She’s not asleep. I knew it was impossible, but I sensed it. I could feel her eyes open, scanning the walls, pulling the drapes shut, opening them again, watchful, unable to rest, needing a story, a riddle, something to ease her into a dreamworld. I rested my hand against the door wanting to go in, knowing I shouldn’t.
What is this, Kazi?
What do you feel?
She couldn’t answer me before when I had asked. Or she wouldn’t. Maybe it was best not to know. Her loyalties were clear.
And so were mine.
I pushed away from the door and walked back to my room.
* * *
Candles glowed in red glass globes in the apse of the temple, and the heavy scent of amber hung in the air. I was the only one inside. The priests were asleep in the manse. They would find my offering in the morning. I took out my knife and nicked my thumb, squeezed it, letting the blood drip onto the plate of coins below me. A coin for every child in the city. This is only between you and the gods, Jase. Not the priests. Nor anyone else. This is your promise to protect them with your blood, just as Aaron gave with his blood to save the Remnant. Gold pleases men, but blood serves the gods, because in the end, your life is all you have to give.
The drops of blood trickled down the pile of coins and they shifted, a bare clink, echoing through the silent temple. My father’s last desperate words were ones he had heard from his own father, words every Patrei heard. I had read them in the histories and transcribed them at an early age.
The candlelight caught the glint of my gold ring. I gave it to you when it mattered. She had stepped forward willingly and helped me, and instead of thanking her, I questioned why she hadn’t given it to me sooner. Everything was more complicated now, even something as simple as gratitude.
Footsteps scuffled behind me. “You ready?”
Mason had caught me on my way out and insisted on coming with me. You lost your mind? Leaving without straza? And then he laughed. Let’s go.
He walked down the center aisle toward me and whispered, “The town will be waking soon. We should go while it’s still dark.”
We left, the streets silent, the roads dark. Halfway home he asked about Kazi. “How did you two end up being…”
He knew something had happened between us, but he stumbled with the rest of his question, as if he didn’t know how to craft it—as if he was still not quite believing it himself. He had seen her slam me up against the wall, threaten to cut me. He hadn’t taken it any better than I had.
“It was different out there,” I said. “She was different. So was I.”
“What about now?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ve never seen you like this. I know you’re not asking for advice, but I’m offering it anyway. She might have been nice to curl up with out there, but back here she’s not someone you want to get tangled up with. She can’t be trusted.”
I hated to hear him say it, but it was true. Kazi had secrets. She performed a skillful dance around everything we said. Last night I had seen genuine fear
in her eyes when she thought I had hurt her friends, but then I saw how she played us too, the fear dissolving and being replaced by something skilled and calculating. It was the same look I had seen in her face when she had studied the driver, like in her head she was constructing something solid, stone by stone. Her shrewdness managed to get reparations we didn’t owe out of the deal. Even with her letter we had no guarantee the queen would come, but there was hope and that was a short-term bandage we needed. I’d use it to my advantage for now. Soon we wouldn’t need anyone tossing us crumbs of respect. Soon we’d have a greater share of trade on the continent, and it would be the kingdoms begging for a place at the table with the Ballengers.
We reached Tor’s Watch, but before Mason left to go back to his room and catch what little sleep was left of the dark morning hours, I said, “Tomorrow when we go into town, pull Garvin from tower security and put him on her watch. She doesn’t know him, and he melts into the background. Add Yursan as a decoy too.”
Mason’s brows rose. A decoy tail, especially for someone like Garvin who was good at what he did, was a grand admission of my doubts.
I hoped Mason was wrong. I hoped I was wrong. Because I was still tangled up with her and I didn’t want to be cut loose.
Miandre is our storyteller. She tells us stories of before.
It was a world of princesses and monsters, and castles and courage. She learned the stories from her friend’s mother. Someday I will tell the stories too, but my stories will be about different monsters, the ones that visit us every day.
—Gina, 8
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
KAZI
Books were piled on the bed around me, ghosts peeking from their pages, a whisper here, there … Hold on no matter what you have to do. The Ballenger ghosts sounded as desperate as those I had known. Survive, no matter who you have to kill. Maybe more desperate.