“Ah, shit,” he said. “You’re Hu Gibbet’s apprentice, Vi. Viridiana, Vi, how’d I miss it?”
She smiled joylessly. “Who’re you working for? The prince was my deader.”
“Seriously. How embarrassing. To be taken in by another wetboy. Hmm. Or are you a wetgirl?”
“Not the way you’re hoping.” She ground her hips against him and he blushed.
She pinched his cheek. “You aren’t too ugly, you know. It’ll be a shame to kill you.”
“The shame’s all mine, I assure you.”
“Don’t feel bad,” she said. “Part of my Talent is a glamour. It’s to your credit you weren’t actually drooling.”
“You mean those are an illus—”
“Move your hands and die,” she said. “The body’s real, thanks.”
“I should say thank you, but this knife at my throat is muting my appreciation some.”
“If you’re trying to charm your way out of this, you need practice. Who’re you working for?”
“You’re working for the king,” Kylar said. “Aren’t you?”
“Backbone,” she said. “I like that.”
“Wetting myself would be awfully messy for both of us,” Kylar said. She chuckled and he smiled as charmingly as he could. “Was that better?”
“Better. I’ll give you one for effort. I took this job from the king. He was a little peeved that you killed his son. So I take his money, but I take my orders from Roth. Last chance now,” she pressed the knife a little further into his skin and he had to lean his head as far to the side as he could to keep it from cutting him.
“Maybe you can appreciate my dilemma,” Kylar said, straining his neck. “If I don’t answer, you’ll kill me painfully but it will take a while. If I do answer, you’ll kill me quickly but soon.”
“Or you can try to string this out for as long as you can and hope someone saves you. You’re smart. I suppose you’d have to be. We’ve all been curious why Blint would choose an apprentice without the Talent. I guess smart wins it.”
“You all? You’ve been taking bets on me? Wait, they say I don’t have the Talent?”
“Like they say, there are no secrets worth knowing in the Sa’kagé,” Vi said. “So you aren’t going to tell me who you were working for, are you? Probably just another one sent by Roth. When he wants a job done, he makes sure it gets done. There’s even a rumor he got Lady Jadwin to do it, but I know a wetboy’s work when I see it.”
“You’re kind of chatty, aren’t you?” Kylar said.
If he had a hand free, he would have slapped himself. Note: when attempting to buy time, do not criticize the prolixity of your captor.
Her beautiful face turned ugly for half a second, and Kylar saw the Hu Gibbet in her. Then she smiled, but Hu didn’t leave her eyes. “In the next life,” she said. “Work on that charm.”
The next feeling would be the glide of a knife, the flesh of his neck parting, warmth. Kylar’s muscles bunched with need and desperation.
There was a knock on the door. “Kylar?” the count said. Vi flinched and turned her head.
Kylar threw his head to the side and bucked, trying to throw her off. Or that’s what he told his body to do. Instead, he felt energy pouring through him like lightning on a leash. A brief euphoria, power swelling through him, well-being as if he’d been sick his entire life and now felt health for the first time. It was the Talent that Durzo had always said he had, and now it was his.
Vi flew into the air, but she held onto Kylar’s hair and one of her legs got tangled with one of his. So instead of flying off him, she flew up and then crashed back down on top him. She tried to slash him, but both of his hands were up now, and he caught both of her arms and rolled.
They fell off the bed and he landed on her. She grunted and raised a knee between his legs. It was like the sun exploding in his pants. He groaned and it was all he could do not to let go of her hands as she rolled on top of him.
“Kylar?” the count shouted through the door. “Do you have a lady in there?”
I wouldn’t call her a lady. Kylar’s stones hurt so bad, he could barely move, much less fight. “Help!”
“You’re pathetic,” she said.
He could only grunt.
She launched herself off of him. He struggled to his feet as the door burst open, but he was too slow. She was already throwing her knife at Count Drake.
The count threw himself to the side, and the knife sailed past him harmlessly. Instantly, he had a throwing knife in his own hand, but he hesitated. Vi saw his hand raised and leaped for the window.
Kylar grabbed the knife from the count’s hand and threw it as Vi disappeared through the window. He thought he saw it sink into her shoulder. He grabbed the sword that was secreted under his bed, but when he looked out the window, she was gone.
The count looked shaken. He was holding a red arrow in his other hand. “I hesitated,” he said. From anyone else, it would have been a concession of defeat, but Count Drake sounded victorious. “After all these years, I wondered, but it’s true. I really have changed. Thank you, God.”
Kylar looked at him strangely. “What are you talking about?”
“Kylar, we have to talk.”
45
I’ll be dead in a day or two, so please pay attention, Jarl,” Momma K said.
Jarl hesitated for a moment, and then sipped the ootai she’d poured him.
Damn, but the boy can be cold. But then, that was why she was having this talk with him, rather than with anyone else. “Tomorrow or the next day, Kylar or Durzo will come here and kill me,” she said. “Because I sent Kylar to kill a man he thought was Hu Gibbet, but actually was Durzo, disguised as Hu. Whichever one lived through their fight now knows that I lied, and that I betrayed them both. I know that you were once friends with Kylar, Jarl—”
“I still am.”
“Fine. I wasn’t going to ask you to avenge me. I’m ready for justice. Life from here is just a series of disappointments anyway.” Was that pity in the boy’s eyes? She thought it was, but she didn’t care. He’d understand if he lived to be this old.
“What can I do to help you, Momma K?”
“I don’t want you to help me. Things are happening fast, Jarl. Maybe too fast. Roth’s making a play at becoming Shinga. I suspect we’ll be hearing the sad news that Pon Dradin is dead any time now.”
“You’re not going to warn him? You’re just going to let Roth kill him?”
“Two reasons, Jarl. Knowing either of them could cost you your life. Are you ready to be a player on this stage?”
He scowled, actually thought about it, and then nodded.
“First, I’m going to let Pon Dradin die because I’ve been compromised. Roth blackmailed me into betraying Durzo and Kylar. I won’t share how. I’ve been humiliated enough. All that matters is that Roth owns me. I can’t oppose him in any way that he might detect or suspect or it will cost me something I value more than my life. So I’m going to die. I want you to replace me.”
“You want me to take your seat on the Nine?”