to stay out of the council's reach this long," Kyros said tiredly. Raslin bit his lip on the suggestion that it would be easier with two of them to do the planning.
"Right," Raslin said, watching carefully as Kyros slid the bottom compartment back into place. He stood, crossing to the chest by the fireplace. A moment's search found a spare rag, and he brought it back to the table and handed it to Kyros.
Kyros wrapped the coins and ring in the cloth and tucked it back into the box. Clicking it shut, he gave it a shake, getting only a small thud for his trouble.
"Thanks," Kyros said belatedly, studying the box distractedly.
When it became clear that Kyros wasn't going to say anything else, Raslin walked away. He headed for the front door, where he'd left his boots and jacket. Maybe a day's work away from Kyros would set his head back on straight, though Raslin rather doubted it.
"Really, Ras," Kyros said, as Raslin pulled on a boot. Raslin nearly lost his balance trying to turn around and pull on his boot at the same time, but a bit of creative hopping saved him.
"Thank you for everything, especially looking after my mother. I know it's not something you were looking for."
"Don't be an idiot," Raslin said, straightening up and stamping his foot to settle the boot he'd pulled on. "We've already had this conversation."
"I know," Kyros said, smiling wryly. He slouched in his seat, and then glanced at the wall opposite him, looking distracted.
He opened his mouth to say something else, but shut it without a word.
Raslin waited a moment, but Kyros didn't speak up so Raslin went back to putting on his boots. He pulled on his jacket, then paused, turning back to Kyros. "Stay here and get some rest."
"Yes, mother," Kyros said, slanting him a smile. Raslin rolled his eyes, fastening his jacket shut with quick, well-practiced movements. Kyros' eyes followed his hands, and Raslin could feel his face heating under Kyros' gaze. He wanted more than Kyros' eyes on him, wanted more than the half-realized dream of Kyros in his bed, but he wasn't going to get it.
Raslin left, before he could say something that would rile Kyros, like let me come with you. Kyros hadn't gotten angry at him since the day he'd arrived. Raslin wasn't sure if that was because the topic of his return to Alesdor hadn't come up or if Kyros had been too tired to control his temper the day he'd arrived in Ourenville.
There were only a few days left until the Solstice celebration, and most everyone was preparing for it. Nearly every available surface in the square was decorated with greenery from the forest, most of it dusted with snow. The bonfire burned in the center of the square, heralding the pending festivities. It would burn throughout the festival and then after for as long as there was wood to feed it.
Raslin usually loved the solstice festival, including all of the preparation and work that he did in the days leading up to it.
This year, however, he couldn't seem to summon his usual cheer. Ailynn was behaving in much the same way, and that was unusual enough that a few people had asked Raslin if she was all right. Raslin had started sowing the seeds of rumors that Ailynn might be traveling soon to visit a sick relative, since that was what he'd have to tell everyone once Ailynn and Kyros left.
Ailynn was visiting a sick relative; Kyros was headed back to the city, because there was absolutely nothing for him to be running away from. As far as Raslin and the rest of the village were supposed to know, Kyros was happy and thriving with his studies to be a mage.
Kyros seemed positive that the council would be sending people to Ourenville, but Raslin wasn't sure he could lie convincingly enough when the time came. He hoped for Kyros'
and Ailynn's sakes that he could. He didn't want to screw that up, but he couldn't even convince Kyros that going back to Alesdor was madness.
Sighing, Raslin shook his head as his steps took him through the village. He didn't have anything in particular to do today, but he could always find work. That seemed the smart plan—to keep himself busy until Kyros and Ailynn left so he wouldn't think about being left behind, and then keep himself busy after they left so he wouldn't think about running off to join Kyros.
If Kyros hadn't been killed or starved himself to death by that point.
Maybe he would move at the end of the winter. Raslin pondered that, nodding in greeting as he passed Ailynn's neighbor. He could go to the nearby city of Islar; it was a day's ride south and, being young and fit, he could probably find work. It was better than spending the rest of his days in Ourenville, doing the same things and dealing with the same people day in and day out.
He'd rather go with Kyros, even if it was dangerous. Kyros would never ask him to go, Raslin knew that. He was too wrapped up in keeping everyone but himself safe. Raslin couldn't force his way in, either. Kyros would find a way to lose him or make him stay.
Raslin reached the square, pausing as he took in the roaring bonfire and the people milling around. There were children underfoot everywhere, and Raslin reluctantly cracked a smile as a pair of boys chased each other around the square, yelling at the top of their lungs. He and Kyros had been like that once, and he really, really needed to stop clinging to the past. Kyros wasn't his to worry about, and Kyros obviously didn't want him to do any worrying at all.
Shoving the thoughts out of his head, Raslin went to tend the bonfire for a while. He'd ba
rely taken two steps, however, when a strange sound distracted him. A pair of horses came up the main path on the far side of the square. They led a carriage, and Raslin's heart briefly stopped. No one but tax officials ever visited Ourenville in carriages; most people simply rode in on horses or came with peddler's carts.
Turning, Raslin headed back out of the square; he needed to warn Kyros and then head to Hally's to hide Ailynn until he knew for sure who the carriage was transporting.
"Ras!"
Raslin hesitated, then stopped, even as he thought he should pretend he hadn't heard it. Turning, he found Theri standing next to the carriage, waving him over. Raslin stifled a sigh, wondering if he could buy time for Kyros.
"These men are looking for Kyros," Theri said as he approached, gesturing up at the two men seated on the front seat of the carriage with a gloved hand. She was practically unrecognizable, wrapped in a thick jacket that easily doubled her width.
The two men didn't look like they were officials of any sort.
They wore thick travel cloaks that had obviously seen better days, and the carriage itself looked much the same. It had faded paint and missing moldings under the snow and mud that had accumulated through its travels.
"Oh?" Raslin asked, striving to keep his tone light. "What in the world would have you travelling all the way out here for Kyros? He's headed back to Alesdor in a few days."
"Kyros asked us to help him get his mother to Tristowne,"
the man on the left said, his voice smooth and cultured. Raslin relaxed, still suspicious, but that fit with what the cover story Kyros had concocted to explain Ailynn's absence. It was possible the men were imposters, though Kyros hadn't mentioned that as a possibility.
"I see," Raslin said, smiling though he didn't feel at all like smiling. "Kyros should still be at the house. I'll show you the way."
"Ailynn's going to Tristowne?" Theri demanded, looking aghast. "Why?"
"Sick relative. A great-aunt? I'm not sure the relation, but she didn't want to tell anyone yet because of the festival,"
Raslin said, the lie rolling off his tongue smoothly. "She'll probably be gone a few months, maybe a year."
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