by Amy Keeley
“There was a Dog with them. One of the older ones.”
Not Razev? Did Zhiv have friends among the Dogs? It seemed odd for someone who supposedly hated them as much as rumor said he did.
Perhaps the Disciples should be purging the Dogs instead.
Vyomsi stood. “You’ve done,” his throat constricted with unshed tears. He waited until the feeling passed before trying to speak again, “Far better than expected. You have exceeded my expectations. I promise you, one day you’ll get the honors in the pack that you’ve always wanted. At least, if all goes according to plan.”
“I’m sure they will, my lord.”
Vyomsi hesitated. He wanted to kiss her on the hand or the forehead. He wanted so much to show some sort of affection, and yet this moment...he was more frightened now than he’d ever been, even the moment when he met his father for the first time. For a moment, he’d had to imagine a life without Ishia, and he found he didn’t like it.
“We’ll find him, Dog Ishia,” he said, his voice low and full of fury. “We can’t get near whatever portal he used, but we have our own now. We can move faster than him. Just wait. I’ll do more than bring him to justice. I’ll put him in rooms that haven’t been opened since the Dogs brought in the first Ornic lords and turned them into masses of rotting flesh. Burning would be a mercy. I’ll get him, and every soul that travels with him.”
His hand ached at the thought. He rubbed it thoughtfully. “Every one of them. I promised him once he would see his friends burn in front of him. Now, he’ll see worse than that. I promise you, Ishia. He’ll see far worse now.”
***
Krysilla opened her eyes. She hadn’t even realized she’d fallen asleep. She looked to her side. Zhiv was gone. Everyone was gone.
“Do you need any medicine?”
She rolled over at the sound of the taller Dog’s voice. His back was ramrod straight, his attitude more cautious, more serious, and yet, he had a faint smile on his face and that made him look like Zhiv. “I don’t—I don’t think so.”
“The others did. Even Zhiv. I think he’s starting to get used to this magic, though. It wasn’t as bad as I expected.”
She blinked. Never, in her strangest dreams, did she imagine something like this, talking like this. With a Dog. And then, she remembered where she’d seen him: the forest outside Hurush. “I didn’t fool you at all when I said I was taking the lock to Hon Jixsin, did I?”
The Dog’s smile grew. Yes, he looked very much like Zhiv when he smiled. Must be related. “If you hadn’t known the name of a man we thought we could trust, I would have brought you in that day.”
She nodded slowly. “I see.”
“My companion felt it was enough to report you.” His smile faded. “If I’d known the result, I wouldn’t have let you go near him. I’m sorry.”
Krysilla shrugged. “The King would have discovered me sooner or later.” My husband made sure of that, she thought with a bitterness that surprised her.
“But perhaps, things would not have gone so wrong.”
“And perhaps the rift might be open above our heads and the world in flame.”
He took in a deep breath at that and looked at the sky. “That’s the hardest part to believe.”
“It’s true. I was there and heard him speak myself.” And then she explained about the King’s view of the nobles, of how he wanted to consolidate power, and of what she’d heard from the Disciples.
The Dog listened attentively, with a focus that was sharp, but not as calculating as Zhiv’s. And when she was done, he nodded. “Have you considered going to one of the nobles with this information?”
“Zhiv doesn’t trust any of them right now.”
“I don’t blame him,” the Dog muttered. “Still, I’m sure more than one would love to hear what we have to share.” And he quickly told her about the state of the castle after the attack, of the doors blasted outward. And if a Dog says it, she thought, then it was accepted as fact. Things were looking very good.
Frustrated, she stared at the sky. “What is your relation to him?”
The Dog hesitated. “Older brother,” he finally said.
She remembered that he’d changed his name. “What do the others call you?”
“Ulandi Jhohdi. Exotic enough to explain any eccentricities, but not so different that I can’t be part of the pack.” His face clouded. “My current companion, Kirag, doesn’t know.”
“Ah.” She stared at the sky again. “Is he here?”
“No. He left with Zhiv and the men to look for shelter for the night.”
She was going to ask him what Zhiv called him. But mention of a Dog escorting Zhiv made her curious where things might stand. “And in the morning?”
He sighed. “Zhiv’s imprint is all over what remains of the staircase. I can’t hide that. Even with the information we have, too many want the chance to hunt him. And Teranasin apparently has greater sway in the pack than I expected.”
“Money?”
Ulandi shook his head. “Loyalty. If the King, mad as he was, chose Teranasin, or gave some sign to the Dogs that he was to take the throne, some might decide to obey him before it’s proven.”
“Does it often happen that way?”
“If the King was alive and made his wishes known in person, yes. Not like this. All we can hope for is that not all the Dogs want the glory of burning the first Ornic seen in almost a hundred years. And with the terror the Dogs can inspire among the nobles, I can see why Zhiv would hesitate.”
“Then, what happens?”
“In the morning, we go to the local lord, Marilisin, and tell him what we know. He’s a friend of Lord Felldesh, whose influence has grown since his wife left, and a good man, if a bit eccentric. He’ll make a useful ally if he believes us.”
If? “But he’d have your word on top of ours.”
“And the word of the Dogs who are willing to lie for Teranasin. And there’s no guarantee, goodwife, that he doesn’t have a vested interest in supporting Teranasin in his bid for the throne.”
She thought of the Dogs outside the cavern and nodded slowly.
“You’ll go free,” Ulandi said. Krysilla looked at him in surprise. “That’s part of the deal.”
She heard someone approach and looked up. Zhiv, his case slung over his shoulder, wearing a broad-brimmed hat, of a style she had never seen, approached them, barefooted and with the legs of his pants rolled up. He wore a plain brown vest, one that was much too wide, with a white handkerchief stuffed in the pocket.
Aquamarine eyes sparkling, he grinned at her. “Sleep well?”
“Well enough.”
“She’s recovering surprisingly well.”
“Must be due to ending the spell correctly,” he muttered. “No fever?” Zhiv asked his brother.
Razev shook his head. “Low-grade, and I’m not even sure of that.”
“Amazing. How about standing?”
Krysilla barely managed to bring herself to leaning on one elbow.
“No. Don’t.” Zhiv sat down next to her. “There’s no need for you to push yourself.”
“Are the others all right?” She laid back down.
“Nitty’s just fine. The children, too. They’re down the shore, see?”
Krysilla turned enough to make out her sister and the kids looking at something along the shoreline. Tira was smiling as she crouched down next to the boys who were poking at something with a stick. She chuckled.
“Hyaji has a mild fever, and Daegan isn’t doing well. He pushed himself more than either of us expected. They’re resting in the shelter we found.”
She remembered what Ulandi had said. “You?”
“Perfectly fine.”
She took note of his pale face and tired eyes. Perfectly fine. Of course. “And we’re safe?”
“For now. In line with that, Razev? Have you told her?”
Ah, that was what Zhiv called him. Razev glared at Zhiv. “I was about to since you were taking
your time getting back.”
“It was your companion’s fault. One look at the pretty dresses and he had to have one himself.”
Razev’s eyes narrowed. “I hope you didn’t talk like that around him.”
“He’s actually a fairly pleasant fellow. A perfect jailer.”
Krysilla blinked. That was what Razev had had in mind when he said he couldn’t hide Zhiv’s magic. “Are we arrested then? No. You said we weren’t.” She looked up at Razev who smiled sadly at her.
“I said you were free, goodwife. As is the Disciple, Hon Jixsin, your sister and the children. All of them.”
Fear made her cold. “And Zhiv?”
Zhiv answered with a doffing of his hat. “The Ornic must be watched closely, else he might try to escape from the wrath of Lord Teranasin.”
She shook her head and tried to sit up again. “No.”
Zhiv’s light and flippant tone changed instantly. “Goodwife?”
“You saved the kingdom.” Her arms trembled. “You would have saved the royal family if you could.”
“Lay back down, goodwife.”
“You are not a criminal to be put to death.”
Zhiv’s hands on her shoulders made it clear how weak she was. “Goodwife, I’ll explain everything—”
“No. You keep saying that, and chances are good you’ll only explain things as they’re happening and if there isn’t enough time well that’s too bad now isn’t it?”
Zhiv’s fingers brushed some loose hair from her face. “Then I’ll explain it now. If he hasn’t already told you, Razev cannot let me go. It would take a pardon from the highest authority in the kingdom to make the Dogs hesitate, and even that might not work. As long as he has me in custody, he is the one in charge of me. He designates who gets close and who must keep a distance. In its own strange way, it’s a protection.”
Krysilla stared at Zhiv, then his brother. “Is this true?”
“Yes. For now.”
“What does he mean?” she demanded of Zhiv.
“His protection only lasts so long. Once my fate is decided, no matter what that fate may be, the Dogs who want glory and honor will be lining up to burn me. We’re working within the system, goodwife. Isn’t that what you wanted? I tell Lord Marilisin what I know, he writes it down, Kirag acts as witness, along with one of Marilisin’s scribes, and he publishes it among the nobles. Teranasin is exposed and we all go home.”
“Except you.”
“Aw.” He flicked the ends of her hair on the rock. “Answer me truly. Will you be sorry to see me go?”
“Yes.”
The word surprised him. But only briefly. “My death isn’t certain, of course. It depends on whatever power Razev still has among the Dogs.”
“And that,” Razev said, “depends on how well you can convince Lord Marilisin.”
“That’s the least of my worries. He’s a good Tothsin,” the sneer was apparent yet faded quickly, “and a good man as well. He’ll listen. In the meantime, I’ve made a deal with an old man a little further down the shore. I played for him, and he offered us the use of his cave for the night. It’s shallow. No system behind it. But it’s some protection while we sleep.”
Krysilla’s head was still reeling from what he’d told her.
“Razev,” Zhiv said, “would you mind walking ahead while I help the goodwife up?”
His brother’s disapproving, sidelong glance made it clear he was already suspicious of their relationship.
“Just to talk,” she clarified, looking at Zhiv.
“Of course. Some think I do nothing else.”
That brought a smile to Razev’s face. “Don’t move out of sight.” His tone made it clear he didn’t want to have to respond as a Dog to that act.
“Thank you.”
Krysilla watched silently as the Dog walked to the edge of the cove. Once he was out of earshot she said, “Have you told them?”
“No. They’ll find out soon enough.”
“I thought you wanted to find power enough to defend yourself and those you love.”
“I do and will. I have no intention of dying. I may be in custody, but that doesn’t mean the situation is permanent.”
A measure of relief surprised her. Tears blurred her vision. “You’re going to escape?”
“Only if I can’t strike a deal. And then not until I know all of you will be safe.” Reaching out, his hand brushed against her cheek, wiping a tear that had managed to get away. And then she was in his arms and he was holding her close against him, with a tenderness that surprised her. “I’ve lost too many,” he whispered into her ear. “Do not put yourself in a situation where I’d lose you as well. Not again.”
She melted, tears spilling down her cheeks now. “Of course.”
“Ha.” He pulled her tighter against him. “You don’t have to dance to my tune, goodwife.”
He’d heard. He knew what Daegan had said to her. Snuggling tighter against him, she said, “What if I like to dance?”
He let her go, his grin firmly in place, though his eyes glistened. “I also mean it when I say we have to start with Lord Marilisin. Everything else flows from there. And that starts tomorrow. Tonight, we take our medicine and rest.”
She nodded and tried to get up.
“Do you want me to carry you?” Zhiv asked.
“No, I think I—” and she collapsed back on the ground.
“I’ll carry you.”
She thought of his casting and the fever that sometimes followed. “Can you?”
“I still have time. I don’t think things will get bad until tonight. Personally, I thought you’d be more concerned about how it might appear to my brother.”
“A little,” she admitted.
“Would you prefer it if I kissed you first? It might answer any questions.”
And for the first time she remembered that she was wearing a blue sash. And that she’d lost her divorce certificate. She blushed. “No. It wouldn’t be wise.”
His eyes narrowed, but his smile grew. “Take off the sash.”
“But—”
“You aren’t married anymore. There’s no reason to wear it. Take it off and anyone who sees us will think—”
“Something scandalous, that’s what they’ll think.”
“But not of a married woman.” He grew serious once more. “You’re no longer his, Krysilla.”
Her eyes widened. “Good—”
“Jyomsa, then? You’re no longer his, and although I know of many widows who continue to be called ‘goodwife’ I, for one, refuse to use it any longer. Besides,” his easy grin returned, “we’ve become partners, you and I.”
“You don’t call Daegan by his last name.”
“I don’t call Daegan a lot of things. Your choice, Krysilla. Personal name or last. I’ll call you goodwife no longer.”
“You seem more upset at my husband than I am.”
She wasn’t sure if he were considering his words, or getting his feelings under better control when he stared at the sand and the water. “I hold no respect for those who make promises they know they won’t keep.” And she could hear in his tone that he would say nothing more on the subject.
She looked out at the cove, the sky turning shades of purple and pink as the sun went down. Zhiv wasn’t always correct about magic. And sometimes his plans didn’t work as he’d hoped. But he knew people. And he was right about her sash. There was no longer any need to wear it. If her husband had died, she’d be allowed a time between the blue and the white and black sash. Why not divorce as well? And somehow, she would find the material she needed. If she could assist in opening a portal built by the Ornic, she could figure out how to get the sash she needed. Or, considering he was the one who told her about her husband in the first place, Zhiv could. Fingers trembling, she undid the knot, slowly taking it off from around her waist. She wrapped it up into a small ball and held it. “I’ll need a proper one before I’m introduced to Lord Marilisin. Not after.�
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“I’m sure I’ll be able to procure something.”
“No stealing.”
His face closed. “Do you think I’m a thief?”
“No. But you seem very...practical.”
A faint smile appeared on his face. He closed his eyes and rubbed them. “So I am. But fear not fair maiden, I’m no thief. I only cheat at cards.”
Her shocked expression must have amused him. He laughed, though the sound was tired. “Counting. On occasion, I count them. Are you going to tell me to stop now?”
“As if I could.” And she found she was smiling, happier than she’d been since their time in the meadow. No, since the times they spoke in the Jixsin house. And with more than a little misgiving, she realized she had begun to treasure those moments. But we’re friends, she told herself. Or something close to it. He likes me. And I like him. And in this moment, that’s as it should be.
Perhaps her happiness was what did it. Perhaps it was the fact that they could finally relax after all their running, even if was only for the night. Perhaps it was the setting sun, and her steady, admiring gaze that made the smile fade from Zhiv’s face. “Jyomsa, there is to be nothing between us, correct?”
His words brought her out of her precious moment. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play coy.” He took a small stone and skipped it across the water.
“If you mean friendship—”
“I mean we will never bed. Is that correct?”
Yes, the moment was definitely slipping away. “Are you saying you’d be willing to settle down?”
His mouth twisted in distaste and she laughed. “Are you saying,” he said, “that you want to be a wife again?”
“Yes.” She chuckled. “It’s a strange thing to say, having just left a room where more than one person was trying to kill us, but yes, I do. Not just any man, though. This time, I want someone who truly loves me.”
“You can have that without a marriage.”
“Can I? If I wanted just any man, perhaps. Or if all I wanted was someone to warm my bed at night, then that might be true. But I want someone who is willing to do his fair share of building a life together. I want someone who’s tied as firmly to me as I am to him. I want—”