The Sharpest Blade

I try to remove Kyol’s hand from around my waist.

“There are too many humans watching,” Kyol says.

I freeze. Then, for the first time, I look at my surroundings. There are people watching me. Most of them just glance my way with you’re-crazy expressions as they cross the parking lot, headed to the coffee shop or the electronics store next door, but a few people have stopped and are openly staring. Kyol’s been holding me relatively still this whole time, but I’ve called Aren’s name at least once.

“I’ll release you,” Kyol says, “but you mustn’t draw any more attention to yourself.”

Biting my lip, I nod.

It’s hard not to rush to Aren’s side the second Kyol lets me go. But Lena’s already there. She doesn’t have to worry about the humans.

She crouches next to him.

“Where have you been?” she demands. No Hi, How are you, or Thank God you’re alive. I want to know the answer to the same question, though. I left him in the tunnel. All it would have taken was a half-hour jog to move beyond the silver wall, but it’s been three days since we lost the palace. There’s no way the false-blood’s magic kept him passed out for that long.

Aren winces when he draws in a breath to speak. “I didn’t know you were alive,” he says, staring up at the sky. “Either of you, and there was . . .” He closes his eyes, reopens them. “The false-blood put a human on display. Skinned and unrecognizable. He told his people it was the shadow-witch and . . .” His silver gaze shifts from the sky to me. “I had to confirm it was you. I took an elari’s name-cord, pretended to be one of them so I could get close.”

“It was Shane,” Kyol says. He’s standing beside me.

Aren gives a small nod.

“He’s dead now,” he says. “I kept looking for you, but I ended up finding Naito and Lee instead. They made it out of the palace and were hiding in the Inner City. I fissured them to Naito’s house this morning. I didn’t think to look for you at Nick’s until an hour ago.”

In my peripheral vision, I see a man light up a cigarette. He’s strolling this way, so I quietly say, “We should get back to Nick’s.”

Really, I just want to get Aren someplace where I can wrap my arms around him.

Kyol takes a step forward, then offers his hand to Aren. “I will fissure you there.”

Despite his injuries, Aren stiffens. I do, too, until I feel the reluctant respect that travels along the life-bond. This is the first time the three of us have been in the same place since Aren and I slept together. If Kyol were a lesser man, all he’d feel for Aren is resentment.

Aren closes his eyes. His bloodied forehead creases, and his jaw clenches. After an agonizingly long moment, he accepts Kyol’s outstretched hand.

• • •

BY the time I walk across the shopping-center parking lot, cross the street, then make my way into Nick’s neighborhood and to his front door, Aren’s passed out in Lena’s bed. Lena’s in the living room with Kyol, discussing plans and strategies for dealing with Cardak. I leave them to it and quietly slip into the guest room.

Aren still looks like hell. A bandage is wrapped around his injured arm, but that’s all that’s been done for him. His face is still bloodied.

I’m afraid I’ll wake him if I try to clean the cuts and bruises, so I just curl up in the bed beside him. He doesn’t move. Keeping the sheet between us, I risk draping my arm over his body. He’s hot, and despite the blood and sweat clinging to his skin, his cinnamon-and-cedar scent makes its way into my lungs. It should soothe me, but it doesn’t. I’m terrified I’m going to wake up and find that this is a dream. I’ve been keeping my grief at a distance so that I can function, but now, it hits me again, so much more potent than it should be since I have Aren right here with me. He’s not dead, and Naito and Lee survived. Others might have as well.

But not Sosch.

Not Trev.

Maybe not even Lorn.

I kiss the back of Aren’s neck, only long enough to feel the heat of his edarratae. They reassure me that he’s alive and here, and I let myself close my eyes.

A soft rap on the door wakes me. It feels like I’ve only slept for minutes, but when I open my eyes, the room is dark. No light is shining in through the window, so it has to be well after nine.

I look to the door, see Kynlee peeking her head in.

“Lena’s sending Kyol and Caelar to the false-blood’s camp. She said you need to name the nearest city?”

If Caelar’s here, and they’ve already discussed a plan, I’ve slept a hell of a lot longer than I thought.

Careful not to disturb Aren, I get out of bed and follow Kynlee into the main part of the house. Lord Hison and Caelar are sitting at the kitchen table across from Lena and Kyol. Nick is here, too. I slide into a chair beside him. My map, messily drawn in dirt on the pouch that held Lena’s anchor-stones, is spread out on the table, along with other maps and a few notebooks, which I’m guessing Nick loaned to the fae.

“Jythkrila,” I say, watching Caelar’s and Hison’s expressions. Recognition flashes in both of their eyes. They’ve never been there before, but seeing my map and hearing the location is as good as if they fissured there on their own.

“Do you know what we will find there?” Caelar asks.

“I’m hoping you’ll find evidence that Cardak is not Tar Sidhe as he claims to be,” Lena answers. “If we can link him to Thrain, it will give people a reason to doubt him.”

“They need reason to doubt him?” My voice is unexpectedly tight, and I’m surprised by the anger that’s pumping through my veins. I’m mad at the fae, I realize. I’m mad at every single one of them who has so much as entertained the idea that the false-blood could actually be Tar Sidhe. Wanting to rid the Realm of human influences is one thing; torturing humans and using the fae’s hatred of them to further your cause is something else entirely.

“He has an extremely rare and powerful magic,” Lord Hison says. “And he’s presenting himself as a savior. Many fae want that. That’s why the elari are growing in number.” His expression sours, and he glances at Lena. “That’s why we need you. We may have ignored certain parts of the population for too long.”

May have. Well, that’s certainly an improvement in his attitude. Hison hasn’t mentioned his wish to see the kingkiller brought to justice again. I don’t know if that’s because of the position he’s found himself in, or if it’s because he’s honoring the pledge he made to Aren at the palace. If Aren and I hadn’t stayed behind to face the elari, they would have captured or killed the high noble and his people.

“Taltrayn and Caelar are fissuring to the Jythkrila camp tonight,” Lena says. “Tomorrow, Caelar will agree to meet with the false-blood.”

Caelar raises an eyebrow. “I will?”

“When the false-blood allows you in the palace,” Lena says, “you’ll have access to the surviving high nobles. You will make our case to those you believe will be amenable to ousting Cardak.”

It’s a risky mission, as risky as any she’s ever asked Kyol to accomplish, and Caelar stiffens at the command in her voice. His jaw clenches and unclenches, but after a handful of seconds, he nods exactly the same way Kyol would.