At Any Cost (3 page)

“I was curious. I’d never seen the king before. Is he with you?”

He gave her a look that was more incredulous than threatening. “That depends on why you’re looking for him.”

She backed up a step and bumped into the opposite wall. The bright sunlight of the street was only a few paces away, but might have been on the other side of an ocean for all she could imagine escaping to it. “I’m not looking for him. Not at all.”

That half-smile again, and she felt again like that mouse, teased by a predator. “No? It seems everyone else in the country wants a piece of his attention today.”

“Why? I’ve heard he’s horrid.” The words were out of her mouth before she’d had a chance to reflect that perhaps this was not the best way to make it out of the alley alive. She clapped her fingers to her mouth as ice filled her stomach. “I didn’t mean that. I just, I’d heard…”

The soldier chuckled and crossed his arms. Maggie’s mind went blank, confused. “He can be, at times,” the soldier offered. “It might be best if you kept that opinion to yourself, though.”

The quick turn in his demeanor left her disoriented, and she pressed herself against the solid mass of the wall behind her to ground herself. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Max Stone,” he said, and offered a bow short enough that he didn’t lose sight of her. “King’s guard. And you’re lucky it was me that spotted you and not one of the others. Dirk would have had you flat on the street, brains clubbed in by now.”

She couldn’t tell whether he was joking. She forced herself to smile as though that thought were amusing. “I really didn’t mean any harm. You were just something I hadn’t seen before. Something interesting.”

“Hmm.” His lips narrowed to a tight line, and then he smiled again. “The question now is whether I believe you and release you, or whether I get some answers about why you’re in Tyrea in the first place.”

“I—” Maggie’s search for an answer was interrupted by her stomach, which let out a loud growl.

The soldier laughed, a bark that seemed to surprise him. “Don’t they feed you on that forsaken island? Is that why you came here?”

Maggie’s cheeks warmed. “I’m a little peckish, that’s all.”

He narrowed his eyes as he looked her over. “For some reason I don’t think ‘that’s all’ covers much about you, Gloria Graphook. I’ll tell you what. Let me buy you something to eat to make up for the fright I just gave you, and then you’ll be free to go.”

Maggie froze, mouth open. “You… you want to buy me lunch?”

He shrugged. “I need to eat. I’ve heard wonderful things about a roasted lamb cart just a block back, but haven’t managed to get a taste. You’ll be safer with me than wandering around this part of town alone.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“You won’t get in trouble with the king for abandoning your post?”

Max’s lips pulled tight in a held-back smile. “I think not. I’m still interrogating you. I’m just being nice about it. Call it a new approach I’m trying out.” He leaned in closer. “We’ll stay in public if it helps you feel better.”

She straightened her shoulders. “Then I accept.” There didn’t seem to be any other option. Besides, this man was intriguing, and she might learn something useful.

Maggie kept her distance as they walked. Years around people with strong magic had sensitized her to its presence, and she felt that strength in him. Magic, however he might be able to use it, gave him an unfair advantage if things went wrong, never mind his size and weapon. Familiar nervousness tightened her stomach.

At least he didn’t seem interested in carting her off to jail, and he seemed sincere enough in believing her story. She glanced up at him and found him watching. She looked away, but caught his smile at her attention.

He offered his arm, and she tentatively placed a hand on it.
It’s only polite,
she told herself, ignoring the fact that a part of her felt drawn to him for reasons other than keeping out of trouble.

He didn’t take hold of her. She could have run. Instead, she let this strange man lead her down the street. She ignored the furtive glances of passersby. She did feel safer with him than she had on her own, now that it seemed he didn’t intend to do her harm. She glanced up again. Max’s eyes stayed on the street ahead, alert to everything going on around them. She ignored the warmth that filled her at the feel of his muscled forearm beneath the dashing uniform.

This is foolish,
she thought, as he led her away from the market.

M
ax wiped
his fingers on the thin paper their food—richly spiced lamb wrapped in flat bread—had come wrapped in, then tucked the litter into his pocket. Not a drop of grease had hit the front of his uniform. As Maggie watched, she realized that nothing about this man fit with what she expected from the king’s bodyguards—the elegant movements of his hands, the lack of battle scars that the others wore so well, the ease with which he’d let go of the idea that she might be a threat.

If only she knew what to make of that.

They had moved away from the crowds, away from the smell of food and the noise of the streets, toward the edge of a wide river. Max leaned against the waist-high wall and watched a barge go past. “Did you like it?” he asked.

“It’s incredible,” she said. “I’m not used to food that rich. Is that usual for Tyrea?”

He glanced at her and then over his shoulder before returning his attention to the river. “That vendor isn’t from here. You see more people like him—people from elsewhere selling their wares—closer to Luid. Our capital city, you know.”

“What’s it like there?”

A shadow passed over his features. “It’s a beautiful city. The people are cultured, many of them intelligent or gifted. Some are both. The nobility can be a handful. Spoiled and useless, the lot of them.”

Maggie leaned against the wall and watched the gulls riding the air currents overhead. She wanted to look at Max again, to read his face as he spoke, but felt shy every time he caught her watching him. “Do you have to deal with them much? The nobility?”

“All the time.”

“Do you like your job?”

He turned fully toward her, and she couldn’t help looking up into the amused slant of his eyes. “You’re a terrible spy. You’re supposed to ask about the king’s whereabouts, our weaknesses, our nefarious plans for your beautiful island.”

“Are there any?”

He shook his head. “Not that you should worry about. My point is that the expected path of this conversation isn’t concerned with whether a nothing-to-nobody soldier’s career pleases him.”

“I don’t give a fig about kings, personally,” she said, and grinned when he snorted. “What? They have nothing to do with people like me. Give me regular people changing the world, that’s what I want to hear about. What I want to be, at least.”

“Which sounds so unlike the nobility we just discussed,” he mused. “Are you sure you’re a regular person, Gloria?”

Is he flirting with me?
She decided she wasn’t flattered if he was. Not even if he was handsome, charming, and seemed to like her, even without magic or mention of her father.
Doesn’t make me feel good at all. Not one bit.

“I’m as regular as they come, I’m afraid,” she said. “You’re not though, are you?”

“Not entirely. I have some magic.”

His attention and her own anonymity made her bold. “Show me, then. Impress me.”

His brows pulled together. “Be careful what you ask of a stranger. There are people here who would impress you with skills you’d rather not experience.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“You should be.” He said it without menace, but she flinched as he lifted a hand.

The air around them brightened and shimmered.

“That didn’t hurt,” she said. “It’s lovely.”

He shrugged as the light dimmed. “Not all that unique a skill, but useful. It’s more impressive in the dark.”

The idea of retreating to a dark place with Max and being impressed by him sent her thoughts wandering and her cheeks warming. If Max noticed, he didn’t comment on it. Maggie turned to walk along the river, and he fell in beside her.

It seemed strange that she should feel so comfortable with him, a man who was not only a magic-user, but an enemy soldier. And yet she found herself relaxing. She grounded her mind, running through historical dates and facts and figures, and found her mental focus was unclouded. Her father had taught her that trick, a way to make sure no one was using magic to interfere with her mind. It seemed Max was what he appeared to be.

So strange.
The attraction she felt to him was unlike what she’d felt for other men who possessed magic. Though his power interested her, it was his tone, his mystery, his respectful interest that drew her in.

And those eyes.

“What of your home?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow. “Now who’s spying?”

“I didn’t claim to be good at it, myself.”

She smiled and slipped her hands into her skirt pockets, where Emalda’s coins rubbed together. She’d considered paying for her own meal, but decided Max did indeed owe her for the fright. Had she known his company would have been so pleasant she might have offered to buy her own, and his as well.

He cleared his throat. “Tell me, then. What’s it like to not have magic? To be a regular person, as you claim to be?”

“You still don’t believe me that I’m ordinary?”

He didn’t answer right away. When she glanced up, she found him watching her with an intensity that matched the glares he’d shot at her back on the main street—though this time, it wasn’t malice she saw in his eyes. Her throat tightened, but she didn’t look away.

“I don’t believe you are,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “I’m good at assessing people. That’s one of the reasons I’m successful at my job, why I’ve held it as long as I have. And in spite of the sad display I just offered you, I do have strong magic. I may not look it, but I’ve lived long enough to become bored with people as a general rule. And yet here I am, abandoning my post, strolling along the river with you. I hardly know you, yet I find your company pleasant.”

Her heart stumbled, and she tried to ignore the compliment. “You said they wouldn’t be angry that you left.”

“There’s nothing they can do about it if they are. I’m enjoying this, and that’s quite unusual for me. That makes you not at all ordinary.” He ran a hand down his face. “I should go back. My duties demand my attention, no matter how lovely the distractions may be.”

She stopped walking. “You think I’m lovely?”

He chuckled. “Lovely, and uncommonly bold. Perhaps that makes up for the lack of magic.” He turned back, and motioned for her to walk beside him again. “You can answer my question on the way, though. What’s it like to be a regular person?”

She took his arm again, walking closer than she had before. Though she didn’t understand how he could be bored with people in general, she completely sympathized with his astonishment at finding someone surprisingly interesting under these circumstances. She chanced a glance upward and wished she could be bold enough to stop him, to touch his lips and see whether they were as soft as they looked when he smiled. She wondered whether a Tyrean soldier would kiss forcefully, whether he could dance, and what it might be like to be in the arms of someone who genuinely liked her for herself.

She shook off the thought. She’d thought she was well rid of silly attractions to unavailable men, and yet here she was, desiring to throw herself into a stranger’s arms.

What is wrong with me?

“Gloria?”

“Sorry. Just thinking.” She fought to bring her thoughts back to his question. “It’s… I guess it’s just normal to be normal, if that makes any sense. I’ve met a good number of Sorcerers and Sorceresses. In some ways they don’t seem different from me, but their lives seem to be so much more. More interesting. More free, since they don’t have to worry so much about injury and illness and age. They’re more impressive. They take more risks, I think, knowing they’ll have time to outlive the consequences.”

“Or more years to endure them,” Max said quietly. “Some decisions haunt a person for a lifetime, no matter how long it is.”

“I suppose.” She’d never considered the burdens of a long life, only envied the possibilities. “Being normal feels like your life is laid out before you because there’s only so much time to do everything. Schooling can’t last forever because there’s work to be done. Foolish romantic affairs can’t go on indefinitely because one has to settle down sometime if one wants time to have a family. And love is…” She thought of the impractical romances she’d seen sparking between students at the school. Though Sorcerers and Sorceresses couldn’t produce children together, they hardly cared when they were young. They had so much time later to settle for someone less remarkable. Their love soared on brightly feathered wings while Magdalena could only wish for a hint of that freedom.

She shrugged. “Being regular is a matter of practicality, I suppose, in love and money and health and everything else. Right now I’m trying to figure all of it out. And there are expectations I’m dealing with. It’s rather complicated.”

“So jaded for someone so young,” Max said, without the condescension she was accustomed to hearing when she discussed her thoughts. His steps slowed. “Is there love in your life, Gloria?”

“No.” The word tasted bitter on her tongue, and she hurried to wash it away. “I love my friends, my family. But I don’t have—” She paused. “I think I need to give up on certain wishes in that area.”

“That’s a shame.” They were nearing the noise of the main street again, but Max kept his voice low. “If love is a thing you believe in, don’t let a shorter life stop you. Burn bright while you live. Enjoy your youth. You have more freedom than you understand.”

She wondered whether he was suggesting that he’d like to help her burn. The thought warmed her through, and she let her hair fall forward to cover the blush she felt in her cheeks.

“Do you believe in love?” she asked a few paces later, not ready to end the conversation.

“No.”

“Do you wish you did?”

His steps slowed again, and he pulled away to study her with those piercing eyes. “Why would I wish for that?”

She shrugged, feigning unconcern. “It seems like a pity to live a long life without love, and worse to live it without the hope of finding it someday.”

He frowned, though not at her. “I can’t say I wish I believed in it, or that I would want it. Love is a dangerous thing. False love is a trap, and if true love exists it’s a terrible fate. But I suppose I wish I could have something—someone—that I want, simply because it would make me happy. Not for strategy or obligation. Simply for desire. For joy. Peace.”

He looked down, clearly embarrassed.

Maggie wondered what those obligations might be, whether Max came from a noble family and whether things were as complicated for him in Tyrea as they were for her in Belleisle.

“I understand that completely,” she said softly, and let go of his arm to reach for his hand. A stupid thing to do in front of the people who walked past, but she squeezed his fingers tight in hers before releasing him. A show of sympathy, nothing more, but his touch burned through her when he didn’t quite let her go. They stood, hands barely touching, as the crowds moved around them.

She let her hand fall to her side. He looked away, as though nothing had happened.

“I can’t believe you would have trouble getting whatever you desire,” she added, and resumed walking. She bit her tongue to keep from saying more. He said he liked her unaccustomed boldness, but if she wasn’t careful, it would get her into trouble she most certainly didn’t need.

They reached the alley that led back to the market. The street was quieter now, the dark throughway empty as they passed into it. In the market beyond, the merchants were packing their wares.

Max stopped her before they reached the far side, and she turned to face him. He stepped closer and reached out to run a finger over her jawline. “And I find it hard to believe you won’t have an extraordinary life, no matter how ordinary you think yourself.”

He leaned in closer, and she braced herself against the wall behind her.

Kiss me,
she thought.
Let me burn bright, just for a moment.

He tucked her hair behind her ear, swallowed hard, and stepped back. “You can find your way back to where you came from?”

“I—yes. Thank you.” Her stomach fluttered. “For everything. The meal. The conversation. Not having me hung as a spy.”

He smiled, but there was no happiness in it. “A terrible spy, don’t forget.”

“I promise I won’t work on that. Should we meet again, I’ll try to seem even less interested. By the king, I mean.”

“Probably a good idea. Take care, Gloria Graphook.”

“You as well, Max Stone.”

And then he was gone. Maggie sank against the support of the wall until her knees felt capable of supporting her. No kiss, but the way he’d looked at her, the touch of his hand…

Maybe it’s not too late to find someone like that. Maybe I am worth the attention of a good man all on my own, aside from my family and my potential.

Thank you, Max.

She sent a quick prayer to the spirits of her homeland asking them to watch over him, and hurried back to find Emalda.