What Matters Most (10 page)

"Raslin," Kyros started, still looking confused, as though he couldn't figure out why Raslin cared. Raslin couldn't deal with it.

Shoving his hand back into his pocket, Raslin turned and stalked away, ignoring it when Kyros tried to grab his attention.

Raslin headed back to the house. He half expected Kyros to catch up with him, to stop him, but Kyros did neither. Raslin glanced back once, when he reached a turn in the path, but Kyros was still standing in the square, lit by the bonfire and surrounded by falling snow. Raslin turned away with a scowl and quashed the urge to go back. There was no point.

*~*~*

The snow was still falling, thick heavy flakes that buried everything with a pristine white coating. It had nearly snowed them into Ailynn's house, had put out the Solstice bonfire, and worst of all, made the roads impassable. The bonfire had been restarted—more firewood had been fetched to keep it burning against the snowfall, and the festival was in full swing.

The snow that was blanketing the square did nothing to muffle the noise of the music and laughter that filled the village.

The festival was the highlight of the winter; between the dancing, the food, and the alcohol, it was hard not to be cheerful. The snow had been cleared from a section of the square to make an area for dancing, but between the dancing and the snowfall, the area had turned into a slush pit. It wasn't stopping anyone from joining in, and normally Raslin would be right there with everyone else.

Raslin couldn't manage his usual cheer, however. He kept his distance, nursing a flask of MacRaflin's moonshine—stronger than the ale or wine offered—and watched the rest of the village celebrate. He was also watching Kyros and his compatriots. They weren't friends, not in any manner that Raslin would label their relationship as such. Jallen and Ambry were friendly enough—to Kyros, at least, as Ambry seemed to have something against Raslin—but they treated Kyros with a deference that was a little unnerving.

They didn't seem to be enjoying themselves, but Raslin couldn't blame them. They should have been gone two days previously, but the snow had completely ruined that plan. Raslin had avoided Kyros as much as possible since their argument in the square, but it was impossible to miss Kyros' tension.

Sighing, Raslin took a long swig from his flask. The moonshine burned caustically down his throat, but Raslin enjoyed the distraction of the pain. Clearing his throat against the burn, Raslin debated finding a partner and distracting himself with a bit of dancing.

Maybe after some more drinking, Raslin decided, and took another swallow of the alcohol. The tips of his fingers tingled as the alcohol warmed him from the inside. His cheeks were burning, and Raslin smiled a little, brushing the snow off his hair as he watched the dancers throw themselves around to the fast-paced song the musicians were playing.

"Hey."

Raslin jumped. When had Kyros approached? He hadn't been that lost in thought, had he? Glancing over to where Kyros had been sitting near the bonfire, Raslin frowned to see that Kyros, Jallen, and Ambry were no longer there either.

"Enjoying the festival?" Raslin asked, the words slipping off his tongue with a cynical tone. Kyros shrugged, impatiently pushing his hair out of his face as he looked at Raslin. His face was flushed with cold or wine, and his eyes were brighter than normal, though that could have entirely been Raslin having too much moonshine. Reminded of the flask in his hand, Raslin took a swallow and offered it to Kyros.

"Not really," Kyros said, accepting the flask and taking a swallow. He coughed once, his eyes widening in surprise. Raslin grinned, taking the flask back when Kyros handed it to him.

Kyros leaned against the house behind them, for all intents and purposes watching the dancers like Raslin had.

Raslin settled back as well. Kyros had come to him; Raslin wasn't going to pry out of him what it was that Kyros wanted.

Raslin drank from the flask, occasionally sneaking glances at Kyros out of the corner of his eye. He tried to pass the flask again, but Kyros didn't take it again, apparently satisfied with the single drink he'd taken from it.

"Did you really mean what you said?" Kyros asked quietly.

Raslin could barely hear him over the music. Ailynn was dancing with MacRaflin, Raslin noted, as he tried to process what Kyros was talking about.

"What did I say?" Raslin asked, frowning as he finished the rest of the moonshine in the flask.

"About losing the two people you cared most about," Kyros said after a moment's hesitation, as though he still didn't understand it.

"Yeah," Raslin said, shrugging. "Why else would I have said it?"

"Good point," Kyros said, and Raslin glanced at him to see a whisper of a smile disappearing from his face. "Can … can we talk?"

"We are talking," Raslin said. What more was there to talk about? As soon as the snow stopped long enough, Ailynn and Kyros would be gone.

"Somewhere quieter," Kyros said, glancing around the square. It was noisy with the music and all the villagers talking and laughing, most of them loud from too much wine or ale.

"The ruins?" Raslin suggested. It had always been the place where they'd run away to hide when they were younger. He also really didn't want to go back to Ailynn's house and be reminded yet again that he'd soon be all alone.

Kyros nodded, another smile flashing across his face before he pushed away from the wall. Raslin followed, gallantly ignoring that he was swaying a little. He was only tipsy, he reasoned, then glanced back down at the flask in his hand.

"I need to give this back to MacRaflin," Raslin said, waving the empty flask. "I'll catch up."

Kyros nodded, pushing his hair out of his face again. Raslin watched as Kyros headed out of the square, towards the path that would take him through the village and out towards the ruins. Then he moved towards MacRaflin, who was leading Ailynn out of the dance area, towards the tables set up near the bonfire with food.

"Thanks for the loan," Raslin said, passing the flask to MacRaflin and flashing a smile at Ailynn. MacRaflin raised his eyebrows in surprise, shaking the empty flask. Raslin grinned and waved farewell, stepping away to head after Kyros. The snow was starting to taper off, Raslin noted sadly as he left the square, snagging a lantern on his way. It was easy to follow Kyros' tracks, and Raslin tried to walk quickly so he could catch up.

What did Kyros want to talk about? Raslin's heart sped up as he considered the possibilities. Nothing he could think of made sense, especially in light of Kyros' cryptic question on whether Raslin had meant what he'd said.

Raslin didn't catch up to Kyros before he left the village.

Kyros must have been walking pretty quickly, Raslin thought, pausing as he rounded the last turn in the path towards the ruins. They were ablaze with light, more so than could be accounted for by a single lantern. Raslin briefly thought that Kyros was playing with his magic again, but then he saw the horses and men surrounding the ruins.

The men were uniformed, and Raslin's heart sank. Wasn't the snow was supposed to keep them away? Why were they out here and not at the village? It didn't matter how they were there, Raslin thought, clumsily shuttering the lantern he held so that no light spilled from it. Raslin could see Kyros in the center of the ruins, speaking to one of the uniformed men.

It was impossible to tell what they were talking about, but Raslin doubted it was anything good. They were far enough away that Raslin couldn't see the expressions on their faces, but the tension in both men's stances was apparent. Raslin hesitated, unsure what to do. His first instinct was to go rushing in… but he'd probably be easily caught, especially with the moonshine he'd drunk. Raslin curled his hands into fists, ignoring the pain when the lantern handle bit painfully into his right hand.

Kyros glanced back then, towards the village, and Raslin had no idea if he was visible or not from his position. No, he decided, his heart beating faster as the uniformed man suddenly looked in his direction. There was no shouted order or rush to chase him. Raslin had no idea what to do, paralyzed by indecision. Ailynn needed to know, needed to leave, and he needed to give the puzzle box to Jallen and Ambry … but he couldn't just leave Kyros.

Suddenly, light flared, surrounding the ruins with a wall of blue flame that stretched far above Raslin's head, as though reaching for the clouds above. Raslin stumbled back, startled and scared. Gripping the lantern more tightly, Raslin turned away, trying his best to ignore how his stomach flipped. Kyros was smart and he was resourceful. He'd get away. There was nothing he could do for Kyros, not if there was magic involved.

The only thing Raslin could do for him was to get his mother to safety, like he'd promised.

Extinguishing the lantern, Raslin tucked it behind a nearby tree and took off running back towards the village, going as fast as he could in the slippery snow. It took him far too long to get back to the village, and even longer to get back to the square.

The festival was still in full swing, with no sign of the confrontation at the ruins, not even a glow of light from the blue flames.

Raslin didn't know what that meant, and he was afraid of the answer. Searching the crowd quickly, Raslin stifled his frustration when he couldn't find Ailynn, Jallen, or Ambry anywhere. A quick query of Theri turned up that Ailynn hadn't been feeling well and had headed back home for the evening.

Thanking Theri and ignoring her question on whether he was all right, Raslin took off again, heading through the town to Ailynn's house. He slowed as he neared it, trying to catch his breath. The carriage was out front, already hooked up to Jallen and Ambry's horses, and Raslin stumbled to a stop, confused.

"There you are," Ailynn said, stumbling out of the house.

Ambry took her bag and scrambled up on top of the carriage to secure it. "Ras—"

"Are you all right?" Raslin asked, feeling unsteady as Ailynn embraced him, holding him tightly.

"They said we have to go now," Ailynn said, her face creased with worry. "That the men chasing Kyros are here, but they won't tell me if he's okay—"

"He is," Raslin said, refusing to believe anything else. "It'll be all right, Ailynn. Don't worry about Kyros."

"Did you see him?" Jallen asked, swinging himself up into the driver's bench of the carriage.

"Yes," Raslin said, and quickly related what he'd seen, downplaying the import of the confrontation for Ailynn's sake.

"If you knew they were here, why didn't you warn him?"

"I couldn't find him," Jallen said, frowning briefly. "Did they see you?"

"I don't think so." Raslin shook his head, wondering if, by suggesting the ruins, he'd inadvertently led Kyros right into a trap. If they'd gone back to Ailynn's house, Kyros might have at least been warned.

"They'll have seen his tracks," Ambry said. "Why are we wasting time? We need to go!"

"Wait," Raslin said, remembering the puzzle box. "Kyros gave me something to give to you."

"Get it," Ambry ordered, glancing around as though he expected to be surrounded at any moment.

Raslin nodded and dashed into the house. He left the front door open behind him, climbing the ladder to the loft with reckless abandon, somewhat surprised when he didn't crash back down to the floor in his haste. Retrieving the puzzle box, Raslin stumbled back down the ladder and back outside. Ailynn was already settled into the carriage and Jallen and Ambry were ready to leave.

"There's a trick to it—" Raslin began, holding the box up towards Ambry.

"Get in," Ambry cut him off. "You can show us later."

"But—"

"In," Ambry said, scowling. "We don't have time to argue, and they'll know you warned Ailynn. We're leaving with too much haste for that stupid cover story to be believed. Get in."

"Right." Raslin did as he was directed. He had none of his things, but there was no time to worry about that. Raslin shut the door and settled into the seat next to Ailynn. As the carriage jerked into motion, Raslin curled an arm around Ailynn's shoulders, holding her close, and tried not to think about whether they'd be caught, what would happen to Kyros now, if he'd done the right thing, and what Kyros had wanted to tell him at the ruins.

*~*~*

Mykon was much larger than Ourenville; it was large enough to classify as a small city, in Raslin's opinion. He and Ailynn had been settled in Mykon for six months. It was a port town, and it had been easy for Raslin to find work at the docks, slinging merchandise from ships to warehouses along the seafront. But it still didn't feel like home Ailynn missed Ourenville, but it hadn't taken her long to become friendly with the neighbors, especially the women who lived in the house adjacent to theirs. They had a nice little cottage, Raslin thought, studying the front as he made his way up the walkway. It was in good repair, bigger but more closed off, with actual rooms instead of the large, open area the cottage in Ourenville had boasted.

It was also impersonal and there was none of the history of the homes he'd lived in back in Ourenville. He didn't want to return to Ourenville, though; he didn't want to be reminded of Kyros and everything that home was supposed to mean, but wouldn't in Ourenville.

He also wasn't about to leave Ailynn alone, not after the news they'd gotten soon after they'd arrived.

Kyros had been captured that night in Ourenville and dragged back to Alesdor. Raslin didn't know the specifics of what had happened after that, but at some point after Kyros had been dragged back to Alesdor, there had been a trial—a farce of a trial, Raslin didn't doubt—and Kyros had been sentenced to be hanged from the neck until dead. Mykon was large enough to keep somewhat up to date on news from the capital; Kyros' wanted poster had been taken down, and the constable hadn't had any more details than that.

It still hurt, two months later, thinking that Kyros had been dead for months. Raslin couldn't keep himself from wondering whether, if he'd done something differently that night, it would have ended differently. He constantly wondered what Kyros had wanted to tell him. He'd come up with dozens of ideas, but none of them made sense.