Daughter of Dusk (41 page)

Havel told her he wasn’t sure what trajectory her recovery would take. “Your bones were crushed severely, and you’re of mixed blood,” he said. “The pain will lessen
with time, but I don’t know how far the healing will go. It may never return to the way it was before. You have to be prepared for that.”

It was the uncertainty that scared her. Not knowing how the future would look, whether she’d be able to climb or run. But Kyra also remembered that she was alive, when Pashla and two
others had died for a plan that she’d proposed. It wasn’t an easy thing to forget. Every conversation with Havel reminded her of Pashla, and how the clanswoman had also nursed Kyra back
to health not long ago.

Two weeks after the big battle, Kyra accepted Malikel’s invitation, and Tristam brought a cart to convey her to the Palace. It felt strange to be sitting up straight in the back of a
wagon, rather than being smuggled under a blanket, as she had done so many times before. Tristam wore plain clothes as he drove, and though she got some curious looks, nobody made a noticeable
commotion about recognizing her.

Once they reached the Palace though, things were different. The gate guards looked on her with thinly disguised fear, and Red Shields within sight kept their hands close to their weapons.
Tristam stopped the cart near Malikel’s building and offered her an arm. Kyra did her best to walk with her chin up the rest of the way.

Malikel looked older than Kyra remembered, or perhaps it was just the circles under his eyes. Kyra thought she saw more gray in his beard as well, but that was impossible in just a few days,
wasn’t it? The new Head Councilman thanked Tristam and dismissed him, then motioned for Kyra to sit down across from him at his desk.

“The city thanks you for your role in breaking the Edlan siege,” he said, folding his hands in front of him. “Without your help, many more would have suffered.”

“I heard about the Council vote,” said Kyra. “I’m glad you’ve taken over Willem’s position.”

“Thank you. Though I’m guessing you’ve gathered by now that I’ve not summoned you here to exchange pleasantries.”

“No, I suppose not,” said Kyra. Had it been any other man who’d invited her back, she might have suspected a trap. But she believed Malikel honorable.

“I won’t mince words, Kyra. You’ve always been a challenge as far as our laws are concerned. You’ve committed considerable transgressions, yet at the same time,
you’ve performed great services for the city. You’re responsible for the death of Santon of Agan and the assassin James. You also wounded many men, including Dalton of Agan and several
Red Shields at James’s execution. The Council could not simply pardon those crimes, even with your services to the city. Perhaps if you had an other­wise blameless record, but
you’ve already been pardoned for one murder, and now that the truth of your bloodlines is known…I’m afraid it’s impossible.”

Kyra bowed her head at the mention of the murder she’d already been pardoned for, the manservant she’d accidentally killed when she worked for James. Of all she’d ever done, it
was the one thing Kyra wished most she could undo, and she suspected it would haunt her for the rest of her life. “Does your promise of safe passage still stand, then?”

Malikel looked her over with an appraising eye. “I assure you, I have no desire to drag you into our dungeons. Nor would I want to take the losses in soldiers and guards should I attempt
to do so. My promise of safe passage is sincere.”

She waited. There was more. She knew there was more.

Malikel met her eye. “It brings me no joy to do this, but the Council has voted to exile you from Forge. You’ll be conveyed out of this city, but after this, you will only be allowed
within the city’s walls under strict guard.”

It took a moment for Malikel’s words to sink in. And then she stared at him in disbelief. “You’re exiling me from Forge? If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have a
city to exile me from.”

“I know Kyra, and I’m sorry—”

She interrupted him angrily. “You’re sorry, but you’re bound by the decisions of the Council. Just as you were when the magistrate pardoned Santon for beating my sister to near
death. This in’t about the law, is it? It’s about how the Council won’t trust a halfblood Makvani in their city.”
Not just any halfblood Makvani
, said a traitorous
voice in her head.
A halfblood who
’
s killed three men and thrown the city into chaos more than once.
She still thought the Council’s decision was motivated by fear,
but she couldn’t deny that the case against her was substantial.

She collapsed back into her chair. “So nothing’s changed,” she said. “I’m still a criminal. The Council makes its decisions, and the city continues as before.
Somehow I’d thought, with Willem gone and you in his place…”

Malikel pushed a piece of parchment across the table. Kyra had half a mind to throw it back at him, but she grudgingly looked it over. It was a Palace document, from one of the city magistrates.
Something about a trial to be planned. And the accused was named…

“Douglass and Dalton of Agan will be tried for assaulting Idalee,” said Malikel. “The magistrate conducted a further investigation into the case and determined that the initial
ruling was unduly influenced by political factors. In addition, other victims have come forth with complaints against the brothers, and the magistrate is investigating them all.

“The Agan brothers will not be the only ones investigated. Others who enjoyed immunity under Willem are being held accountable as well. It will be a busy season for the magistrates.”
Malikel waited for Kyra to finish looking over the parchment. “Things are changing, Kyra. Though they progress slowly, in fits and starts. You’re not the first to find this frustrating.
My predecessor in this position found it so as well, and in fact engineered a plan to change our system of government.” Malikel’s lips twitched in the slightest of smiles. “I
heard that the plan did not go well for him.”

Though Kyra couldn’t bring herself to smile back, she couldn’t deny the irony. “It’s funny,” she said. “Remember the conversation we had, about serving the
city even though not everyone within it would care to have us? What I did to break the siege, I did because I’d finally decided I agreed with you.”

“And you can still serve the city, if you wish,” said Malikel. “Which brings me to the last thing I wanted to discuss with you. I’m ready to follow through on the
promises we made to the Makvani and discuss peace.”

That, at least, was good news. “I can convey your message to Leyus.”

“Thank you,” said Malikel. “Given the times that lie ahead, I see the need for a go-between for our two peoples. An emissary, of sorts, and preferably someone who is familiar
with both societies.” He glanced significantly at Kyra.

She bristled. “And you would like me to do this? Why should I?”

“There’s no reason why you should. I won’t try to convince you that you owe it to the city or create some other sense of false responsibility. You owe Forge nothing, but you
can do some good if you want to. The choice is yours.”

Kyra gazed across the desk at him. It was tempting to throw a refusal in his face, but the less hotheaded part of her urged her to pause. The thought of peace between Forge and the
Makvani—cooperation, even—was a good one.

“I’ll think on it,” said Kyra.

“That’s all we can ask,” said Malikel.

When Tristam came to convey her back out of the city, she could tell he was curious about what had transpired.

“Malikel didn’t tell you why he called me in?” said Kyra.

“No,” said Tristam. “He didn’t share anything.”

She supposed it was no big secret. Tristam would find out about her exile soon enough. “Let’s leave the Palace first, and then I’ll tell you.”

He helped Kyra into the wagon. As he walked to the front, Kyra called to him. “Tristam.”

He turned.

“Do you mind if we take a different route out of the city this time?”

“I suppose,” he said, looking slightly perplexed. “How would you like to go?”

She let out a slow breath as the full implications of the Council’s sentence finally hit her. “Bring the wagon by the southwest quadrant. I’d like to see The Drunken
Dog.”

E P I L O G U E

K
yra accepted Malikel’s offer to act as emissary between the Makvani and Forge. Sometimes the Head Councilman met with her outside the city.
Other times, a contingent of Red Shields escorted her from the gate to the Palace. Her first job was to arrange a meeting to begin peace negotiations, and after a few proposals and
counterproposals, the leaders agreed to meet on a patch of farmland bordering the forest.

Each group brought a contingent of five. Leyus, Havel, Zora, Adele, and Mela formed the Makvani contingent, while Malikel brought Tristam and three members of the Council. Kyra was there as
well, the only person present who was not affiliated with either party. She arrived first and watched nervously as the two groups came to the meeting place, then held her breath as Malikel and
Leyus shook hands. The Forge contingent set up a tent for shelter, and the Makvani provided deer hides to sit on. Kyra noticed Adele glancing over her shoulder toward the forest before stepping
into the tent. When Kyra followed her gaze, she saw Flick watching from the trees. He winked at Kyra when he saw her looking, and the sight somehow made her more optimistic about the way things
would go.

It was a long day, and there were several tense moments, but by the end of it, the two groups had the beginnings of a peace agreement. Malikel and Leyus shook hands one more time before they
parted.

“I feel hopeful about this direction,” said Malikel. “If any concerns should arise before the next time we meet, have Kyra convey a message to the city. I trust she has been
satisfactory thus far as an emissary?”

Leyus looked at Kyra and gave the slightest of nods. “Yes,” he said. “She has done well.” Their eyes met, and just for a moment, something passed between them, a hint of
understanding between father and daughter. It wasn’t the stuff of talesinger ballads, but it gave Kyra hope. Perhaps someday she’d come to know him better, learn about his past and the
mysterious woman he’d left on the other side of the Aerins. Someday.

Kyra initially took up residence again in her cave, but she eventually found a small cottage near the forest, far enough removed from other houses that they didn’t have to worry about
fearful neighbors. Lettie and Idalee moved back in with her from Mercie’s house. Lettie took to the spot immediately, as it gave her a chance to stay near her new playmates. As spring came,
Idalee started a small garden. Though the girl enjoyed tending it, Kyra guessed that Idalee might move back to Forge when she was older. She missed the bustle of the city, as did Kyra.

As was the case with their previous quarters, Flick was still a semipermanent fixture at the cottage. These days, however, Kyra wasn’t sure if he came by their house because she, Lettie,
and Idalee were there or because it was convenient to the forest, and to Adele. The Makvani themselves didn’t build permanent houses, though they crafted large, sturdy tents that they set up
where they wished.

One morning, when Idalee and Lettie had gone to buy seeds for the garden, someone knocked on Kyra’s door. Kyra thought it was one of the Makvani, and it was a few seconds before she
recognized the human woman who greeted her. Darylene of Forge looked very different than she had when Kyra had seen her last. Her thick chestnut hair was bound back, and she wore an unassuming
dress of undyed linen. But though she dressed to blend in, Willem’s former mistress was still stunningly beautiful.

“I’m sorry to visit unexpectedly,” Darylene said. “May I come in?”

It took Kyra a moment to get over her surprise, but she waved Darylene in and motioned for her to sit down. Kyra offered her a cup of tea, and Darylene accepted.

An awkward silence stretched between them then, and Kyra was grateful that she could busy herself with the stove. She knew by now that she’d been unfair in her initial animosity toward
Darylene, and she was also well aware of the girl’s role in Willem’s overthrow. But still, old impressions were hard to get over, and Kyra didn’t know what to say to Darylene,
much less why she was here.

“I trust you are well?” Kyra asked when the tea was finally poured.

Darylene nodded. She still moved and held herself like an elegant lady. Kyra could see why she might have caught Willem’s eye. “Things progress well. I no longer work in the Palace.
There’s too much talk. Half the nobles deem me a traitor, while others treat me like a former trophy of Willem’s to be won and flaunted,” said Darylene. “As for my fellow
servants, they’ve never had much use for me, and turning Willem in wasn’t enough to earn their good opinion. It all grew to be too much.”

Kyra could imagine.

Darylene brushed a stray curl from her face, then continued. “It probably won’t surprise you that Willem provided for my material needs while I was his companion. And it was a big
reason why I hesitated to say anything about Willem’s crimes. It was selfish of me, I know, but I had a brother and sister who depend on me, and what I made as a servant in the Palace was not
enough.” She gave a sad smile. “Why worry about the fate of the city when my own family was fed?”