The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy) (13 page)

He never had. Ashlyn wondered why; she supposed that
there were too many memories keeping him away from the cold city.

"Yeah, I know this place pretty well," she
said, and frowned, suddenly realizing that while Kou seemed to have basic
geographic knowledge of various cities, he was completely clueless about their
physical location and direction.

"You haven't been here before, have you."
She phrased it as a question but spoke as though it were a statement of fact.

"Until a few weeks ago I had never left the
island of Toryn," he answered.

That wasn’t unusual. Few Toryns traveled extensively.

"Where'd you manage to get on Aaron‘s
airship?" she asked, running her fingers through Suki’s mane. It shone in
the sunlight, almost silver, the same color as Drake’s metal glove.

"We were transported on a flying machine to the
plains," Kou said. "To a stable by the grasslands."

She was vaguely surprised that he'd answered her so
easily; perhaps he trusted her more than she'd thought. "So…from Toryn to
the plains, to Storim- did you get off the ship at all in Storim?"

"No."

"And then I found you in the ship's galley,
before we could go anywhere else," she said. "You haven't really been
anywhere
yet."

"I've been to Cosmea," he replied tersely.
Ashlyn almost smiled.

"Yeah…you saw the entrance, the tavern and my
bedroom, and you saw it in pitch-black with nothing but the Endless Flame to
light your way," she said heavily. "Sounds like a raw deal to
me."

They fell silent for several long moments.

"I have longed to travel since I was a
child," Kou spoke up at length. "Though I have not witnessed what
lies beyond the grasslands, or even the sight of Cosmea in the daylight, I hope
to see a great deal before the gods take me. I wish…"

He trailed off for a moment, then continued, "I
wish to see these things of which I have read. I have seen paintings of the
plains of snow-fire that span the northern continent. I have heard stories of
powerful stanes in hidden caves. I long to see the canyons of Landi, to enter
the Heavenly City and see how the Angels lived."

There was a raw yearning in his voice that reminded
Ashlyn of herself at the same age, so eager and innocent, so bold and yet
completely awestruck at the same time. She too had longed to witness the cities
she had read of in the scrolls of her ancestors, and she had seen them all in her
adventures- the snow plains blazing with sunlight outside North Camp Inn, the
reveal
stane glittering facets of orange and ember in a cave in North Triangle.
She had spent many nights at the Heavenly City, and looked into a lake so
perfectly clear that she imagined she could see Jenn's spirit smiling at her
from beneath its gleaming surface.

She had traveled the world over again, yet no place
had claimed her heart so completely as her homeland.

The air was chilly. It still amazed Ashlyn how greatly
the climates differed between cities. With only two days’ journey to separate
Cosmea and Eastern City, she always expected the temperature change to be mild.
But nothing was warm in the Eastern areas…snow was common even in summertime.

She told herself that when they reached Eastern City,
she
would
buy new clothes. The clothes she was wearing would be
practically indecent even in a dry heat. With the threat of rain overhead she
figured that she'd soon be regretting the skimpy outfit more than ever.

She felt another sudden, intense wave of shame that
she could be shallow enough to think of something like clothing when she'd all
but thrown the sword at Drake. Ashlyn swallowed hard, drawing a hand across her
eyes as if the motion could wipe away her guilt along with the raindrops that
sprinkled her face.

The first outcropping of the mountain range came up on
their right as dusk began to fall. Despite her usual misgivings, Ashlyn felt
miserably content in the gray-tinted light. The color seemed fitting.

She pulled the horse to a lazy halt outside Eastern
City. "Should we go in?" she asked skeptically, wondering if staying
at the inn would just make it that much easier for FLD to find them.

"We need supplies," Kou answered. He swung
down from behind Ashlyn, his soft boots making no noise on the grass. Looking
up at her in the darkness, his gaze went from her rain-streaked face to the
saddlebags draped across her thighs. "You haven't got anything else to
wear, have you?"

Ashlyn smiled. "Nothing any different than what
I'm wearing now," she said. "You're right. We do need supplies."

The rain chose that exact moment to pick up, droplets
spattering Ashlyn's face and bare arms deliberately, a chill weaving its way
through the damp air.

"Great," Ashlyn said, to no one in particular.
"I hate rain."

"It will wash away our tracks if it
continues," Kou said.

He reached up a hand to help her down, but she ignored
it, swinging her leg over Suki's back and dropping to the ground. Suki nickered
and moved away, eagerly reaching down to nose the ground for grass.

"I think they could find us if they really wanted
to," Ashlyn told the other ninja. "Rain or no rain." If Drake
was seriously injured, though, it probably would have slowed FLD in their
efforts to find her.

Kou looked at her keenly. "You may be
right."

They were suddenly flooded with white, an obscenely
bright light overwhelming them in the darkness of the storm. Ashlyn flinched,
her hands flying up to shield herself. She glanced over and saw that the
illumination was coming from a hand-held torch. She couldn't see who was
holding it, her vision obscured beyond the circle of light that was nearly
blinding her.

"I knew you'd come here," a voice rang out.
Clear and cynical, it was familiar to her, Ashlyn only knew one person with
that same rough, Endroan accent.

"Vargo?" she exclaimed.

"The one and only, babe." He set the torch
on the ground and advanced, the stane-powered cylinder throwing him into
silhouette as he walked closer.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded
furiously. "Are the others with you?" She wanted to, was
dying
to ask about Drake, if only to know for sure, but she couldn't bring herself to
confront the reality of what she'd done. What if the red-eyed gunslinger was
seriously injured…or worse?

As her eyes adjusted, she could see that Vargo was
dressed in jeans and a white shirt that was nearly transparent from the rain,
and he carried his baton expertly in his right hand, poised and ready for
defense. He was soaked and shivering, his wet hair plastered to his cheeks. But
somehow he managed to summon the courage to smirk at Ashlyn.

"You'd like to know, wouldn't you," he said.
"You thought you'd be able to get away, but you forgot that the airship is
a hell of a lot faster than any horse."

Ashlyn swallowed hard, rain dripping off her chin.
"You've got it all wrong. I'm trying to help you."

The Spartan cocked an eyebrow. "Really," he
said, and it was obvious that he didn't believe her.

"Yes!" Ashlyn said in exasperation. "I
don't want anyone to get hurt, don't you see? I'm the one who has to-" she
glanced at Kou- "finish this, I'm the one who has to make peace with
Devlyn. It's my responsibility, and I don't want to put everyone in danger any
more than I already have."

"You were gone for three years," he snapped.
"Little late to start protecting them now, don't you think?"

"I know I've made mistakes. I know that. But I
can't just stand by and do nothing." She nodded her head towards Kou.
"He's taking me to Toryn. I'm going to speak to Devlyn and see if we can
resolve this war before anyone else is hurt."

"Devlyn’s not the type to talk things out. He's a
warlord."

"Then I'll challenge him in the Leadership Duel,
and I'll defeat him," Ashlyn said firmly. "This may end in bloodshed.
I may not be able to stop him if he's out to kill. But I can try."

"You can do nothing," Kou spoke up.

Ashlyn glanced at him out of the corner of her eye,
careful not to let her attention waver from Vargo. "What are you talking
about?"

"Regardless of whether or not I agree with your
opinion of Lord Devlyn, you cannot fight him," Kou answered. Vargo
shifted, and Kou twitched, the knife gleaming in his hand, before he looked
back at Ashlyn. "I know this Duel you speak of. It is impossible to
challenge the reigning Elder Lord unless you are heir to leadership."

Vargo glanced at Kou, then at her. She shook her head,
silently pleading with him not to say anything, but the red-haired man scoffed
and rolled his eyes.

"This is pathetic," he said disgustedly.
"This guy doesn't know who you are. He's risking his life for you and you
haven't even told him the truth."

"I know she is not who she says," Kou
retorted. "I know that she has lied to me. I am not as stupid as you may
think."

"But you don't even know who she is," Vargo
snapped. "Has she even told you her name?”

"Vargo, shut up!" she cried. "Kou, my
name's not important, he doesn't know what he's talking about." Her mind
was running wild, hoping against hope that Kou would somehow remember the way
the Spartans had treated the Toryn people during the war. She knew it was too
much to ask but couldn't shake the absurd possibility from her thoughts.

"Your name is the whole reason for this
war," Vargo said, taking a step closer to Ashlyn.

She made no move to stop him, partly because she was
trembling with apprehension, partly because she was suddenly wondering if he
would get careless enough for her to attack.

"Her
name
," Vargo seethed, looking at
Kou again, "is Ashlyn Li.
She
is the Elder Heir Toryn. And she
would be reigning over Toryn right now if it weren't for the fact that she
decided to drop off the radar for
three
whole years
while the rest of us fought to hold the world together."

That was it. Her secret was out. Dismayed, Ashlyn
shifted her gaze to Kou, expecting him to be glaring at her with betrayal and
rage in his eyes. But he was focused entirely on Vargo, his weight balanced
evenly on the balls of his feet.

"We are still bound by the blood of Toryn. She is
kin to me," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "And you are not. I
would die by her hand before I would trust a Spartan."

Thank the fates, he did remember.

Vargo stared the ninja, jaw flexing as he digested
this bit of information, and Ashlyn took the opportunity to make her move. She
lunged forward, closing the distance between them in the space of a second.

The Spartan's reflexes were faster than she expected,
and he whipped the baton up. It was too late to dodge, and Ashlyn yelped in
pain as the stick connected with her ribs, sending shocks of electricity
shuddering through her body. She knew from experience that there was no way to
stop the jolt. There was only one thing she could do.

Every breath was like a burst of fire in her lungs.
Ashlyn lurched forward, pushing herself beyond the agony-

And fell into Vargo. She collapsed into him like a falling
tree breaks to lightning, her cheek sliding against the stubble on his jaw as
she clung to him fiercely, the electrical energy surging through her body and
into his.

She squeezed her eyes shut, letting the pain rake
across her consciousness like a thousand knives. Burned into the backs of her
eyelids was an image of Drake Lockhart, folded over with a hand to his bleeding
shoulder. His ruby gaze was fixed on her, and accusation burned in those
crimson depths.

Ashlyn tumbled gratefully into darkness, hoping
against hope that Kou would still be there when she woke.

Chapter 8

Triangle

There was one upside to being unconscious that Ashlyn
had never considered before. Despite the whole
not-knowing-what-the-hell-was-going-on drawback, blacking out conveniently gave
her time to sort out her jumbled thoughts.

First on the priority list: this darn triangle that
she'd gotten herself into. (Although
admittedly
, it would be wiser to
focus on the fact that Vargo had just not only revealed her true identity to
Kou, but also knocked her unconscious, thereby rendering her unable to defend
herself against whatever revenge the Toryn ninja would try to exact, Ashlyn
felt that her love life ranked significantly higher and was a lot more
interesting, so she figured that the identity/unconscious/revenge thing could
probably wait a minute or two.)

Ahem. Anyway. She was a grown woman and she could
handle the strange emotions that seemed to be roiling within her every time
Vargo or Drake were anywhere near her.

The effort of keeping her fascination with Drake
firmly ensconced in the realm of fantasy three years ago had been monumental.
But Ashlyn had managed, and what’s more, she’d moved on. Being reunited with
Drake now, and keeping her feelings hidden, was more difficult. The situation
certainly hadn’t gotten any easier when Kou had wounded Drake in Cosmea.