My apology made all the impact of a pebble thrown at a glacier. Cara eyed me with a frozen disdain that was worse than any of her anger. “Maybe money’s the only language you’ll understand, Dev. I’m docking half your pay for this run. If I catch you jeopardizing your safety or that of the convoy again, you’re out of a job.”
“Fine.” My pay as an outrider was a pittance compared to what Bren had promised me. She could dock it all, if it’d thaw the ice in her eyes.
“One more thing,” Cara said, still in a voice colder than a snowmelt stream. “Hand over those carcabon stones.”
“What?” Damn it, she might have let the stones slide, if I hadn’t ripped her so hard. “You dock my pay, that’s fair. Taking my property, that’s not.”
“You think I’m going to let you profit from this?” She folded her arms. “If you want to stay on with this convoy, hand them over. Or head back to Ninavel. Your choice.”
Behind Cara, Kiran was twitching like he’d stepped on a fire ant nest. He opened his mouth. I scowled at him. Last thing I needed was for him to stumble in and make things worse. Thank Khalmet, he took the hint and subsided, although the glare he directed at me nearly matched Cara’s.
I slapped my belt pouch into Cara’s hand, and prayed she wouldn’t search my pack. “There. You happy?”
“Not in the least.” She opened the pouch and checked the contents. Aimed another freezing stare my way, then rounded on Kiran. “You want to be an outrider, kid? Then learn this lesson well. The lives of everyone in the convoy depend on us. If you can’t put that responsibility over your own desires, do us all a favor and stay home. Got it?”
Kiran’s mouth tightened to a thin line. He stared at the ground and jerked his head in a nod. Khalmet’s hand, you’d think he’d been the one caught climbing Kinslayer. He’d better learn to control that face of his before we faced the guards at the Alathian border.
“Crews are almost done clearing the trail. I’d better see you two back on station at the convoy before we move.” Cara stalked off down the talus.
I blew out a breath. “Well, that could’ve gone worse.”
Kiran raised his eyes to give me a disbelieving look. “I don’t see how. You risked your life and our cover in the convoy, and we don’t even have a stone to show for it!”
“Oh, relax.” I slid a hand deep inside my pack and retrieved the carcabon stone I’d stashed there. “Why d’you think I made sure to chip out more than one stone?”
A gratifying mixture of surprise and relief flowed over his face. “You knew she’d take them?”
“I like to be prepared.” Too bad nothing else about the conversation had gone the way I’d planned. My jaw throbbed like a demon singer’s drum. More, I had a sinking feeling Cara’s forgiveness would be a long time coming.
I tossed Kiran one end of the rope. “Coil that, and I’ll pack up the rest.”
He began looping the rope over his shoulders. Without looking at me, he said, “When we were on the cliff, you didn’t tell me nobody had ever climbed Kinslayer before.”
It had the sound of an accusation. I slammed a set of pitons down with a resounding clang. “Didn’t we go through this already? I climbed it. We’ve got a stone. End of story.”
“No, I didn’t mean...” He hesitated. Twisted a section of the rope in his hands. “I only wondered how you learned to climb so well.”
Meaning, he wanted to ask me about Sethan, but he didn’t quite dare. Damn her eyes, why’d Cara have to drag the past up in front of him?
I shrugged. “Learned it young, that’s all.” And not from Sethan. No, for that I could thank Red Dal. He made sure all his Tainters learned to climb. A Taint thief can float more loot down from highside spires if he doesn’t have to lift himself, too. I’d been better at it than most, just like I’d been more Tainted than most. Yeah, Red Dal had been over the moon about me in my Tainted days. I’d been so proud to earn his jubilant smiles and fatherly hugs. Shame I’d been too young and dumb to realize he didn’t care two kenets about me, only for the profit I brought him. He’d sold me off without a second thought the moment my Taint failed.
Not a subject I wanted to discuss, either. Good thing I knew a quick way to shut Kiran up.
“How about you? What kinds of things did you learn as a kid?”
Kiran’s face went shuttered and still. “Things from books, mostly. Nothing like climbing.” He bent over the rope again.
Ha. Better than a silencing charm. It wasn’t until he finished with the rope that he spoke again.
“When will we use the stone?”
I laced my pack shut and stood. “Once again, there’s no ‘we’ here. You stay clear, and I’ll handle Pello.”
Kiran heaved an exasperated sigh. “All right, when will
you
hunt for Pello’s charm?”
“Soon as I know for sure he’ll be away from his wagon a nice long while.” Something that’d be a bitch to arrange, for a man as wary as Pello. Before I moved, I hoped to gain one vital piece of information on his charm stash. And unless I missed my guess, Pello himself would provide it.
***
(Kiran)
Kiran reached out a hand to feel the spray of the stream on his skin. The water tumbled through a rock slot in a white roar of foam. Never in his life had Kiran seen so much water, moving so quickly. The sheer wonder of it eased the bitter tangle of his thoughts and brought new energy to his aching body.
Even Dev’s mood seemed improved by the sight. He’d been stone-faced and silent all the long afternoon ride. As they’d set up camp for the night, he’d spoken only in terse orders. But when he and Kiran emerged from a pine grove to confront the stream, the grim cast to his face softened.
Dev straddled the stream, his feet braced in rocky crevices. His arm muscles stood out in sharp relief as he held a jug against the force of the water. “Nothing like this in the city, huh? Wait ’til we get over the pass—then you’ll see lakes.”
Lakes. Kiran knew what they were, had seen illustrations and even scry-visions of them. But to see all that water with his own eyes—he found it incredible to imagine. He couldn’t help a smile at the thought. Dev gave him an answering smile, one of his real ones, free of any trace of sarcasm or condescension.
Kiran’s smile died as guilt clawed him again. Memory presented him with Alisa’s voice, unwontedly serious.
Every life matters, don’t you see? Rich or poor, we all have hopes and dreams, and people who love us.
Her words had struck a chord deep inside him, in a spot long left uneasy by Ruslan’s harsher teachings. He’d agreed without hesitation, captivated as much by Alisa’s ideals as the radiance of her smile.
Yet today on the cliff he’d have sacrificed Dev as surely as if he’d used a knife.
Kiran cast a stone into the stream with a vicious twist of his hand. He vowed silently that next time would be different. Next time, he’d make a choice worthy of Alisa, and accept the cost.
Within his mind, a small voice spoke—not in Ruslan’s mocking tones, but in Lizaveta’s gentle ones.
Make all the vows you like,
it whispered, fond and pitying.
You cannot change what you are.
Dev was staring at him. Kiran hastily schooled his face and asked, “Where does all this water come from? And how can it be here with no one using it?”
Dev chuckled, though his gaze lingered. “It’s not here long. This is snowmelt from the east side of the highest peaks. You only see this in the early season, and the water disappears into the soil of the lower slopes before it ever reaches the Painted Valley. The really heavy snows happen west of the mountain crest, so most of the water flows to the west. That’s why Ninavel doesn’t get any.”
Dev handed the filled jug over to Kiran. He untied the dustcloth from around his neck, bent and wet it in the stream, then pressed it against the spreading bruise that darkened his jaw. His eyes shut in obvious relief.
“Didn’t you bring any healing charms?” Kiran had never used such things himself, but he’d heard from Alisa that the untalented mended their injuries with charms and herbal potions.
Dev slanted a wry glance his way. “Healing charms don’t come cheap. I wouldn’t waste one on something this small.” Dev hopped back over the water. “C’mon. We’re helping Harken with cooking duty tonight, since we’ve finally made it to a decent campsite.”
Reluctantly, Kiran left the marvel of the stream. At least the pine trees surrounding their camp were nearly as fascinating. Trees were rare in the city, even in the largest of gardens. The only pine tree he’d ever seen in Ninavel had been head-high with thin branches and sparse clumps of silvery needles. These trees reached more than three or four times that high, with gnarled heavy branches bristling with deep green. Pine cones and fallen needles littered the ground around the ever present rocks.
When they reached the wagon, Dev dug in a box and produced a set of fire stones. After clearing out stray pine debris from a small ring of rocks, he set the glossy black stones within. He pulled a knife from his belt and pricked his finger, letting a drop of blood fall and muttering the charm’s activation words. Magic rippled against Kiran’s barriers, gently enticing. Kiran clamped his hands on his knees. One day, the temptation would fade. He refused to believe otherwise.
The stones flared with red and blue flames. Dev sat back in satisfaction.
“Good. Last time out, we had a set where the damn mage who made them hadn’t cast the charm properly, and I had to trade a good vermin ward to a stonemason to get hot food.” He handed a battered tin pot to Kiran. “Here, fill this with water and set it on the stones.”
Harken ambled over, a small brass chest cradled in his callused hands. “My thanks for fetching water, lads. I’ll handle it from here.” He opened the chest, and the pungent aromas of curry and crushed carrow seeds rose into the air. Kiran’s mouth watered. It felt like years since he’d eaten anything but hardtack and jerky.
Harken stopped Dev as he passed. “Here, take this.” He pressed a thin copper disc traced with dark runes into Dev’s hands. “I brought it to treat sandfly bites, for the horses. Near wore it out, back in the desert, but it might have a thread of power left. It’d be a shame if that jaw of yours was too sore to chew my famous rasheil-nut curry.”
A hint of red tinged Dev’s brown skin. “Thanks,” he muttered. He smeared a drop of blood on the charm and held it to his jaw. Kiran tried to unobtrusively shift position to get a view of the runes. Ruslan had dismissed healing charms as unworthy of study.
A mage has no need of such trivialities, and should you injure one of the
nathahlen
beyond repair, simply obtain another to suit your purpose. Men without magic are common as grains of sand.
Kiran flinched, thinking of Dev on the cliff. Oh yes, he’d learned Ruslan’s lessons well.
The tiny flutter of magic as Dev’s bruise faded to a shadow conveyed little information. Dev flipped the charm back to Harken before Kiran could think of an excuse to inspect it.
Jerik emerged from the trees with another full water jug. Behind him strolled Cara and Pello, talking and laughing like old friends. Dev greeted them as casually as ever. Cara jerked her chin in a stiff, brusque nod, and walked to the opposite side of the fire. Pello’s gaze flicked between them. His smile edged wider.
Kiran’s stomach tightened. He took care to sit in the shadow of the wagon. Dev showed no sign of nerves around Pello, but Kiran didn’t trust himself to manage the same.
“Real food, thank the gods.” Cara inhaled with a beatific expression. She turned to Pello. “Want to join us for dinner? Harken’s a hell of a cook.”
Pello shook his head. “Much as that would please me, I should return to my own wagon.” He ran his hands through his mop of curls with a longsuffering sigh. “I must inventory my supplies tonight. I fear I didn’t lace my wagon cover tightly enough this morning. An animal got in while I was away working on the rockfall.”
Kiran barely stopped himself from jerking in surprise. He glanced at Dev, who was leaning against the side of the wagon watching Pello with a blandly civil expression. Dev had worked alone that morning, while Kiran slept. He could have searched Pello’s wagon—but why, before they’d secured a carcabon stone? Surely he wouldn’t be so foolish as to put Pello on his guard before they had a real chance of finding the charm.
Dev’s face provided no clues. Kiran tore his gaze away, hoping Pello hadn’t noticed.
“Marmots are the spawn of Shaikar,” Harken said. “Next time, bring a stronger vermin charm. The kind cityfolk buy keep out rats well enough, but not bigger animals.”
“But if you do, remember to stash it this side of the border.” Dev’s one-sided grin made a fleeting appearance. “The Alathians have no sympathy for a convoy man’s troubles.”
Had Pello’s eyes flickered? Kiran leaned forward.
Pello made a rueful face. “Ah, the things one learns too late. We have no such troubles on the southbound route.”
“Yeah? So what brings you westbound?” Dev said, all polite interest.
Pello smiled at him, his dark eyes glinting. “A favor to a friend, as it happens. One of his regular men became unreliable, and he asked me to fill in.” His smile sharpened. “I’m sure you understand, Dev, after your recent experience with unreliable friends.”
“What’s this?” Cara looked back and forth between Dev and Pello. Dev’s expression stayed polite, but Kiran saw his fist clench, low at his side in the wagon’s shadow.
“Surely you heard the sad tale?” Pello’s eyes locked with Dev’s. “It was all over Acaltar district before we left, how Dev’s partner cast him aside like a burned-out charm.”
Cara straightened, her mouth falling open. “Mother of maidens, Dev, that bitch finally cut you loose? No wonder you—” She stopped short.
Dev’s breath hissed out through his teeth. “Yeah, Jylla and I split,” he said, sharply. “Not that it’s anybody’s business but ours.” Kiran winced in sympathy. From the look on Dev’s face, he’d rather crawl through magefire than discuss whatever had happened. Kiran knew how that felt. He bowed his head, fighting back thoughts of Alisa.
“Ah, but when lovers are business partners, that’s where the sadness comes in.” Sympathy dripped from Pello’s voice. “I heard she played you like a wind pipe. You did all the work, while she dallied with half the men in the city. Then she took your accounts and—”