Daughter of Dusk

by Blackburne, Livia

  Robert nudged him closer. “Move them aside slowly.”

  Carefully, Flick got to his knees and began slowly shifting the rocks in the pile. Any time now, Tristam…

  Robert grunted behind him, and Flick felt the man’s grip go slack. He turned around to see Tristam carefully lowering the messenger’s body to the ground. Kyra dropped off the roof, eyed Robert, unconscious on the ground, and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “He’s alive,” said Tristam. “He’ll have a headache when he wakes though.”

  “Cutting it a bit close?” said Flick, shaking out his arms and shoulders. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been.

  “Sorry,” said Tristam. “With that knife drawn on you, I wanted to make sure he didn’t see me coming.”

  Flick plucked Robert’s dagger off the ground and wiped the dust off the blade. “I’m keeping this,” he said. “For my troubles.”

  T W E N T Y - S I X

  They bound Robert tightly and gagged him while Tristam hurried back to the Palace for a wagon. When the messenger awoke, Kyra showed him her dagger.

  “You’ll be quiet,” she said, conjuring her best imitation of James in his more dangerous moments. “And you won’t cause any trouble.” The messenger’s glare could have sparked kindling, but he made no noise.

  A short while later, Tristam pulled up with a wagon full of the fake demon cat heads. “I told them I was going to set up some exercises outside the city,” he said. “I suppose I’ll have to do that now.”

  By pulling the wagon right to the alley, they loaded Robert without attracting too many wayward glances. Flick lay down behind him, holding tight to the ropes that bound Robert’s wrists. Kyra took her place in front of the messenger, and Tristam covered all three of them with demon cat heads. The hemp sacks smelled like mold, and Kyra could feel Robert’s eyes on her in the cramped semidarkness. The messenger exuded fury, and Kyra wondered how they would possibly get him to cooperate before the start of the Demon Rider offensive in seven days.

  After a bumpy and stuffy ride out of the city, Tristam pulled the wagon off the road. Flick left to find his friends, and Kyra and Tristam marched Robert to Kyra’s cave. Their captive walked stoically in front of them, with Tristam’s knife at his back. He was obediently quiet, but his eyes were a bit too keen, and it was with great relief that Kyra saw her cave appear ahead of them.

  Kyra scouted it first, then waved Tristam in when she found it empty. Not much light came in from the mouth, and it took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the darkness. It also smelled slightly of cat, and Kyra wondered if Tristam noticed.

  Tristam ungagged Robert. “You may sit if you’d like,” said Tristam, motioning to the cave wall. The messenger glared at them but carefully lowered himself onto the ground. He pulled his legs away from Kyra when she tried to retie them, but relented after a moment.

  “You’re from the Forge Council?” said Robert. “I didn’t peg that fellow for a Palace man.”

  “We’ll be asking the questions,” Tristam said calmly. “Who sent the message to Willem?”

  Robert’s laugh had a sarcastic edge. “And you expect me to simply lay it all out for you?”

  “No, not immediately. But you will. You looked competent with that dagger, but you’re a messenger and not a soldier. You aren’t sworn to die for your master, and I don’t think you mean to. It might take some time for this to sink in, but you’ll come around.”

  Kyra had been on the receiving end of Tristam’s interrogations not long ago, and it was strange to be on the other side. Tristam didn’t yell or raise his voice, but there was a quiet intensity to the way he spoke that commanded attention. He was also incredibly calm. All their plans hinged on this messenger, but Tristam acted as if he had the upper hand.

  “I don’t believe you’ll kill me,” said Robert.

  “I won’t have to,” said Tristam. “The Council will gladly execute you for me. But if you give us useful information, we might be able to speak on your behalf. I can’t promise you any specific terms to your sentence, but I can promise you far better than what you’ll receive if I turn you in without an admission of guilt. Just tell me which house employs you and whom the message was for.”

  Kyra heard footsteps outside a few moments before Tristam did. They exchanged a glance, and she slipped out. Flick waited a short distance from the cave mouth, shifting his weight from foot to foot. She could have sworn he looked guilty.

  “My friends can help,” he said. “And they’re right behind me.”

  “I see.” Kyra took a few steps closer, wondering at Flick’s manner. “That’s good news, in’t it?” She stopped as Adele, Pashla, and Mela and a man she didn’t recognize came into view. “Flick, that’s—”

  At that moment, Tristam stepped out of the cave. He took one look at the newcomers and reached for his sword.

  “There’s no need, Tristam,” said Flick. “These are the friends I mentioned.”

  Tristam had gone rigid. He drew breath sharply to speak, then looked back at the cave mouth. His voice was low when he spoke again, but no less angry. “You didn’t mention that your friends were Demon Riders.”

  “I know,” said Flick. He spoke carefully, though there was no hint of apology in his manner. “They’re good to help, but you don’t have to accept it.”

  Kyra looked from Flick to Tristam and back again, trying to ignore a feeling of betrayal that was trickling into her consciousness. She wasn’t sure what bothered her more, that Flick had obviously hidden this plan from her, or that he’d been the one to think of it when Kyra shared their blood.

  Pashla nodded to Kyra in greeting, then looked at Tristam. “I didn’t know the knight would be here,” she said to Adele.

  “I have a name,” said Tristam, his voice taut.

  “Tristam of Brancel,” Pashla said lightly. While her tone didn’t exactly convey disrespect, neither did she assign much importance to the utterance. The tension in the circle was palpable, and Kyra couldn’t quell the feeling that things were about to unravel. She didn’t know what Flick’s game was, and the thought of her old friend doing anything behind her back bothered her more than she cared to admit.

  It was Adele who spoke first. “Flick tells me that we need this prisoner if we want to stop Forge from sending soldiers into the forest. We will guard him for you. You have our word that he will not escape,” she said.

  “Your word?” said Tristam. “And what’s that worth?” Kyra had to look away at the raw animosity in his voice. If she’d had any doubt as to how he felt about her kin…

  “We’re skilled at watching prisoners, and we’re skilled fighters,” said Pashla. “This, you should know, since you’ve been one of our captives, and you’ve seen how easily we can kill your kind.”

  Kyra looked to Pashla in disbelief. Was she deliberately goading Tristam, or did she simply not realize what effect her words would have?

  Tristam took a step toward Pashla, drawing his sword. “I stood by while you murdered two of my comrades. I will not stand by while you mock their deaths.”

  “No!” Kyra reached for him as Pashla took a step back. The Demon Riders to either side of her untied their belts.

  “Stop now!” Flick could be deafening when he wanted to be, and his shout reverberated through the trees. Everybody froze, and he planted himself between Tristam and Pashla. “We’ve got the same goals here and enough at stake so that we can’t afford to fall apart amongst ourselves.”

  Tristam’s sword hovered a finger’s width from Flick’s throat. Adele’s features blurred and re-formed as she looked between the two of them.

  Kyra finally found her voice. “Tristam,” she said softly, almost apologetically. “I think Flick’s right. The Makvani could do a better job of guarding him than I could by myself.”

  Tristam’s face was still tight with anger. “Can I have a word, Flick?” he said.

  “Aye,” said Flick, resigned.

  Tristam lowered his blade, and the tw
o walked into the trees with the wariness of men about to start a duel. Kyra wondered if she should step in. Both Tristam and Flick knew how high the stakes were. They wouldn’t come to blows over this, would they?

  “Your friend holds long grudges,” came Pashla’s low voice at her ear.

  Kyra could feel a headache starting to form right in the middle of her forehead, and she found she didn’t have the patience for caution or tact. “You killed two of his friends, Pashla. That’s more than a grudge to get over.”

  “They were killed in battle,” said Pashla calmly, as if that settled the matter.

  Flick and Tristam were arguing and gesticulating, though Kyra couldn’t make out the words. At one point, Flick gestured in their direction, and she got the clear impression that he pointed to her rather than the Demon Riders near her. A short while later, her friends returned. Tristam’s eyes still flashed, and Flick had the look of someone who’d just weathered a hard storm.

  “Everything all right?” Kyra asked. She’d have her own words with Flick later, but right now she just wanted to keep everything from falling apart.

  “We accept your help,” said Tristam to the Demon Riders.

  “We are, in fact, grateful for it,” added Flick. Tristam’s expression remained stony. “And I have clothes for the guards to change into. Seems it would be prudent not to let”—he jerked his head toward the cave—“know about, uh”—he gestured toward the Makvani.

  Things progressed quickly after that. Kyra set up a guard schedule with the Demon Riders while Tristam questioned Robert further. The messenger didn’t give him any useful information, but Tristam didn’t seem surprised.

  “He needs some time to think. They always do,” Tristam said to Kyra as he prepared to leave. He’d calmed down since the confrontation earlier, and Kyra had seen him thank Adele for the Makvani’s help.

  “I certainly needed some time,” said Kyra, thinking back to her interrogation and imprisonment at the Palace.

  Tristam’s eyes went cautiously over her face, and only after searching her features did he relax and meet her eyes. “You know, I still feel guilty about how I treated you,” he said.

  She smiled wryly up at him. “Why ever for? We’ve been through enough together. No reason to dwell on past misunderstandings.”

  They looked at one another, sharing for a moment the memory of when they’d faced off over the interrogation table. And though they had hated each other at the time, thinking back on it now brought Kyra comfort. It was a reason for hope, she supposed, that two people at odds could come so far.

  Finally, Tristam looked down. “I should go,” he said. “I’ll be back when I can. Keep him well fed and sheltered. We need him to believe us when we say we can protect him.”

  Kyra let out a long, slow breath as she watched Tristam walk away. When he finally disappeared, she covered her eyes with the heel of her hands and arched her back, trying to loosen up her muscles. Footsteps crunched in the snow, and she opened her eyes to see Flick walking toward her, for all the world looking like a dog who’d been caught ransacking the family kitchen.

  “So,” he said. “Are you ready to yell at me now?”

  That was all the encouragement Kyra needed.

  “What were you thinking?” She rounded on him, venting all the tension and betrayal she’d been feeling. “They could have slaughtered each other in front of that cave.”

  Flick bore her words, making no attempt to interrupt her.

  “Why’d you do it?” she asked, throwing up her arms. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She looked back toward the Demon Riders by the cave. “And have you become bosom friends with Pashla, too?” She finally admitted it. She was jealous of her friend, who picked up allies wherever he went, while it seemed she herself only found more enemies.

  She ran out of words and settled for glaring at Flick, who stirred when he realized she was done.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he said, subdued. “I knew Tristam wouldn’t agree if I asked him beforehand, and if I’d told you, you’d have been forced to decide whether you wanted to hide it from him. This way, the blame fell squarely on me.” He took a breath. “I don’t know Pashla well at all. Adele was the one I asked for help, and she found the others.”

  “And you just decided this was the right thing to do?” Kyra said.

  “Can you think of anyone else who could have helped us?”

  She couldn’t, really, but she wasn’t ready to let him off the hook. “Just because things didn’t explode today doesn’t mean they won’t tomorrow.”

  “I know. But it’s worth it.” Flick spoke with surprising conviction, and Kyra wondered at it. He sank down onto a fallen log. After a moment, Kyra grudgingly followed his lead.

  “Why?” she asked.

  Flick stared down at his hands, massaging the knuckles of his right hand with his left. “Call me foolish, I suppose, but I think it might do some good to work together with these people. I’ve had a few run-ins with the Makvani now. Truth is, they do look on us humans as something below their regard. But I’m realizing that it’s different when they see you face-to-face. That’s why I don’t think those folk by the cave will hurt me, even if their clanmate was wounded by a soldier this morning. I’m no longer a nameless human to them. And I wonder, if more of them actually spent time with us, maybe something could come out of it.”

  “You think we could avoid a war?”

  Flick sighed and absentmindedly broke a twig off the fallen tree. “I don’t think Adele’s eager for a fight, and some of the others aren’t either. I mean, I’m not naïve. I know this will only make a small difference. But it’s better than nothing, in’t it?”

  His face had such an optimistic cast that Kyra found it hard to hold her grudge. “I hope you’re right,” she said. “And I hope Tristam can get over what happened today and trust us again.”

  “Tristam, in particular, needs to get over his fears.”

  There was a layer of meaning in Flick’s tone that caught Kyra’s attention. “Why? What do you mean?”

  “Oh.” For the first time, Flick stumbled on his words. “I just mean…”

  And Kyra remembered how Flick had pointed at her when he argued with Tristam. The pieces fell together, and she looked incredulously at Flick. “You’re not trying to put me and Tristam together, are you? You’ve been against it from the beginning.”

  “I was wrong,” Flick said. “I admit it. Tristam’s a decent fellow. He’s not my da, and you are not my ma. I probably should have realized that sooner, and I worry that something I said might have swayed you against him.”

  Kyra put a hand to her temple. Of all the times for Flick to come around…“You were wrong about him,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter. He’s still a nobleman, and he has duties to his family.”

  “That might be true,” said Flick. “But he in’t married yet, and who knows what might happen? Things are changing, Kyra. I don’t think we can take anything for granted anymore.”

  Kyra wondered if the fight with the messenger had muddled Flick’s brain. But then she followed Flick’s gaze to where Adele stood arm in arm with Mela, and she finally understood.

  She jabbed her elbow into his rib cage. “Someone’s changed your mind, Flick. And it wasn’t Tristam.”

  He saw where she was looking and gave a sheepish smile. “I suppose one’s view on forbidden romance changes when it no longer concerns other people.”

  Even though Kyra had suspected something, it still surprised her to hear Flick confirm it so readily. It hadn’t been that long since they’d met, had it? “Is it…mutual between the two of you?” she asked.

  He shrugged, eyes still on her. “I’m only now learning their ways. I don’t even think they all ‘take mates,’ as they call it. She’d need the permission of the clan leader. But she enjoys my company, and I’ve grown rather fond of hers. She’s been bringing her friends to meet me. It’s been…quite an adventure.”

  “What will you
do?” Kyra asked.

  He shrugged. “Who knows what will happen tomorrow or next week, with things the way they are. But we’ll live things out day by day. It’s all we can do, really.” He had a gentleness to his voice that tugged at Kyra’s heart.

  As if sensing Kyra and Flick talking about her, Adele turned and gave a slight smile. Flick waved.

  “In that case, I wish you two the best,” said Kyra, giving Flick’s shoulders a quick squeeze. Kyra stood and dusted off her clothes, then turned a mischievous eye back toward him. “I do have one question though.”

  “What?”

  “Are you sure you’re not smitten with Adele simply because you saw her without her clothes? She does have a lovely figure.”

  “All right. That’s it.” Flick rolled up his sleeves and lunged for Kyra, ignoring her squeals as he caught her in a bear hug from behind. “I think you need some lessons in respecting your elders.” And he methodically began to turn her upside down. Kyra yelled something about things dropping out of her pockets, but she was laughing too hard for any coherent words to come out. She scrabbled at Flick’s legs behind her head, wondering at how the trees looked so much taller from this angle, when she saw the Demon Riders making their way toward the commotion.

  “Everything’s fine,” said Flick. “This is how we show love in our family.”

  And Kyra didn’t have the breath to contradict him.

  T W E N T Y - S E V E N

  Tristam tried not to worry as Robert held out, but the calendar was not on his side. As the date of the offensive ticked closer, units started taking position outside the city, and news of clashes with the Demon Riders came in daily. On his third trip to the cave, Tristam noticed that some of the Demon Riders had dyed the skin of their fingers red. When he asked Kyra about it, she coughed uncomfortably and told him that it was their tradition to do so before battle.

  “That bad?” said Tristam.

  “They’re expecting a war,” said Kyra.