Authors: Kelly McCullough
The stone bandage fell away from his shoulder and he began to shake in rhythm with the ground as the rich purple blood rolled down his arm from the great wound in his neck and shoulder. Somehow he held himself there as it slowly filled the indentation, rising to cover his hand and the destroyed ring.
When it began to overflow the print, Qethar closed his eyes, drew a deep breath, and rattled off a long string of the
Durkoth language, rich in
Q
’s,
Ch
’s, and
Th
’s. The only words I recognized were the two that began and ended the phrase; Kothmerk and Durkoth. As Qethar finished speaking, something seemed to go out of him and he collapsed, falling onto his side and then slumping to lie on his back within the curve of Graf’s great paws. Dead, or at least that’s what I thought.
The hand that had covered the shattered Kothmerk had fisted up as he fell, coming free of the blood-filled paw print. Before I could decide what I should do next, Qethar’s eyes fluttered open.
“It is done. Now I can die.” Qethar’s hand relaxed as life left him and there on his bloody palm lay the restored Kothmerk.
I knelt and closed the dead Durkoth’s eyes. “May the lords of judgment show you mercy.” Then I took the Kothmerk from his hand and held it up in the moonlight.
It was the first time I’d really gotten a look at the ring that had brought us so much fear and doubt, and I couldn’t help but feel that VoS’s description was a pale shadow of the reality. The moon shining through the great ruby transformed the ring into a shining eye that burned with a deep cold flame, and it no longer seemed a strange fate that such a small thing could bring so much harm to so many. Here lay a spark that could light whole kingdoms afire were it given the chance.
“But not this time,” I said aloud. Then I closed the ring tight in my fist and turned to Triss. “Now what?”
“Now you hand over the ring and the girl,” said two voices speaking in perfect unison. “Then we pay you your fee, and you’re done.”
I turned around to find VoS standing behind us, wands and rods at the ready.
Triss, tell Ssithra to get ready to shroud up. Oh, and not to hurt the Dyad.
“The ring is yours, VoS, but you’ll take the girl over my dead body.” I looked straight into Vala’s eyes. “You don’t want to do this.”
“No, I don’t,” she replied.
“But it’s not her decision,” continued VoS through her mouth. “We can’t let the girl just walk away after what she’s done.”
On my count, Triss.
I shifted the Kothmerk within my hand.
Three. Two.
Without any warning I threw the ring underhand, fast and about three feet to the left of Vala—just out of the reach of those short arms.
One.
She had to lunge forward to catch the ring, and for a brief instant both wands and eyes left me.
That was all the leeway I needed, as both Faran and I vanished into shadow. VoS was very good, turning Vala’s lunge into a cartwheel that allowed her to both catch the ring and send a blast of magic my way. It clipped the edge of my shroud as I dove forward, and Triss let out a low grunt as the magic punched a hole in his substance. Not a bad injury, but it pissed me off royally and increased my resolve for the next step.
Before Vala could get off another blast, I’d drawn my sword and bounced to my feet with my blade’s edge against Stel’s throat.
“Don’t make me kill you,” I growled. “Drop ’em.”
Stel let her rods fall to the ground and Vala her wands.
“You win this round, Blade,” said Vala.
“But only because one of my motes betrayed me,” continued VoS, through both mouths, and she sounded wholly disgusted. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you resisting me like that, Vala. You could have had him, but you let your feelings get in the way.”
“I did,” said Vala. “Because it was the right thing to do. We’ve got the ring back. That’s all that matters. That’s all that ever mattered, and it wouldn’t have happened without Aral’s help. Without the
Kingslayer’s
help. You know what relations were like between Kodamia and Zhan back when Ashvik was king. Without Aral Kingslayer acting as he did then, there’d have been a war with Zhan.” She held up the ring. “And without Aral Kingslayer acting as he did now, there would have been a war with the Durkoth.”
“Not to mention that you would have died.” Faran faded
back into view behind Vala, a long slender dagger in her hand. “Aral asked me not to harm you, but if you’d killed him I’d have sliced your throats and thrown the damn Kothmerk in the ocean.” There was no threat in her tone, but no mercy either, just a statement of fact.
“Maybe you’re right.” VoS looked at Vala through Stel’s eyes and spoke through her lips. “Maybe he did save us a war. But this girl committed a crime against Kodamia. Probably more than one, and that I can’t forget or forgive. It’s not in my nature.”
She turned both her heads toward me. “Good-bye, Aral. Here’s your fee.” She threw a heavy pouch at my feet. “Take the girl and go to hell.”
“I’m sorry,” said Vala. “I so wanted to make at least a try of it.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I said.
Then they turned and walked away.
Faran looked at me and the cold killer that had spoken a moment before seemed to fade away, replaced by the scared teenager I had briefly glimpsed earlier. “Were you and Vala really…”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe, given time. I don’t think it would have worked, but it probably would have been good for me to try.”
Her eyes slid to the ground. “I always liked VoS and her motes. They seemed a lot more human than some of the older Dyads. I’m sorry you had to fight over me.”
“That’s funny. I can’t think of anything I’d rather fight over.”
She looked up, startled. Hopeful. “I don’t understand.”
I wanted to tell her that it was because just this once, I
knew
where justice lay, but I didn’t think it would make any sense to her.
Instead I said, “Nothing’s more important than the future.” Because that was true, too, and because I could see the future, a future where Aral Kingslayer was no longer the last Blade of Namara. “And that’s what this fight was about.”
C
aptain
Fei’s private table at the Spinnerfish had space to seat ten, though it only held two at the moment. Two people anyway, and neither Triss nor Scheroc took up any space.
Fei reached out and almost touched my cheek. “I can’t get used to the new you.”
“It’s your own damn fault,” I growled.
She dropped her hand and looked down at the table. “Yeah, I know. I didn’t mean it to work out that way. The guy who was supposed to hand the poster over to the watch and make all my other arrangements was also supposed to make damn sure I was dead first.”
“Other arrangements?” I asked.
“Let’s just say you’re not the only one who’s pissed off at me. I’m going to be catching shit from his fuck up for a long time to come.”
“I hope you explained to him how much trouble he’s caused.”
“I did. I used short words and a long knife. He got the point.” She drew a thumb across her throat.
“So, what happens next time you turn up dead?”
“I haven’t worked that out yet, but I can promise it doesn’t include a wanted poster for Aral Kingslayer.”
“Good.”
“Look, Aral, I’m sorry. I fucked up big time and now I owe you double.” When I didn’t say anything, she awkwardly changed the subject. “Where’s Faran now?”
I decided to let her off the hook for now. “Damned if I know, but she’s supposed to meet us here.”
Fei raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t give me that look. You think it’s easy to suddenly inherit a teenage daughter?”
“Oh, come on. How hard can it be for the great Aral Kingslayer to keep an eye on one young girl?”
“I guess it depends on whether the girl is a Blade-trained thief and spy who survived six years on her own with a five thousand riel price on her head.”
“So she really was spying in Kodamia? For who?”
“Whoever happened to be the highest bidder of the day,” said Faran as she suddenly appeared in one of the empty seats—Fei just about jumped out of her skin, but I barely twitched. I was starting to get used to her comings and goings. “Mostly that was Thauvik, which is why I trusted him further than I should have.”
“How the hell did you get in here without either of us noticing?” demanded Fei.
“By arriving ahead of you and hiding under the table,” replied Faran, sounding more than a little disgusted. “You shouldn’t always insist that Erk give you the same table, Captain Fei. It makes things too easy.”
Triss, did you know she was here?
No, there was no Shade trail at the entrance. She must have come in quite early and unshrouded, though I’ve no idea how she could have gotten past Erk like that.
Damn but the kid is good.
“What did you mean about trusting Thauvik when you shouldn’t have?” asked Fei.
I knew the answer to that one already, but I wanted to see what Faran would tell the captain.
“After I sold Thauvik the information about the movements of the Kothmerk, he sent me a message promising a hundred thousand gold riels if I got the chance to steal the ring and bring it to him.”
Fei whistled. “That kind of money is enough to cloud anyone’s thinking. What happened?”
“I was supposed to deliver the ring to a pair of Elite on Sanjin Island in exchange for an anonymous draft from a Magelands bank.”
“The dead girl,” said Fei. “The one Zishin found those two Elite searching. You sent her in as a decoy. But I thought you said you’d trusted Thauvik too much. Am I missing something?”
“Qethar and the rest of the Durkoth,” I replied. “Thauvik had cut a separate deal with them. He figured he could have it both ways. If Faran stole the Kothmerk and brought it back here, he could destroy it and start a war between the Durkoth and Kodamia, which latter is the biggest obstacle to his ambitions. But if Qethar succeeded, the new King of the North would owe his throne to Thauvik.”
“And,” said Faran, “as a side benefit, if Qethar succeeded, the only one who knew about the other plan, namely, me, would die in the attack on the Dyad caravan. He won either way.”
“Right up until he got greedy and tried to get the ring from your decoy without having to pay the fee.” Fei looked very unhappy, and who could blame her? Thauvik was her boss again now that she’d returned to the Mufflers. “Stupid bastard.”
“More a panicked one, I think,” said Triss.
“I think I missed a step,” said Fei. “Why would Thauvik panic?”
“Because Faran, good as she is, wasn’t able to shake the Durkoth off her trail. That meant that everyone knew the Kothmerk had come south and that the loss might get wrapped around his neck instead of the Archon of Kodamia’s.”
Fei nodded. “And that could have started the wrong war.”
“Exactly.”
“So, why did Aigo destroy the ring?”
“Trying to salvage the original plan maybe,” I said. “I imagine Aigo knew he didn’t have much chance of getting away from me and Qethar both under the circumstances. With Qethar firmly in opposition to Thauvik now, he went with the surest choice. If he’d managed to kill Qethar as well, it would have worked.”
There was a long pause, then Fei spoke again. “I heard that the King of the North has been recrowned, and that a Dyad by the name of Valor of Steel was awarded Kodamia’s highest honors for service to the realm.”
I nodded. “I heard that, too.”
Another pause. “I’m sorry, Aral. I know you and Vala were…”
Fei looked into my eyes for a long moment and then stammered to a halt, while Faran did everything she could short of shrouding up to fade into the background.
A little intense there, Kingslayer. You might want to back it down a notch.
What do you mean?
The face you’re wearing now could blister paint.
Oh.
I took a deep breath and forced a smile. “It’s all right. I made the only choice I could and so did she. Sometimes that’s just the way things work. Besides”—and now I looked at Faran and my smile turned into something real—“as I’ve told Faran several times, it was the right choice, the just choice.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Triss nod his approval. I might have lost whatever I had with Vala, but I’d found a piece of myself, and that seemed a fair trade. More than fair.
No story ever ends, but we all have to leave it sometime. I left this one as I had entered it, sitting in a bar, with a glass of good Aveni whiskey in my hand. Though now I raised it in a toast.
“To things lost and things found.”