Everything would be all right. He seemed to believe that.
And somehow I believed it too. I believed him. How strange that feeling was.
In some ways, Simon was very different from the boy I remembered from so long ago, stronger, and with an air of confidence he never used to have. But now he was gentle, even kind, as he always was when we were children. I knew he was only doing this to protect Tenger's plan. But I wanted to believe a part of him was doing this to protect ... me.
I had to win against the Coracks, obviously. But I regretted the consequences to Simon, who would have to lose.
Beginning with losing his knife. I still planned to get it. The problem was the commotion happening just outside this tiny room.
"Lady Kestra has been missing from Antora for years. She isn't here." The innkeeper was a worse liar than me, if that was possible.
"Are you sure?" I could hear the smile in Thorne's voice. "Give the lady up, or as the heavens are my witness, you will die."
I should've made Trina come into this space with Kestra. Not me. Not with our history. Not a breath away from me. This was too close.
Kestra's heart pounded against mine, and with every breath, I inhaled the cinnamon scent of her hair. A thin line of moonlight teased at the angle of her jaw and highlighted her dark lashes.
If I didn't know who she was, I would ... but I did know. I knew her far too well.
Kestra's breaths were still shallow and too fast, too panicked. My hand moved to her face, my fingers brushing against her cheek. It wasn't a gesture of affection, but it did seem to calm her.
It did the very opposite to me.
As she relaxed, her body began molding to mine, impossibly becoming closer than before. Every shift of her position left me increasingly unsettled and distracted, a dangerous combination.
In the outer room, Trina was in far more danger. If I could've stayed in the room to help her, I would have. But if I had, they'd know Kestra was here too.
"I'll ask you again," one of the men said. "Where is Kestra?"
The innkeeper seemed to be at a loss for words, but Trina quickly filled in. "I'm Lady Kestra's handmaiden. She was here until about two hours ago. Then she heard of an approaching threat--you, I assume--and rode on with her guard for Highwyn. They'll be there by morning."
"Her carriage is still outside," a man said.
"They left by oropod, naturally. It's faster."
"Oropods." The man snorted. "Evil creatures born of dark magic. Kestra agreed to travel on one?"
Trina's voice rose in pitch. "I'm telling you the truth, sir. If my lady were here, do you think I'd have been allowed in this bed?"
"We have a ... gift for her in this sack. Something Darrow wanted."
Kestra's attention was immediately drawn to the mention of her servant's name. When she realized I had noticed, she looked away, but her breaths became harsher than before.
"What is the gift?" Trina asked. "Give it to me, and I'll see that my lady gets it."
"Tell me where Kestra really is, and I'll give it to her myself." When Trina remained silent, he said to the other Halderians with him, "Search this inn, every room. Kill anyone who stands in your way."
Kestra tried to push past me, obviously wanting to surrend
er herself, but I pressed her back to the wall. This was not negotiable. I felt the same ache for the guests here as she did, but her promise to find the Olden Blade was bigger than this one moment, and ultimately would save more lives than might be lost tonight.
Footsteps pounded into the hallway, though it sounded as if at least one man had remained in the bedroom. He seemed to be making a cursory search, though with such spare furnishings, he shouldn't be out there for long.
Kestra touched my cheek to get my attention. If only she knew how much she already had it. She motioned again that she wanted to leave this passage. I gave her hand a firm squeeze, then pressed it flat against my chest, where she could feel my heartbeat. A heartbeat was life, and all that mattered now was to remind her she was alive, and would remain so if she stayed quiet. It seemed to calm her a bit, so I left it there. Would she notice the quickening of its pace, the way each beat seemed to beg her to come closer?
Kestra began breathing more evenly again, and her eyes closed as if she was deep in thought. I took the chance to steal another look at her. To ask myself who she really was.
A cipher. A lockbox.