Midnight Thief (25 page)

T H I R T Y - S E V E N

T
he moment they started running, Kyra knew they were in trouble. Tristam’s ordeal had taken its toll. His balance was off, and strain showed on his face with each step. Still, they had no choice but to run.

They needed a river to wash out their scent and hide their tracks. Even then, Kyra wasn’t sure the Makvani wouldn’t be able to pick their scent out of the air. Running alongside Tristam, her own recently trained nose caught the fresh blood of his wounds, and more disturbingly, another layer of fever and sickness underneath. More than once, she saw him stumble.

“We’re almost there,” she said, squeezing the words out between gasps. “There’s a river up ahead.”

Already, the ground was sloping down. They slowed, stepping carefully over roots and rocks toward the rushing water. She broke through the trees on the riverbank and stopped at the edge. It was a small river and looked to be waist deep. Icy water swirled around her ankles as she waded in.

“How are you doing?” A rock tipped as she put her weight on it and she barely avoided twisting her ankle.

“I’ll live,” said Tristam through gritted teeth.

They followed the river until Kyra had no feeling left in her submerged feet.

“Do you think we can cross?” she asked.

Tristam nodded and they turned into the deeper water toward the opposite bank. The current took her breath away and she clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. Behind her, Tristam stumbled and she rushed to his side, bracing against the slippery stones as he steadied himself. Kyra ducked under his shoulder. His weight made her knees buckle. They fought through, resisting the flow, until they finally clambered up the opposite bank. At the top of the slope, Kyra collapsed onto the dirt, only to jump up again as the smell of demon cats filled her nostrils. Kyra turned her face into the wind. There were definitely cats in that direction, and they were close.

“We need to—” She stopped when she saw Tristam’s face. He was scrutinizing her, eyes wary.

“You’re different….”

She ignored him. “The demon cats are everywhere. We can’t stay.” But then she stopped. They couldn’t run either. Tristam could hardly walk at this point, and just helping him across the river had exhausted her. Tristam’s grim expression told her that he had reached the same conclusion.

“There was a small alcove by the riverbank a little upstream,” he said. “Maybe we can wait out the search there.”

It was a painful scramble back down the riverbank to retrace their steps, but they found it. On one side of the bank, the water had worn a depression in the river wall and then receded away, leaving a small cave. Some grass grew at the opening to provide cover. It wasn’t great, but it would have to do. They climbed into the cramped space and sat there, leaning their heads against the packed dirt as they struggled to catch their breath.

“So what happened?” Tristam finally asked.

Kyra sighed and closed her eyes. “James caught me at the Guildhouse. We fought. He won. I thought I was going to die, but the Demon Riders rescued me.”

“Do you know why they helped you?”

Kyra paused. “The Demon Riders thought I was one of them.”

“That’s very strange.”

She pulled her knees closer and hunched over, aware of his eyes on her and unable to face him. It had taken him long enough to trust her when he’d thought her simply a criminal. What would he think now, if he knew she was kin to the creatures who’d now killed two of his comrades?

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said.

To her surprise, he didn’t press her. “I guess this means you’re not one of them? Are you coming back to Forge?”

Kyra chuckled bitterly, wondering if Tristam had any idea what the question meant. She didn’t regret her decision to run. There was no way she could have stood by as they killed Tristam. But at the same time, there was still so much she didn’t know about the Makvani. Would she ever go hunting again? Was that side of her lost forever? “I need to speak with Malikel,” she said. “James is planning another raid. I found ten vials of blueflower extract in his study.”

“Blueflower extract?” Tristam’s half-closed eyes fluttered open. “That’s strange. Who do you think he’s after?”

“I don’t know. The Council perhaps?”

“The Council only has twenty members. He could poison five times that number with ten vials.”

“The Palace guards, then?”

“Not enough for that. We have a regular force of two hundred.” Tristam closed his eyes. “You’re right. We do have to tell Malikel.”

Minutes ticked into hours, and Kyra lost track of time. Their hiding place was damp. The dirt was moist, and occasional sprays from the river carried the promise of a chilly night. The sound of Tristam’s breathing next to her became labored and shallow. She took his hands and tried to rub heat into his icy fingers. He acknowledged her efforts with a glance, but otherwise lay back against the dirt wall, unmoving.

She climbed to her feet. “I’m going to look around.”

Kyra didn’t smell the cats as she made her way up the bank. Perhaps the search had moved on. But the scent hit her again as soon as she topped the slope. Kyra bit her lip and climbed back down. She needed some way to make them leave.

“Do you have bandages under your tunic?” she asked Tristam.

“Yes, why?”

“Let me look at them.”

Tristam looked confused, but peeled off his tunic, grimacing when he had to move his injured arm. Spots of blood seeped through the top layer of his bandages.

Kyra scooted closer and unwrapped them, careful to keep the cleaner layers free of dirt. She had to look away briefly when she unraveled the rest. The muscles of his shoulder bore deep, ragged wounds, and she definitely smelled infection.

Noticing her reaction, Tristam gave a wan smile. “I’d hoped you’d be more impressed at my battle-hardened brawn.”

It would have been funnier if his voice hadn’t been quite so weak. Kyra squeezed his arm. “Once we get you sewn up, you’ll be plenty impressive.”

She briefly wondered if her saliva had any healing properties, but her stomach flipped and she dismissed the idea. The Makvani only cleaned wounds in cat form anyway. Her best bet was to get Tristam back to Forge.

The inner bandages were soaked through with blood, and she tore that part off, rewrapping the rest as best she could. It bothered her how passive Tristam was acting. He was more lethargic than he’d been even half an hour before, and he was shivering, even though he was clearly trying to hide it. She took his arm to thread it back into his tunic. His skin was hot to the touch and damp with sweat.

“Tristam.” She spoke slowly and clearly. “I’m going to take your bandages outside and away from here. Maybe the scent will lead the search somewhere else. We need that blind to escape.”

He shifted and looked at her. “You’re going to try to lead them away?”

“Aye, you stay here. I’ll come back.”

“It’s not worth the risk. Just try to get to Forge and send help.”

“You won’t last that long, not with all of them looking for you. Just stay put.”

She grabbed the bandage and crawled out before he could argue. At the top of the bank, she looked around again. Where could she go? After a moment’s hesitation, she picked a direction and ran. She jumped over roots and ducked under branches, thinking just to get away from the river.

After a while, brown fur flashed behind her and to the right. Someone had found her. She cut to the left and down a hill. The hard dirt pounded against her feet as she barreled down. A quick glance behind showed that her pursuer still trailed her, and if anything, was gaining.

Desperate, she dove into a cluster of bushes and scrambled through, only to stop at a glimpse of white fur through the trees ahead of her. She turned again, willing herself to run faster. She could hear the cats behind her now, their footsteps heavy as they abandoned silence for speed. There was a rustle of branches in front of her, and a third demon cat dropped straight in her path, blocking her way. Kyra skidded to a stop as the two others closed in from behind. For a few long moments, they stayed there, the three cats ready to block any move she made. Then, a familiar yellow cat ran in, looked around, and slowly changed shape.

Pashla hadn’t finished settling into her human form before she crossed over to Kyra and struck her across the face.

T H I R T Y - E I G H T

T
he blow knocked her to the ground. Kyra fought back a cry as her elbow skidded across the dirt.

“This is how you repay me.”

Kyra looked down, unable to meet Pashla’s eyes. It was true. Pashla had saved her life, fought for her, and taught her the ways of the clan. And Kyra had betrayed her.

Pashla dragged Kyra to her feet and spun her to face the other three demon cats. “Back to Leyus.”

They didn’t tie her up, but instead herded her back, one demon cat flanking Kyra on each side. When Kyra slowed, the cat behind her snapped at her heels. Kyra desperately scanned the trees ahead and behind her as they traveled. The cats were watching the path, not her. If she could break away for long enough to get to a hiding place…One cat turned its head and gazed at Kyra out of the corner of its eye, as if to assure her that they were indeed watching.

Demon Riders were already gathered at the clearing when Kyra arrived. Had they assembled at her escape? No, most didn’t even look at her as she was brought in. They clustered in groups, deep in discussion. As her captors pulled a rope tight around her wrists, Kyra glimpsed Tristam, also captive, slumped against a tree. He raised his eyes to hers and then looked down again, as if he were too tired to meet her gaze.

Pashla fixed Kyra with a burning stare. “Why did you do it?”

Why? Because they were slavers. Because Kyra couldn’t stand by and watch them murder Tristam. Because all she wanted to do was go home and cry on Bella’s shoulder, but she couldn’t, because they’d killed Bella too.

“I couldn’t let him die,” was all she said.

“You failed. He will still die tomorrow, and now you will too.” Pashla’s tone was sharp with bitterness and regret. It looked like she would say more, but she turned and wove into the crowd of Demon Riders. Kyra let herself slump when Pashla left, but her respite was short-lived. When Pashla returned, Leyus came with her.

The head Demon Rider fixed his gaze on Kyra and Tristam, and Kyra suddenly felt deeply ashamed. The two of them, filthy and exhausted, must have looked pathetic. “Keep them apart. I will speak to them separately,” he commanded.

Tristam threw one last glance back as two Demon Riders dragged him away. Others shoved Kyra against a tree, binding her tightly. At a nod from Leyus, everyone left except for two cats who watched from a distance. Kyra closed her eyes, digging for the resolve to face his questions.

The Demon Rider spoke calmly. “You have betrayed the clan and thrown Pashla’s trust in her face. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“What will you do with me?” she asked.

“I warned you. If you betray us, we will treat you like any other human. Even dying by our hands is more dignity than you deserve. Tomorrow, we return you to James to deal with as he wishes.”

James. He was the reason for all of this. “You’re fools to deal with him. He’ll betray you as readily as he betrayed me.”

“That’s enough.” Now Leyus was also angry. “Bold talk for someone who herself lied so readily. Or do you still expect us to believe that the knight is a stranger to you? That you have no ties to the Palace?”

Kyra looked down, unable to answer, but then her eyes fell on Leyus’s hand. He was holding a parchment—a strikingly familiar one. “The map,” she blurted. “You have my map of the Fastkeep.”

Leyus glanced at the parchment. “So you were the cartographer,” he said. “The map was well drawn.”

Kyra stared at him with dread. “When is the raid?”

“You worry too much about things that no longer concern you, halfblood.”

He left before she could answer.

Dawn was cutting through the mists when Kyra woke to the footsteps of unfamiliar Demon Riders. It was a cold morning, and moisture from the fog had settled on her skin while she slept. The Demon Riders didn’t speak as they led her back to the clearing, where the clan had gathered in its usual circle. Tristam was in the center, bruised and leaning on one of his guards for support. Next to him stood Leyus. Kyra steeled herself to join them, but to her surprise, her guards kept her at the edge of the circle.

The crowd shifted at the sound of approaching hoofbeats, and three riders came into view. Even from his outline amidst the haze, Kyra recognized James. The scar on her stomach throbbed, and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. If they untied her, she didn’t know if she’d go for his throat or flee.

The circle opened into a horseshoe to let in the newcomers, and Kyra’s guards pulled her behind the other Demon Riders, hiding her from view. Kyra recognized Alex’s black locks and Shea’s quick stride. They stayed back while James dismounted to greet Leyus, and Kyra strained to hear the conversation. Everyone else must have been doing the same, because the two men’s voices echoed unchallenged through the forest.

“How did you find him?” James asked.

“He was prying around the forest. We killed his companion but kept him alive.”

“I am grateful,” said James as Shea and Alex unloaded several saddlebags. “Here are fifty sets of winter garments, made from Forge’s best imported silk. The cloth wicks sweat away from your skin, keeps you dry in the cold.”

Leyus opened the case and nodded approval. At his signal, Tristam’s handlers pulled him toward James. The knight stumbled, then shook off his guards to take the last few steps to James himself.

James bowed. “Sir Tristam of Brancel. I don’t believe we’ve met.” Even from that distance, she caught the mockery in his voice. The assassin turned to Leyus. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you, as always. You’ll get the other half of the payment after the next raid.”

“We’ve studied your maps,” said Leyus. “It won’t be a problem if you provide the diversion you promised.”

Kyra’s entire body clenched, and she leaned closer. Diversion? Was that what the blueflower extract was for?

“It’s taken care of,” said James. “Just be careful inside the compound. I need enough left alive to keep Forge running. A city in anarchy is of no use to me.”

“I will send my most experienced cats in there. They won’t lose control.”

“Then we’ll meet again soon,” said James. “Do try the garments and let me know if they’re to your liking.”

As he turned away, Leyus spoke again. “There is one more prisoner you might be interested in.”

Kyra’s guards dragged her forward. James’s eyes widened and he wheeled on Leyus, furious.

“Why is she still alive? Your people told me they’d feed her to your cats.”

“We had need of her.” Leyus’s tone held no hint of an apology. “But now we’re through. She is yours to deal with as you please.”

“It’s not like you to treat our agreements so loosely.”

“This was a special case. I assure you it will not happen again.”

For a moment, James glared at Leyus. But he was outnumbered, and judging from the frustration in his eyes, he was all too aware of it. Kyra only had a moment to savor this small victory before he turned to her.

“She’s too good at staying alive,” James murmured. He reached for Kyra. She tried again to break free, but her guards still held her with a bruising grip. Gathering what moisture was left in her mouth, Kyra spat in his face. It was a pathetic attempt, but James’s jaw tightened.

“This time I’ll make sure you’re dead.” James unsheathed his dagger and stepped close to her. “You say she’s mine to deal with, Leyus?”

“Do as you wish.”

Kyra felt the entire clan watching as James raised the blade. In the corner of her eye, she saw Tristam straining against the assassins holding him. She squeezed her eyes shut, hearing nothing but the sound of her own harsh breathing. She felt her guards behind her, muscles taut in preparation for any final escape attempt. So this was it. She’d die here, and the clan would attack the Palace, killing all of Malikel’s people in exchange for a hundred winter garments.

A hundred winter garments, to be worn close to the skin.

Ten vials of blueflower extract.

“Poison!” she shouted.

James’s blade halted.

“James has betrayed you, Leyus.” Kyra spoke in a jumble, desperate to get the words out before James slit her throat. “The garments are poisoned.”

Strong arms jerked Kyra back and a Demon Rider pushed himself between her and James.

The assassin’s eyes narrowed. “You said you wouldn’t interfere, Leyus.”

“I will hear her out,” Leyus said. He came to stand in front of Kyra. “What do you mean?”

Kyra heard a hiss from Tristam’s direction. The knight was looking at her, eyes wide with realization, and she knew he’d come to the same conclusion. Kyra ran her tongue over dry lips, willing her heartbeat to slow. “The night Pashla found me, I raided James’s study. He had ten vials of blueflower extract in his poison chest. I believe he’s used it to taint the garments he just gave you.”

“The girl grasps for anything to delay her death,” said James. “Why would I poison you on the eve of our biggest raid?”

“Because it’s a slow poison,” said Kyra. “You’d be fine for the raid, even for several weeks afterward. But once the winter’s over and you’ve outlived your usefulness, you’ll sicken and die.”

Leyus looked slowly from Kyra to James and back. “Do you have proof?”

“Ten vials is enough to poison a hundred garments. And James has just delivered fifty garments to you, with the promise of fifty more….” Kyra trailed off as she realized how flimsy her logic was. It was a stretch, she realized. But there was something about her suspicion that felt right. This was something James would do. He needed the Demon Riders in order to weaken the Place, but he wasn’t a fool. James knew that his alliance with the Makvani was tenuous at best. They bore no loyalty toward him, and he’d always been careful to eliminate threats preemptively, before they had a chance to strike.

Leyus’s expression changed from concern to disdain. “You disappoint me, Kyra, grasping at stories to add a few more moments to your life. You disgrace your blood heritage.”

Blood heritage. Kyra clung to those words as her last hope. “If you really acknowledge my blood, grant me my right of Challenge.”

A shocked silence followed her statement. Then, a murmur ran through the crowd.

“Explain yourself,” said Leyus.

James eyed her suspiciously, but Kyra ignored him and plunged forward. “Let me face the one who would kill me, in combat.”

“You make a mockery of the Challenge,” said Leyus. “It is a right of someone who has something to lose, not a last-ditch option for a prisoner about to die.”

“I don’t want to Challenge for my life. You can kill me either way.”

Leyus came closer. “What do you mean?”

“Let me fight for the right to prove myself,” said Kyra. “If I lose the Challenge, so be it. But if I win, let me take the garments to a healer who can test them for poison. If I’m wrong, you can kill me then.”

Around her, the murmurs died down, and all eyes turned to Leyus.

James spat on the ground. “My patience is wearing thin, Leyus. How long will you humor the girl’s attempts to delay the inevitable?”

Leyus examined Kyra’s face, deep in thought. “Very well. I grant your request.” He turned to James. “You heard her. Will you take the Challenge? If you do not wish to fight her, we can guard her until we test the garments.”

“I refuse to play your games,” said James. “When you start honoring our agreements again, we can do business. But until then, we part ways.” He spun back toward his horse. Alex and Shea picked up the bags of clothes.

“Where are you taking the garments?” asked Leyus.

“If your people can go back on a deal, so can I. Keep Tristam. Come find me when you’ll trade honestly,” said James.

“Is that the real reason, James?” Kyra asked loudly. “Or are you taking them back so they can’t be tested for poison?”

James rounded on her and slapped her across the face. “I won’t have you here corrupting their minds against me,” he hissed. Kyra blinked the tears from her eyes, holding her breath until the blow’s sting faded. She had never seen James lose his composure like this, and it both frightened her and convinced her that she was right.

The assassin turned to Leyus. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll accept the terms of your Challenge. Untie and arm her if you must, but she’s caused me too much trouble to leave her here alive.”

“So you’ll fight her?” asked Leyus.

“Aye.”

Suddenly, a Demon Rider was cutting the bindings around Kyra’s wrist. Blood rushed into her hands, followed by tiny needles that stabbed her fingers. She stumbled forward, reeling at the turn of events. Leyus handed her a knife. “You fight now, as you are.”

The circle had already begun to expand, its members making as much room as they could for the combatants. James shed his cloak and stretched his arms and legs, watching Kyra from a distance. She could feel him making note of everything she did, every stumble. Kyra was all too aware of her weak legs as she tried to walk some life into them. The last two times she’d fought James, he’d beaten her easily. How could she hope to face him after a night’s imprisonment? She shook out her limbs again. No matter. Better to go down fighting.

James regarded Leyus warily. “Your word, then. No interference.”

“My people will stay out of this, as will yours.”

Kyra saw a few Demon Riders move closer to the other two assassins. Then Leyus nodded and backed out of the circle. It was a clear signal to begin. Kyra gripped her blade tight.

James focused his eyes on Kyra and advanced slowly. “What’s your secret, Kyra? Why can’t I get rid of you?”

Kyra backed away, staying out of his reach. “Lucky, I guess.”

“I think it’s more than that. It really is a pity. You could have become one of our best.”

She knew he was trying to distract her, to provoke a reaction so she’d drop her guard. Still, his words were oddly hypnotic.

“From the first time I saw you work,” said James, “I knew you were different. You’re the closest I’ve ever seen to a natural assassin.”

James attacked before he finished the sentence. Kyra jumped aside but lost her balance and tripped. She scrambled up and out of his reach, curving her path to avoid running into the Makvani. Kyra had a feeling they’d throw her back in if she came too close.