by Amy Keeley
“Free her. Free her if you want anyone to believe there was something more to you than fear and hatred.”
The King wheezed. “You mean you.”
“Please, Highness.” The muscles of his jaw worked furiously under the skin. “I’m begging you.”
The King chuckled, then relaxed. His body jerked once, then went terribly still.
“No,” Zhiv whispered. “No, you bastard. You slime-covered son of an Ornic, you will not die! Not yet!” He let go of her wrist and grabbed the King by the front of his shirt.
“Zhiv.” The Queen put her hand on his shoulder. Daegan moved forward, slowly.
“Free her, you miserable piece of filth!” he screamed in the King’s face. “You murderous bastard, take it off!” Tears filled Krysilla’s eyes.
“He can’t hear you anymore, Zhiv,” Daegan said, grabbing him lightly by the shoulders.
“It’s all right, Zhiv,” Krysilla began but Zhiv let go and whirled around to face her.
“No, it isn’t. Because the moment that bastard husband of yours finds the money gone, Lady Felldesh will go running back to her husband, the one who can support her, with tears in her eyes, begging for forgiveness. And your joke of a husband will think back on those wonderful days when you were willing to wait on him hand and foot and don’t think he won’t. He’ll think of that and he’ll search for you, also begging for forgiveness. And because of that spell, that damned spell, you’ll have to go with him, no matter what you’ve rebuilt. It is not all right. I will not let it be all right.” He whirled around and this time Daegan grabbed him tightly by the shoulders. “You will not die! You hear that, Highness!”
“He’s already dead, Zhiv,” Daegan said, quietly.
The words slowly sank through Zhiv’s fury. That intense focus once again returned. His nostrils flared. “Then we’ll find another way.”
But he won’t come back for me, Krysilla thought. Lejer had been many things, but he’d always made it clear how little he thought of her, especially toward the end. The one he loved was Lady Felldesh. That wouldn’t change, no matter how much money he had, or even whether or not Lady Felldesh was with him. He’d loved her the whole seven years they were married. There would be no reason for him to call Krysilla back to him.
After he’s calmed down, she thought, I’ll explain this to him.
“I’ll grant her the divorce, Zhiv,” the Queen said. “It will be legally binding.”
Still somewhat breathless from his tirade, Zhiv seemed to think this over. Turning to Daegan, he said, “Who knew about the spell?”
“Myself, the goodwife, the King, and Lord Teranasin.”
And two of those were dead. She waited as Zhiv ran the fingers of one hand through his hair. “Does that sound acceptable, goodwife?” he asked. She could see in his eyes that it would never be acceptable to him.
But this wasn’t his life, and she was grateful he respected her enough to let it be her decision. “Yes,” she said.
He nodded, still unhappy with recent events. “Then, I shall stop my crusade on your behalf,” he tried to grin.
For a long time, he stared at the King. Without any further sign of respect, he turned away. “Did you bring the amulet?” he asked. Daegan handed him the opal pendant he’d given her to wear when they’d walked through the Felldesh manor.
“I’ll send the paper tomorrow,” the Queen said to Krysilla, “after the announcement.”
“Thank you.” She curtsied deeply. Worried, she watched as Zhiv put on the amulet, disappearing from view.
“And thank you, Zhiv,” the Queen said, “for trying to reach him.”
“He only hesitated when I spoke of you.” Zhiv’s voice was unrecognizable, layered with spells. “He loved you dearly.”
“And he thought highly of you.”
There was a hesitation, and Krysilla wondered what he thought of that. Probably nothing, she decided, remembering the things he’d shouted at the King. If it means anything, it’s just another addition to his disappointment. “Thank you, Highness. Daegan?”
She couldn’t see Zhiv. Only Daegan appeared to turn to leave, briefly facing the King and touching his forehead as a sign of respect to the dead. Without hesitation, Krysilla followed.
If Daegan had been surprised at all by her actions, he didn’t show it when he looked behind him. Why should he? she thought. I’m still in his employ. I live in the same house.
There was no scent of smoke in the streets. There was no panic, nor any rushing from one home to another among the citizens. The only sign something might be wrong was the silence from what had once been the clock tower as they walked home.
No one spoke as they walked. Even when they got to the Jixsin home, they said nothing. Only when Tira came running down the stairs, pale and with frightened eyes did anyone say anything. “Oh, dearie,” Krysilla said. Tira raced forward and buried herself in Krysilla’s skirt. “We’re home now.”
Tira looked around. “He’s here, too,” Krysilla said, knowing who she was looking for.
“That I am.” Zhiv’s voice no longer had any layers. He appeared in the blink of an eye, opal amulet in hand. He looked tired, but otherwise well. His smile, however, showed the strain today’s events had put on him. “Give us a kiss, then off to your aunt’s room.” He looked up at Krysilla as he bent forward to receive the kiss. “You don’t mind?”
“Not at all.” She grinned at the sweetness of the moment, and at Tira’s obvious joy at being in the Jixson home. “And you?” she said to Daegan who shrugged, the corners of his mouth barely upturned.
“She’s quiet and well-behaved.”
“Spoken like a true bachelor,” Zhiv said, and walked to the kitchen. “Goodwife, soon to be some other name I’m unaware of, what would you like to eat?”
“I’ll take care of it,” Daegan offered. “You two, sit.”
Zhiv didn’t protest. And when he sat heavily in the chair, slouching down, Krysilla began to wonder how soon the fever would hit him. But if this had happened before, they must have a remedy on hand. Krysilla sat across from him, watching him closely.
“Zhiv,” Daegan said, using his true name for the first time around her, “how long do you think we have?”
Instead of answering directly, Zhiv looked at Krysilla. “How do you feel about travel?”
“What kind?”
“The kind where you move from place to place.” Daegan hit the back of his head and Zhiv chuckled before growing serious, though a remnant of his smile remained. “We have several plans, all of which are tied to the King.”
“As if we could foresee this,” Daegan muttered.
“Depending on how tomorrow goes, we may end up needing to leave the city very quickly. You and Tira both.”
“And my sister.”
Zhiv shook his head. “I don’t think that’s wise.”
“We can’t just take my niece.” She thought of how she would feel if someone took a child she had raised and found she hated even the thought of it.
“It’s not as if she’s staying with us forever.” At Krysilla’s glare he said, “And it’s not as if she won’t know where her daughter is. But goodwife, your sister may refuse to leave. The Dogs saw you jump from the clock tower with me. Every one of your relations, because of our actions, is going to be affected in some way. It’s one thing to let someone of age go their own way and it’s another to let them take a child into danger with them.”
“While we’re talking about family, what about yours?” Daegan said, placing a plate of jerky, cheese, and bread on the table, along with some fruit.
“Yes. I’ll need to warn her about that.”
“Who?” Krysilla had never considered that he might have family. The King had made it sound as if he was the only one to survive.
“My sister. She’s married and has two boys.” His thoughts drifted away once more, and this time his eyes slowly closed as well. Shaking his head briskly, he sat up straight and ate a piece of bread.
“I think I’ll wait until tomorrow though. It might be more dangerous to contact her now.”
Krysilla thought through all the events. “And what of Lord Teranasin?”
Zhiv shrugged, but it was Daegan who answered. “The King may kill whichever noble he feels is a threat. It’s a tradition from the days of the Ornic wars. No one will think twice because the King was there.”
Closing his eyes again, Zhiv said, “The Queen will announce his death tomorrow, as well as Lord Teranasin’s. I will go to work, as I always have. Daegan will complete his work as he always has, and help you keep an eye on the little one, if you so desire. You will, all three of you, go to the square to hear her words. And if anything happens that shows the current climate is a threat, we meet here and take flight.”
“Are you going to tell her how?” Daegan said, sitting down with a jug of ale from the pantry that he poured into three cups.
“Do you remember my bag?” Zhiv said to Krysilla. “That is how we’ll escape.”
“It seems a little small to hide in.” She remembered when they had been preparing to enter the Felldesh vault and he had placed all sorts of items in it...and it never got any bigger.
“I’ve made more than one kind.”
“You figured out how to close the door?” Daegan asked.
“Indeed I did.” Zhiv should have looked proud of himself. Instead, he looked like he was about to fall asleep. He rubbed his forehead. “A pact. Now. Before I go under.”
“Like before?” Daegan asked, his hand already palm down on the table.
Zhiv nodded and put his hand next to Daegan’s, almost touching. “Same as mine, goodwife.” She did so, feeling strange at being so fully included in their plans.
Zhiv took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “We swore we wouldn’t betray each other,” he said. She felt magic wrap around their hands, even though no one had gestured or even moved a finger, and surround them. “We swore we would only learn what was useful and good and that we would share this knowledge between us. There would be no secretive trades, no orders of people who could not touch what we learned, except those who might use it to harm others without just cause.” His aquamarine eyes opened. “And now, if you wish, you may become part of that, to rebuild the Ornic ways so that we may be protected. Do you wish to join us?”
She thought about the life she had wanted to build. She thought about the locks and Tira and the fact that she might be able to work for someone else when this was over. But no one, she thought, understands me like these two. Especially Zhiv. And Tira likes them both. It’s almost a family.
“Yes,” she said with a smile. “I do.”
“Will you undertake all burdens with us, according to your ability, and never betray us?”
Their eyes locked. “I do.”
“Then we promise the same.” His broad smile warmed her head to toe. “Welcome to our tribe.”
The spell wrapped its warmth around her hand and she realized it was a silence spell. A light one.
“No Dogs tonight?” she guessed. A silence spell would have immediately attracted attention if the Dogs were watching. Only ordinary citizens would be worth the trouble.
“The Queen will be talking to them all night long,” Zhiv said. “And I helped save the King.” His smile twisted. “That—that’s worth...some...” He leaned his head on the table.
“Do you need help getting upstairs?” Daegan asked.
“No,” came the slightly muffled reply. “Give me a moment.”
Daegan nodded. There was the sound of small feet and Tira appeared at the foot of the stairs. “Hungry?” Krysilla asked.
The girl nodded, her eyes watching them all closely. “Come and eat, then,” Daegan said, getting up. He walked past her into the room with locks on the table and lit the King’s Light there.
With more trepidation than Krysilla expected (or remembered from being near the children in her village), Tira stepped cautiously into the kitchen, then sat in a chair next to Krysilla and waited. Zhiv lifted his head. “Take what you like, dear. There’s plenty to go around.”
Hesitantly, Tira reached out and took some bread. Once it was clear that the grown-ups really meant what they’d said, she began to stuff food in her face as quickly as she could chew it, including a piece of jerky which happened to be a little tougher than she apparently expected. Zhiv, in spite of his exhaustion, grinned, while Krysilla, hoping she didn’t sound too harsh, gently told her she didn’t have to rush. The food would still be there. As she watched her eat, she couldn’t help wondering if she were hungry because she had missed supper, or if she had often been hungry and afraid, doing nothing because there was nothing to do. Not without incurring the wrath of someone bigger than her.
And in that moment, she resolved that she would convince her sister to join them, no matter what it took. And if she refused, Krysilla would beg her to let Tira join them. Looking at Zhiv, she thought, for a moment, that he was thinking of something else while he watched Tira. Perhaps he had spent many nights hungry and afraid as well when he was young? Then, he sat up, showing signs of the fever she remembered so well from when they had met.
“Do you need anything?” she asked, watching him get unsteadily to his feet.
“Medicine from Daegan. Just tell him, he’ll know what to do from...there.” He leaned against the door frame. With a glance at a worried Tira, Krysilla got up and put his arm around her shoulder.
“It seems you’ve done this once before,” he murmured.
“Just up the stairs. I’m sure you can get it from there.”
He didn’t answer. “What’s wrong?” Tira asked behind them, and Krysilla heard her get down from her chair.
“He’s just a little under the weather, dearest,” Krysilla said. From the table room, Daegan brought a small bottle and shot glass. Jogging up the stairs ahead of them, he said, “I’ll leave this by the bed, Zhiv.”
“Thank you.” Zhiv stopped and turned. Krysilla’s heart broke when she saw her niece staring at him with wide eyes.
“Can I help you?”
“Oh, little one,” Zhiv said, leaning against the stairs. “You know what you can do for me?” His head lolled forward and she could see him fighting to keep his thoughts straight. “Eat. Eat until your belly is so full you think you’ll burst and spill all the food you’ve just eaten onto the floor.”
Tira frowned. “That won’t help.”
“Oh yes it will. I swore it when I was your age. No one would starve if they were in my house. If they do,” he leaned once more on Krysilla, “that would make me very sad. You don’t want me to be sad now, do you?”
She slowly shook her head, blonde curls shaking.
“Then eat. And I swear I will be the happiest, and healthiest, man you’ve ever seen.”
He gently tugged on one of her curls, making her smile shyly. After Tira had run back to the table, Krysilla said in a low, amused voice, “Even the young ones?”
“She’s eating, isn’t she?”
Each step was slower than the first, and more difficult. Daegan was waiting for them at the top of the stairs. Zhiv leaned on him and Krysilla both as they made the circuit to his room on the opposite side of the stairs. “If I’d known,” Daegan said, “that you’d push yourself like this, I would have given you my room.”
“Incentive not to push myself.” Zhiv’s words trailed off and he collapsed to his knees.
“Well, now you’re stuck.” Daegan folded his arms. “Unless you’re willing to crawl to your room in front of the goodwife.”
“Nothing impresses a girl more,” he mumbled. “Just a moment.”
It took several moments before he was able to stand again long enough for Daegan to help him to bed. Krysilla, having gone ahead to turn down the covers, helped with his boots and soon Zhiv was in bed.
There was no need to adjust anything in the medicine they’d had ready. Whoever had made it had been careful, and concerned about making it as potent as possible.
But she doubted Zhiv had ever pushed himself magically as he had today. The fire that had exploded without warning in the bell tower was something she had only heard of in stories of evil Ornic who used such spells on innocent peasants and the nobles who protected them. And then there had been the spells he’d cast afterward to hold the tower, and the one that smashed the clock face, and stiffened his cloak. Even now, when she touched his cloak, she could feel the remnants of the spell in the fibers.
All that to say that she watched him very closely, more so than when she’d first met him, and wasn’t surprised that the medicine took several doses before his body had once more regulated itself. Daegan gave her an extra blanket and a chair, but they both took turns watching Zhiv and making sure Tira was kept safe.
And it was during a time when Krysilla had gone to tell her niece that she could sleep in her auntie’s bed tonight that Tira asked why the clock tower hadn’t chimed yet. While she tried to think of an answer, tears formed in Tira’s eyes. “Mummy will be looking for me,” she whispered.
“I’ll send a message to her,” Krysilla said quickly, resolving to do so in the morning. Too dangerous now.
Tira began to cry. “She said to be, be back-ack before the cl-clo-clock struck nine. Did I miss it?”
“No, dear. It’s broken. You didn’t miss anything. You’ve been a very good, very brave girl. Now,” she opened the door to her room and pulled back the covers on her bed, “go to sleep.” Tira climbed in and gave her aunt a kiss on the cheek.
That old pain that Krysilla had managed to ignore flared to life, and she couldn’t help wishing Tira was her own daughter, and able to go wherever Krysilla went. A terrible thing to wish, she told herself as she smiled and kissed the girl’s cheek in return. A terrible, awful thing if she was going with Zhiv.
She clapped lightly, dousing the King’s Light, then went to Zhiv’s room and saw he was sleeping peacefully. Glad to see he was out of the worst of it, she stretched, unsure just how late it was. However late, the kitchen needed to be straightened. Walking slowly down the stairs, she was surprised to hear the sound of dishes being washed and put away.