What Matters Most (2 page)

Despite all of that, Kyros was looking forward to seeing Raslin. Anticipation thrummed along his nerves, and Kyros felt oddly nervous as he crossed the yard. What if Raslin didn't remember him? What if Raslin was upset that he'd never been able to join Kyros in the capital? Kyros hesitated on the stoop, but finally made himself open the door and enter the house.

Raslin was there. He sat on a stool near the stove, describing something to Kyros' mother. His hands were moving as he spoke, aiding in his description of something or another.

He looked much the same as he had when Kyros had left; his dark hair was cut short to keep the curls manageable and his smile still lit the room and showed off the dimples in his cheeks.

He wasn't stocky and neither was he thin, but he'd always been more than strong enough to carry his own.

His smile faded when he looked up and saw Kyros. His jaw dropped open, and Kyros' stomach flipped nervously. "That's not—"

Kyros' mother laughed, clasping her hands together over her bosom. "The look on your face!"

"Oh, shush," Raslin muttered, his smile slowly creeping back. Kyros gathered the presence of mind to shut the door behind him and step fully into the house. He was suddenly conscious of how he looked, covered in road dust and generally unkempt. There was nothing to do for it, however, and Kyros resisted the urge to brush the dirt from his jacket as he moved to join them in the kitchen.

"Hey," Kyros greeted, suddenly tongue-tied. He could go up in front of the entire magic council and denounce the way they practiced magic, but he couldn't seem to find a single thing to say to Raslin.

"Hi," Raslin said, smile still in place. Kyros relaxed, his stomach settling—Raslin remembered him and wasn't upset to see him. Raslin turned back to Kyros' mother. "You could have warned me, Ailynn."

"It was more fun this way," she said, her pleased smile lighting her face. "You would have gotten all worked up until he returned, anyway, and that's annoying."

"I would not," Raslin objected, scowling. "How long are you staying?"

"A week or so," Kyros said, well aware of how strange that would seem to them. Spending three weeks on the road to get to Ourenville, then spending a scant week before returning?

That was a great deal of effort for very little point.

"You'll be staying for at least two weeks," Ailynn said sternly, leveling a frown at him. "You can't have come all this way just to miss the solstice festival."

Kyros blinked, startled. He hadn't realized it was that close to Solstice already. He'd been plenty distracted in the capital, but enough that he hadn't realized it was nearly Solstice?

Ailynn's eyes narrowed stubbornly—she would fight him on it, but Kyros couldn't afford to wait two weeks.

"We'll see," Kyros said, hoping his mother wouldn't push the issue. The solstice festival was his mother's favorite celebration. With it so soon, it would be much more difficult to convince her to leave.

"Are you that busy in Alesdor?" Raslin asked, drawing Kyros' attention. "Surely they wouldn't miss you for an extra week. You could always plead travelling woes. It should snow any day now, and that would keep even the most determined travelers off the road."

"Besides which," Ailynn said crisply, her mouth tightening at the corners. She was angry, and Kyros wished he could agree.

"You haven't been home for Solstice in five years. I think you could stay a few extra days in order to spend the holiday with us."

"I really shouldn't," Kyros said, slowly, trying to come up with a way to say no. Nothing came to him, however, and he finally said, "All right, I'll stay the extra week." He could rescind that once he explained to his mother how dangerous it was for them there.

He also had to figure out what to do about Raslin. It had been one thing to leave Raslin in the dark when he was just an old friend; it was another altogether now that he lived with Ailynn. He couldn't leave Raslin to face the council's authorities with no warning, but Raslin couldn't know too much, for his own safety. Kyros pushed the thoughts away for the moment.

He'd sort it out later, when he didn't have the distraction of Raslin and his mother. Raslin was watching him curiously, and Kyros forced a smile as though he was excited about spending Solstice in Ourenville.

"Good," Ailynn said, stepping past him towards the pantry.

"Ras, be a dear and set the table?"

"Of course," Raslin said, standing up. He nudged the stool closer to the table, which was free of the floury mess that had covered it when Kyros had gone to settle his horse. Kyros watched Raslin, mentally chiding himself to get his act together.

He couldn't afford to have Raslin realize that there was something going on other than Kyros just coming home for a visit with his family and friends.

"Kyros." Ailynn bustled out of the pantry with a few dried apples. "Don't just stand there, lend a hand."

"Yes, ma'am," Kyros said, a genuine smile turning his lips.

He stepped forward and took the apples from his mother's hands. She pressed a kiss to his cheek before he could turn away.

"I'm glad you're home, Kyros," Ailynn said, pressing her hand briefly to his arm before stepping back.

"I'm glad to be home," Kyros said. It was true, even if it was going to cause his mother a lot of misery. She'd be safe though, and hopefully she wouldn't hate him for uprooting her life.

Raslin was setting out wooden bowls around the table, as well as smooth wooden cups. They looked new, with few scars and chips, and Kyros wondered if his mother had bought them or if Raslin had made them. Raslin had always been good with his hands—he'd wanted to be a scribe, before his mother fell ill—and Kyros didn't doubt he'd only gotten better in the last five years.

Within a few minutes, Ailynn had served up a thick porridge and Raslin had poured them all a very fruity smelling wine.

Kyros felt a sudden surge of nostalgia as he sat at the table to eat. It wasn't quite the same as when he'd been young—his father had been around then, for one—but he couldn't count the number of times he and Raslin had piled in from a morning of playing or chores and settled around the table. Even the wine smelled familiar, and Kyros wished for a moment he could go back and make the decision to stay in Ourenville, to not go to Alesdor.

Kyros picked up the cup and took a sip. The wine was bitter under the sweetness, rough as he swallowed. "Heccat is still making the wine?"

"No one wants to break his heart by taking it over," Ailynn said as Raslin laughed. She shot Raslin a disapproving look that he blithely ignored, taking a bite of his apple. "He's teaching his daughter and her husband how to do it, so we might see something new in a few years."

"And give up this masterpiece?" Kyros asked, taking another swallow. It still burned rough and bitter down his throat, but he enjoyed it. It was a nice change from the overly dry wines that were all anyone in Alesdor seemed to serve.

Raslin snorted and changed the subject. "What's Alesdor like?"

Kyros stalled for time, taking a bite of the porridge and considering his answer. He couldn't go into detail about the politics … but there was plenty else about city life that he could talk about without endangering anyone.

"It smells," Kyros said, grinning when that got a laugh out of Raslin. Ailynn rolled her eyes. "It's very loud as well, much louder than anywhere I've ever been. I don't think the city is ever quiet for more than an hour or two at night."

"What do people do out that late?" Ailynn asked, furrowing her brow. "Surely they need to sleep, too?"

"Some of the guards' trainings happen at night," Kyros said, shrugging. "The markets also stay open late to accommodate people like the guards and other merchants who can't shop during the day." They also stayed open because most of the goods sold at night weren't suitable for daylight hours.

"Ah." Ailynn was apparently satisfied with that explanation.

"Are you renting a room out there? Or are you staying at the school? You never did specify where you were living. Do you need money?"

"No, I don't need money," Kyros said, smiling despite himself. Ailynn didn't have money to spare him, even if he did need it. "I live in the collegiate buildings and I get a stipend for living expenses from the college."

He was lucky he'd managed to save a good portion of it, unlike most of his fellow students and instructors. He'd tried most of the city's various forms of entertainment at one point or another—gambling, whores, drugs—but none of it had held his interest. He was more interested in learning, which was yet another thing that set him apart from his so-called peers.

"What's that like?" Raslin asked. "Is it crowded?"

"Not so bad," Kyros said, shrugging. "I don't have to share the rooms, but they're nothing special. If I'm there for another five years, I'll get a nicer set of rooms. It's noisy there, too; the markets are right down the road."

"Have you met the king?" Ailynn asked teasingly, and Kyros managed to not drop his cup of wine. "Or the princess?"

"I'm a lowly assistant mage," Kyros said lightly, trying to match her teasing tone. "I think I saw the princess' procession once, from the top of the collegiate buildings during a lesson."

"I suppose that means you won't be marrying into the royal family and becoming a prince," Ailynn said wistfully, quirking a smile at him. "My dreams of being whisked away to the royal palace are crushed."

Kyros laughed, shaking his head. "No, she's engaged to one of the dukes from the southern province. I never stood a chance."

"So how is your schooling going?" Ailynn asked, changing the subject. "You weren't very forthcoming in your letters about it."

"There's not much to tell. I'm into the higher level courses now, and I also help teach the younger students the basic lessons." He was going to screw up soon, Kyros thought, and accidentally say something in past tense rather than speaking like he was actually going back. Glancing at Raslin, Kyros stifled the feeling of unease that swelled up. Raslin was watching him with a pensive look on his face, and though he smiled when Kyros met his eyes, it was a distracted smile.

Ailynn harrumphed, making Kyros smile at the familiarity of the noise. He turned back to his mother, adding, "I could tell you more, but it would probably bore you."

"Nonsense," Ailynn said. "I haven't seen you in years, and now you think you're going to get out of telling me what you've been up to?"

"Fine, fine, but remember you asked for it," Kyros said. He paused to gather his thoughts before deciding a description of the way classes were done was in order, followed by the technical details of how magic was cast. He didn't have to go into detail on what it took to get from one level of schooling to the next, or the politics that clouded the whole process and the way the high-level, fully certified mages treated anyone they deemed unimportant—namely anyone without magic or a noble title.

It took the better part of an hour to answer all of Ailynn's questions. Kyros was careful to not mention anything that would even hint at the trouble he was running from, though it occasionally took some fast thinking. Raslin was quiet through most of the meal, which was unnerving, but Kyros refused to read anything into it. Raslin could be tired, could be wishing Kyros hadn't come by, could be bored, could be anything.

Finally, Ailynn was satisfied, though Kyros didn't doubt she'd have more questions for him before the end of the day.

"Raslin was going to spend the afternoon patching some of the leaks in the roof, Kyros," Ailynn said as she collected the dishes. "If you're not too tired from the trip, you could join him.

Two hands would make the work go more quickly."

"I can manage by myself," Raslin said, showing off his dimples briefly. "So don't feel obligated to help. Though, I don't know how much rest you'll get with me banging around on the roof."

"I can help," Kyros said, shrugging. "I got a good night's rest last night." Untrue, but Kyros didn't want to give up the chance to spend time with Raslin.

"All right." Raslin stood, giving Ailynn a smile before adding, "I promise I won't fall off the roof this time."

"You had better not," Ailynn scolded. "I know your head is thick, but you will end up breaking it open if you fall on it too much."

"I'll be careful," Raslin promised, heading towards the door.

"The shingles and the ladder are out back. I'll grab those if you want to get the tools?"

Kyros nodded his agreement, and detoured briefly into the chest by the fireplace. The tools were still kept there, and Kyros collected a hammer and the bag of nails tucked into one of the corners of the chest. Then he headed outside, squinting into the bright afternoon sunlight. It was still cold out, and Kyros debated briefly returning to the house for his jacket, but ultimately decided against it. He and Raslin should be moving enough to offset the cold.

Raslin came around the side of the house carrying a rickety-looking ladder under one arm and a small stack of shingles under the other. He set the shingles on the ground, then propped the ladder up against the side of the house.

"I can see why you've fallen before." Kyros eyed the ladder warily. It didn't look like it could hold a person's weight for longer than the three seconds it would take for a rung to break through.

"The ladder's good. It's the roof that's the problem," Raslin said, looking up at the roof. "It had just started raining when I fell last time."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that today," Kyros said, then gave the ladder another assessing look. "You're going up that first."

Raslin laughed, but obligingly picked up the shingles and started climbing. Kyros watched him closely—entirely so he could see which rungs were the weakest and not at all so he could get a better view of Raslin's ass—then followed him up to the rooftop. The ladder held, as did the roof. The angle of the roof made walking difficult, but Kyros managed to keep his balance as he crossed the roof to where Raslin was inspecting a few rotted shingles.

"It doesn't look like it's spread very far," Kyros observed, kneeling down near the shingles in question.