Midnight Thief (24 page)

“Are the geese still there?” Pashla asked.

“Aye,” Kyra said after a pause.

“Well done. I’ll go after one now. Try to keep up.”

Pashla handed Kyra her clothes and her pouch before changing shape. Once in cat form, she started upwind toward the geese. Kyra tucked Pashla’s things under her arm and gathered the kittens to follow, but then Pashla stopped and turned around, running back toward Kyra and then past her, speeding up as she went. Despite Kyra’s best efforts to keep up, Pashla disappeared into the forest, only to reappear a few moments later as she scaled a particularly tall tree. In a flash, she jumped from that tree to another, then another, before she dove toward the ground.

Kyra heard a scream—a man’s scream—and sped up, weaving through the trees as quickly as her healing body would allow. She heard a scuffle, growling, and more screams. Kyra burst through the foliage to see Pashla, still in cat form, dragging a man by the arm through the dirt. Next to them, another man lay on the ground, bleeding from a head wound. She couldn’t see his face, but he looked to be a guard from the Palace. Kyra stood there, frozen in indecision, until another movement distracted her. The first man, the one whose arm was still between Pashla’s teeth, raised his head and looked directly at her.

It was Tristam.

T H I R T Y - F I V E

K
yra! For a moment, the elation of recognition cleared Tristam’s head of pain. But then, they locked eyes. Horror flashed across her face, and then panic. It was unmistakably her. But why was she healthy? And free?

The demon cat tightened its jaws, and once again Tristam couldn’t think about anything except the pain. He heard Kyra shouting in the background. The forest was overrun by a chorus of snarls and snapping branches. Another demon cat landed in a shower of leaves. Martin moaned.

No, not Martin.
Tristam gritted his teeth and twisted his head. His companion was covered in blood. More demon cats arrived, followed by their Riders. Suddenly, the cat released his arm, and Tristam fell face-first onto the dirt. There was a shadow as the cat stepped over him and walked into the trees.

“Did you see this?” a man asked.

Tristam spat sand out of his mouth.

“No.” Kyra was speaking to them as peers, not as a prisoner. “I only caught up to Pashla after it happened.”

Another woman spoke. “They were sneaking around. I took them by surprise.” Tristam raised his head. It was the Demon Rider woman who’d killed Jack. Raw hatred ran through him.

“Was there anyone else with them?” asked the man.

“I don’t think so, Leyus,” the woman answered. “But James is after this one.” The woman jerked her thumb toward Tristam. “He’s the same knight I caught spying last time. You will recognize him from James’s portraits.”

“You’re right,” said Leyus. “Kyra, did James ever speak of him?” Leyus asked.

“James never told us much of anything,”

What now? Was Kyra still working for James? He struggled to think of another explanation, any explanation, of what he was hearing.

The one called Leyus turned his attention to Tristam.

“What were you doing in the forest?”

Tristam raised himself onto one elbow and lifted his face toward the Demon Riders. “Regular patrols.” Dust from the ground coated his throat and made his voice hoarse.

“You are not in a position to lie to me, knight.”

A cat swiped at Tristam with its paw, knocking him sideways and ripping a trail in his tunic. The blow knocked the breath out of him, and he couldn’t have answered even if he wanted to.

“How is the other one?” asked Leyus.

Tristam saw some movement from Martin’s direction. He clenched his fists as Martin first groaned and then screamed.

“Useless.” Leyus’s voice dripped with disgust. “Are there others out there?”

Tristam stared stone-faced at the ground and steeled himself for another blow. None came.

“So James is looking for the knight?” said Leyus. “What about the Red Shield?”

“We have no use for him,” said Pashla.

“What are you going to do with them?” Kyra asked. Her voice was high-pitched, bordering on hysteria.

“That is not your concern. Leave us,” the man said. Tristam looked up to see someone pull Kyra out of sight.

“Deal with the Red Shield.”

Almost before Leyus finished speaking, a cat grabbed Martin by the arm and dragged him toward the trees. Tristam felt the blood drain from his face as Martin’s screams grew worse. The cries echoed through Tristam’s head, and he squeezed his eyes shut. It was a horrible relief when Martin finally quieted.

“Take the knight and watch him,” said Leyus, looking this time at Tristam. “We will hand him over to James when he comes.”

Martin’s screams were impossible to ignore. Kyra longed to clamp her hands over her ears, but Pashla gripped her arm in an unforgiving hold. Then his screams stopped, and Kyra went limp, unable to face what had happened.

“Will you kill Tristam, too?”

“That is Leyus’s decision,” said Pashla. She pulled Kyra farther away from the crowd.

“You can’t,” Kyra said.

“Why? What is he to you?”

Kyra wrested her arm away and pivoted to run. She made it five steps before Pashla tackled her to the ground. Kyra kicked and struggled, yelling incoherent insults, but the clanswoman was more than her match.

“Kyra, listen to me.”

Kyra made a few more halfhearted attempts before she succumbed to exhaustion.

“I know this is hard, Kyra. You grew up with humans,” said Pashla, “but you have to let it go. Sometimes, a few humans have to be sacrificed for the good of the clan.”

Kyra choked and spit. “How can you just say that?”

“Think about it, Kyra. There is always some sacrifice. What about the meat we eat every day? The animals had to sacrifice their lives. This is no different.”

“You keep talking about humans as if they were something else,” said Kyra. “But I’m half human. Have you forgotten that?”

There was a long pause.

“Yes, I have,” Pashla said quietly. “And you need to as well. For better or worse, you are with the clan now, Kyra, and you must live under its laws. Consider your human self dead by James’s hand. If you want a second chance at life, you have to take it as a daughter of the Makvani.”

T H I R T Y - S I X

T
ristam struggled to swallow the lump in his throat.
Don’t think about Martin. You’re a knight, Tristam. Act like one.

They searched him for weapons and confiscated the knife in his boot. Leyus dragged him up by his collar and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Look at me.” The Demon Rider shook Tristam until he raised his head. “James wants you alive. This will be easier for both of us if you do not struggle.”

A Demon Rider tore off Tristam’s tunic. They bandaged his shoulder wound, bound Tristam’s hands in front of him, and pushed him against a tree. Rough bark dug into his back as Leyus tied him to the trunk, then walked in a slow circle to inspect his knots. A few times, he pulled the bindings tighter, and Tristam gritted his teeth as the ropes dug into his arms.

“Rest well, knight,” Leyus said.

Leaving one cat to guard him, the Demon Riders retreated into the forest. Tristam waited until he was sure they were gone. Then he slumped against his ropes, closing his eyes as a wave of grief washed over him. For a long time, he stood there, fighting despair. Martin was dead, and he was captured—all for a girl, who for all appearances didn’t need rescuing. The image of her, uninjured and unbound amongst the Demon Riders, flashed again through his mind. What an idiot he’d been.

Around him, the forest was empty, with no sign of the Demon Riders except for the one cat that guarded him. There was something about the beast that made Tristam’s hair stand on end. The cat watched him through intelligent eyes, and when it circled Tristam, he swore it was examining the rope for weaknesses. It was more than a well-trained pet.

Midway through the night, a Demon Rider brought him raw meat and allowed him to relieve himself before tying him up again. Tristam only managed to choke down a single piece of meat, but it didn’t take him long to realize he should have forced himself to eat more. By morning, his throat was parched and his stomach ached with hunger. He pulled against his ropes in the vain hope that they had loosened during the night, but they didn’t budge. All the while, his feline guard watched his efforts through half-closed eyes.

The sun climbed overhead, passing the halfway mark and sucking any remaining moisture from his skin. Some time in midafternoon, his guard suddenly sprang to its feet, staring into the forest at a shape that took Tristam longer to make out.

It was Kyra.

She approached slowly, with a bag in one hand and a flask in the other. She was dressed in the same leather tunic the other Demon Riders had worn. Her cheeks were flushed from the crisp breeze, and she maintained an aura of forced calm. The cat growled in warning and blocked her way.

“I’m bringing water and food. Leyus wants me to talk to him,” she said, addressing the cat as if it were a man. It didn’t budge.

“I won’t untie him.”

The cat moved aside, still watching her movements carefully. It made Tristam uneasy, how human these cats were.

“Are you thirsty?” Kyra asked.

He nodded, mouth too dry to speak.

She lifted the flask halfway. “I’m going to have to feed you.”

Her obvious discomfort wasn’t a good sign. If she had been scared or defeated, he might have held out some hope of a misunderstanding. But instead, she looked ashamed.

She lifted the flask to his lips and slowly let it pour into his mouth. It was easily the most refreshing drink he’d had in his life. For a moment, he was grateful despite her betrayal. When he’d had enough, Kyra put the flask down.

“The meat’s hard to get used to,” she said quietly. “I brought some berries.”

“You’re in better shape than I expected.” He made no effort to mask the bitterness in his voice.

Her eyes flickered briefly to his before she busied herself with sorting the berries. “A lot has happened,” she said.

“Is that all you’re going to tell me?” He struggled to control his anger. “The last I heard, you were being carried into the forest by Demon Riders.”

“Why did you come this far in?” she asked.

“To rescue you. Martin and I have been coming out here against Palace orders.”

That got through to her. Her face twisted briefly before she schooled her features again. “I’m sorry,” she said. “About Martin.”

Tristam gave up any attempt at self-control. He strained against the ropes, hardly noticing the resulting pain through his injured arm. “You owe me more than that. Were you working for James this entire time? Gaining my sympathy for Palace secrets? You played me for a fool.” Kyra held some berries to his lips and he turned his head. “How do I know these aren’t poisoned?”

“Don’t be stupid,” she snapped. “Starving yourself won’t help anyone.”

Tristam accepted the berries. He was so hungry he couldn’t have held out long anyway.

“I in’t working for James,” she said finally.

“Then what are you doing here?”

She looked away. “It’s complicated.”

“Of course it is.”

She flinched at his caustic tone.

“At least tell me what they’re going to do with me,” said Tristam.

Kyra glanced briefly behind her, meeting the cat’s eye, then nodded. “James has been trying to get rid of you and Malikel for a while now. He’s meeting with the Riders soon. They’ll turn you over, in exchange for some favors from the Guild.”

He crumpled against his ropes. “How long do I have?”

“One day, maybe two. I’m talking to Leyus, trying to change his mind.”

“I appreciate your efforts on my behalf.”

She ignored his sarcasm and dug into the pouch again. “I may not be able to come back for a while. Here are some berries for later.” He felt her press something into his hands.

She turned and left, walking quickly past the demon cat without looking back. Instead of helping him, she had left him with more questions, and a handful of berries that he couldn’t even lift to his mouth. He looked at them, entertaining some vague hope that Kyra had slipped him something to help him escape. But no, they were just regular bush berries, some already bleeding black juice into his palm.

His guard padded over, eyeing the gift suspiciously.

“It’s just berries,” he said, holding them out as best he could. The cat growled and came closer, tail swishing as it stuck its nose into Tristam’s hand. Tristam held very still. There was a movement in the corner of his eye, but instinctively he knew not to look. A moment later, he heard a loud crack. The cat staggered back to reveal Kyra brandishing a rock. She followed her first blow with another to the beast’s head. For a moment, the cat looked dazed. Then it launched itself at Kyra. The girl barely had time to dart away—right into Tristam. Pain streaked through his shoulder. He felt something heavy drop into his palm. Kyra wobbled and looked into his eyes as she steadied herself. Then she ran, the demon cat close on her heels.

Tristam closed his fingers over the new object. It was a knife—Kyra had found his knife. His guard, as far as he could tell, was still chasing Kyra and hadn’t noticed. Tristam took a slow breath. His arms were completely bound, and he could only move his wrists and fingers. If he dropped the dagger…well, he wouldn’t. Slowly, he eased off the leather sheath and let it fall. If he twisted his wrist, he could just graze the ropes with the blade.

The cat chased Kyra up a tree and into the higher branches. Tristam kept an eye on them as he worked. As strand by strand gave way, the ropes loosened, and he sawed more quickly. Finally, his arms came free and Tristam pulled at the rest until they lay in a pile on the ground. He took a step and grabbed the tree for support as a million invisible needles attacked his limbs.

There was a loud crack, followed by a crash. Tristam looked up to find Kyra crumpled on the ground, surrounded by leaves and twigs. A few paces away, the demon cat crouched, also disoriented. Then it stood up, shook itself, and limped toward Kyra. The girl lifted her head, making no move to defend herself.

Tristam lurched toward the cat with the knife, aiming for the tender flesh under its neck. The beast whipped around, and Tristam brought the knife down, angling the blade so it slipped between strands of fur. The dagger lodged in the demon cat’s shoulder. The animal roared in fury. Desperately scrambling for another weapon, Tristam grabbed a large branch and put all his remaining strength behind his attack, pummeling the creature as hard as he could. One hit connected with the base of the demon cat’s skull, and the beast sank to the ground.

Kyra groaned, and Tristam turned to see her slowly push herself to her feet.

“That was a bad idea,” she said.

“Was our earlier conversation all an act?”

“Some of it,” she said, rubbing her backside. She grimaced and staggered over to the cat, placing her hand in front of its muzzle to check its breathing. “He’s still alive.”

“Not for long.” Tristam wrenched the knife out of the cat’s shoulder and pried its mouth open.

“No!” Kyra’s eyes were wide, horrified.

“Give me one good reason not to,” he snarled. First Jack, then Martin, and the countless in the fire. He would kill one of these creatures before he died.

“Please…”

He looked at her incredulously and stepped toward her, only to grab a tree for support as a wave of nausea hit him. She reached out to steady him, but shrank back when he glared at her. Was he that frightening to behold?

He doubled over, his strength draining as his anger lost momentum. “Who
are
you?” he asked.

Kyra looked frantically between him and the prone demon cat. She started to talk, but then she stopped, her eyes widened, and she cast around the forest.

“They’re coming after us,” she said. “We need to go.”