by Kyra Dune
“So he told everyone my mother had died and he said to me that I had to act like it was true or people would look down on us and we would be treated differently. He made me promise. Said if I was his good girl, if I loved him, I wouldn’t tell the truth. So I didn’t, and to this day even Pytaki believes it. He has no idea she abandoned us.”
Tech nodded. “I think I understand you a little better now.”
“Good, then maybe you can explain myself to me sometime. But, not now. Right now all I want to do is get out of this house.” She also wanted a little truth from him, but she thought that could wait until they were safely back at Alansa’s. There was only so much truth she could handle all at once.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Ready to tell me the whole story now?” Micayta asked.
Tech sank down beside the hearth with a sigh. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
Micayta sat beside him. She was glad to be back in the real world, with its gray sky and constant snowfall. Glad even to be back within the relatively safe walls of Alansa’ house. She was also feeling much better and hoping that the answers she was seeking from Tech wouldn’t change that.
“The truth is usually a good place to start,” she said. “Or so I’ve been told.”
Tech didn’t smile at her weak attempt at humor. “My relationship with Demos is much closer than I let on. I…ahhh, this is so hard. Alansa was completely right and I couldn’t admit to it until it was almost too late.” He met her gaze.
“You are different, in more ways than you know. And maybe, just maybe, you’re making me different.”
“What are you talking about?” Micayta asked. “Different than what?”
“You and Pytaki aren’t the first survivors I’ve brought to Phadra; there have been others.” He clasped his hands in his lap. “It…it’s a game, like I said, I just didn’t tell you my part in it.
“Demos gets bored. He likes a bit of a challenge to go along with his love of mindless destruction. So, after he attacks a town, he sends me to…find survivors and bring them here under the pretense of helping me destroy him. So he can…can play with them.”
Micayta stared at him. All the things she’d been feeling since her most recent brush with death rushed through her, mingling with the horror his confession had aroused. “Why? Why would you do that?”
“It-it’s complicated.”
“Complicated?” Micayta rose to her feet. It was a lie, all a lie. She’d allowed herself to open up a little, to take the smallest of risks, and this was what she got for it. “That isn’t an answer. And this,” she pulled the sphere from her pocket, “what is this? A toy? Another part of the game?”
“No, the sphere is real. It comes from the same place as I do, from Cooris. It’s how Demos crossed from our world to this one, it–”
“How did he get it?”
“He…,” Tech dropped his gaze to his lap. “He stole it.”
“With your help, I’d wager. If any of this is true. Which I doubt.” She started to turn away, her vision blurred by hot tears.
Tech reached out and grabbed hold of her arm. “Please, I didn’t mean it. I made a mistake. I fell for Demos’ lies, his promises, and I paid dearly for it. I lost my brother, my world, and myself in the bargain. If I could take it all back, if I could change it, I would.”
She looked down at him. “So why do you do it then? Why keep playing his games this way? Why not stand up and say no if you hate it so much?”
“If I did that he would kill Alansa to punish me. I can’t let that happen. She’s the only promise I have left. The only part of my world that isn’t dead. Can you understand that?”
“You love her that much, that you would destroy innocent lives to keep her safe?”
“Love her?” Tech shook his head as he started to rise. “Micayta, I–”
“Stop.” She pulled free of his grasp. “I’m done with you and Demos and this thing.” She dropped the sphere on the floor at his feet. “It’s over. Finished. You can tell your master that I’m done playing his twisted games.”
“Micayta, please, I–”
She backed away from him. “Don’t come near me or my brother again, or, so help me, I will kill you. I swear it.”
She turned and, with as much strength as she could muster, marched down the hall to the kitchen. Alansa and Pytaki were sitting together at the table. They were staring at the door as she entered, and she supposed they must have heard the pitch of the argument, if not the actual words.
“Is everything all right?” Alansa asked.
Micayta ignored her. “Get up, Pytaki. It’s time for us to go.”
“What?” He made a face. “Why?”
“We’re done here.” A great pressure was building up in her head and all she wanted was to hit something. Preferably, Tech’s lying, treacherous face. “Let’s go.”
Pytaki glanced at Alansa. “But what about the dragon? Aren’t we going to…you know, kill him?”
“Tech has everything he needs to take care of Demos by himself. He knows more about dragons than we do.”
“Micayta–”
She shot Alansa a warning look. “Thank you, for all you’ve done for us. I hope you and Tech get exactly what you both deserve.”
Alansa pressed her lips together.
“He’s not going to say goodbye?” Pytaki’s expression was that of a wounded child.
He’d be a lot more wounded if he knew the truth. “Why should he bother? I did what he needed me to do. That’s all this was about.”
“But,” he glanced at Alansa again, “I thought…well he was nice to be around almost like….” Blushing, he let the words trail off as he dropped his gaze to the table.
“Like your father?” Alansa asked.
Pytaki nodded. “Sort of.”
Micayta shot Alansa a dirty look. “Tech is nothing to us. Not even a friend. He needed our help, that’s it. That’s the way things are.”
“But I thought…I don’t know, I guess maybe that he could take our father’s place, like you took mother’s.”
His words sent a shock through Micayta that she was unprepared for. She took a step back, as close as she’d ever been to telling him the truth, but was too stunned to speak. All this emotion, she didn’t want to deal with it. She wanted only to bury it and forget.
“What?” Pytaki asked. “What did I say?”
Micayta turned away from him, clutching the counter behind her so tightly the wood bit into her skin. “It’s not the same thing.”
“But you like him too, don’t you?”
Damn him, couldn’t he ever shut up? “I told you, he wants us to leave and that’s exactly what we’re going to do. So go and get our things.”
“Maybe we could stay anyway. He might change his mind. He might need more help. Couldn’t we–”
Micayta squeezed her eyes shut. “For once in your life, just shut up and do what I say.”
There was a moment of silence, then the sound of a chair scraping across the floor followed by footsteps as he left the kitchen. Micayta took a ragged breath. How could she have made such a huge mistake? She’d let herself slip and now she was paying for it.
Alansa rose from her seat and came around the table. “Tech told you something, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
Micayta glared at her. “Enough.”
“I think not, considering how you’re acting.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re angry now, and hurt, so I think that Tech tried to tell you something that was difficult for him to say and you didn’t let him finish. But I could fill in the blank spaces, if you’ll only calm down and listen.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Micayta pushed away from the counter. “I don’t care.”
“I’ve never seen a look like that on the face of someone who doesn’t care.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mi
cayta turned toward the door. “My brother and I are leaving, now.
We’re through with all of you.” She strode out the door.
Pytaki was standing in the hall, staring at the front door.
“What are you doing?” Micayta asked. “I thought I told you to get our stuff.”
Pytaki whirled around at the sound of her voice, flushing as he stuffed something into his pocket. “Sorry.” He hurried past her toward the bedroom.
Micayta was too angry to pay much attention, or to have much interest, in whatever he’d put in his pocket. She wanted out of this house. Out of this whole city. The coin she had left from selling the horse wouldn’t be enough to get them all the things they would need, but she thought she knew where she could go to ask for help. Not that she was looking forward to it.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“I don’t understand why you have to go see him.” Pytaki sat on the bed with his arms crossed, frowning. After leaving Alansa’s house they had returned to the tavern.
“We’ve been over this enough already. We need his help.”
“But he’s so…so…I don’t know, but I don’t like him.”
“Neither do I.” Micayta ran a hand through her hair, wishing she had a brush and a mirror. She also wished she had her old clothes back. Somehow the thought of doing what she was about to do while wearing the clothes Tech had bought her made her distinctly uncomfortable.
“Then why are you getting all…” Pytaki waved his hand at her, making a sour face.
Micayta knew what he meant. The blue dress would have been better, but she thought she’d done well enough with what she had. And certainly these new clothes fit better than her old ones had. “Look, Py, you’re getting old enough to understand these kinds of things. Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do to get what you need.”
“But you’re not going t-to,” he flushed, “you know…do that, are you?”
“No.” She pulled on her cloak and lifted the hood over her head. “I’m only going to flirt a little.” The idea was so distasteful that she couldn’t help but make a face. She wasn’t sure she even knew how to flirt, but she supposed she could work it out as she went along.
“Stay put while I’m gone, okay?” She pulled her gloves on. “Keep the door locked.”
“I know, I know, don’t let anybody in.” He looked down at his hands. “What if Tech comes?”
Micayta hesitated. “Don’t answer the door. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Pytaki looked up at her. “I don’t like this. Jaysir could be dangerous. Are you sure there isn’t a better way?”
Micayta smiled as she patted her dagger. “I can take care of myself.” Then, on an impulse that surprised them both,
she hugged him. “You know I love you, right?”
“Sure. I love you too.”
She stepped back and straightened the clasp at her throat. “How do I look?”
“Like you.” He smiled a half smile as she swatted his shoulder. “You look pretty. Just be careful with this guy, okay?”
“I’m always careful. You behave yourself.”
He grinned. “Don’t I always?”
With a roll of her eyes, she shook her head. “I wish.” She turned toward the door.
“Micayta?”
She paused with her hand on the knob. “What?”
“I-I want you take this.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small, gray stone.
Micayta frowned. “What is it?”
“It-it’s something for good luck.” He refused to meet her gaze, staring instead at his feet.
“Where did you get it?”
He met her eyes, his look pleading. “Can’t you just take it? Don’t you trust me?”
Micayta started to say something, hesitated. Did she trust him? But of course she did. He was her brother. She took the stone and slipped it into her pocket. “There, happy?”
He nodded, though he didn’t exactly look happy.
Downstairs, a few tables near the fireplace were occupied, mostly by men, though there was one couple in the far corner. A thin woman in a faded apron bustled about, serving drinks and bowls of steaming stew.
As Micayta passed the bar, she glanced toward the men gathered around the tables, looking for a distinct pair of gray eyes. But Tech wasn’t there. And why should he be? She’d said she didn’t want anything more to do with him and she’d meant it.
The streets were crowded with people seeking to finish their daily business before nightfall. Micayta pressed her way through, hardly paying attention to the faces she passed, hoping that she too could have her business done well before nightfall. She also hoped that a little flirting would be all that it took to secure herself the supplies she would need for them to make it at least as far as the sea.
When Micayta reached the door to the garrison, she was stopped by two guards. “Please state your name and business here.”
“Micayta. I’m here to see Commander Enfargo.”
The men exchanged a glance, then one of them opened the door and preceded her inside. “Right this way.”
Micayta followed him through the winding halls to a spacious room with gold colored tiles on the floor. There was a blazing fireplace against the far wall and in the center of the room sat a table with a white cloth draped over it. Several covered trays waited, grouped in a circle around a burning candle.
“The commander will be with you shortly.” The man then closed the door, leaving her momentarily alone.
She dropped the hood of her cloak and eyed the table. It was a little annoying that Jaysir had been so assured that she was coming that he’d made the presumption of setting up what was so obviously intended to be a romantic dinner. It made her doubly glad for the dagger strapped to her side.
The door opened and Micayta turned, pasting on a smile as Jaysir stepped into the room. As always, everything about him was meticulous, from his perfectly coiffed hair to the shine on his boots. And he was handsome, there was no denying that, broad at the shoulder and well-muscled without being bulky. But Micayta suspected the little shiver that went down her spine had more to do with the way he was looking at her than with anything she might feel for him.
“I’m so glad you could come.” He flashed that oh-so-charming smile. “Please, have a seat.” He indicated the table. “I hope you like the meal I had prepared.”
“I’m sure I will.” Micayta settled in at the table while Jaysir proceeded to remove the lids from the trays.
The smell that wafted up was intoxicating; roast meats, fresh breads, steamed vegetables, fruit, and, of course, some fantastic looking desserts. It was more food than Micayta had ever seen and her stomach rumbled at the sight of it.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come.” Jaysir poured them both a glass of wine, then took the seat opposite hers.
“Oh? And why is that?” She stuck her fork into a piece of meat and slid it onto her plate, reminding herself to eat calmly and not act like she’d never seen food before.
“Tech doesn’t like me much and I thought since the two of you are such good friends he might have talked you out of coming.”
Micayta scooped some potatoes from a bowl. “We aren’t friends.”
“You aren’t? I assumed, since you were there at his house…”
“I was there to see Alansa. I thought it best to go to a healer after I was attacked.”
“Yes, of course.” Jaysir set about filling his own plate. “How did you end up there? There are certainly other healers in the city. Some much closer to where you were attacked.”
Micayta lifted a fork full of meat to her mouth and chewed slowly before answering. “I don’t know the city well and it was you who told me what a gifted healer Alansa is.”
“So I did.” He smiled as he lifted his glass. “And that was when you met Tech?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” Jaysir sat his glass back down. “You know, speaking of your attack, there’s a very w
ealthy man who lives down the road from where that happened. Demos is his name. He came by the garrison earlier today to report that he’d had a priceless object stolen from his house.
“Strange coincidence, don’t you think?”
Micayta choked on her potato and had to take a drink of wine to help it down.
“Are you all right?” Jaysir leaned toward her with a look of concern.
“Fine,” Micayta gasped. She took another sip of wine simply to give herself something to do. Did he know? Was that at all possible? And if he did, how much did he know? She sat the wine glass back down and wiped a napkin across her lips. The wine was too sweet and it was making her a little lightheaded. Despite having worked in a tavern for several years, Micayta was unused to drinking.
“Do you suppose it was the same person?” she asked.
“Too soon to tell. Theft is not uncommon in a city this size; it’s entirely possible the crimes were committed by two different people.” He poured himself another glass of wine. “But this is nothing for us to be talking about. Tell me, have you made a decision about working at the laundry?”
This was it. A little earlier in the evening than she’d planned, but perhaps that was better. “Actually, I was thinking of moving on.”
“More wine?” He lifted the bottle toward her; she shook her head. “That’s a pity. That you’re thinking of moving on, I mean. You don’t care for our city?”
“Oh no, it’s a lovely city. But I’m thinking of going south, to the sea.” She wasn’t sure why she told him the truth. Maybe because she could think of no lie that sounded believable. Perhaps it was something else.
He chuckled. “Forgive me, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s only that I’ve heard this story so many times. Everyone thinks south is the answer.” He shook his head. “You won’t find anything out there but more snow. Even if you make it to the sea, it’s not likely you’re going to find any kind of ship at all, let alone one willing or able to carry you and your brother to some distant shore. I can’t tell you what to do, but I really think you’d be better off to stay here.”
