Silverlight

by Jesberger, S. L.

“Yes, you did.” I pointed at the spot where the girl had knelt. “Do you understand what the sight of that poor child did to my insides? I knew firsthand what her future looked like because I’d lived it.” I wasn’t taking in enough air to compensate for the speed of the words coming out of my mouth. I staggered and slumped against the oak. “Don’t you dare tell me I give up too easily. I’ll kill you without a second thought.”

  “I didn’t . . . I had no . . .”

  “Quiet. Not another word.” I loosed a breath, my heart racing. “Did you think Garai composed sonnets and brought me flowers? Did you think he tucked me in at night when he finished with me? Do you know what happens to women in captivity?” I let go of a short, derisive laugh. “No, of course you don’t. You’ve never seen it for yourself. It doesn’t trouble your sleep at all.”

  We stared at each other for several long moments. I finally sheathed my sword. “I’m leaving. I’m packing my clothes and my sword, and I’m leaving. I’m taking a horse from the stable so I can put a good distance between us before nightfall. I’ll send it back with Jarl. Thank you, at least, for the kindness you’ve shown me.” I gave him a slight bow. “You’re a right proper bastard, Magnus Tyrix. I don’t ever want to see you again.” I headed toward the house as fast as I could.

  “Kymber, please don’t leave. I didn’t think. I never meant to hurt you. I swear I didn’t! I’m sorry.” He sounded like a wounded child.

  I stopped but didn’t turn. Sorry. What did that mean? I had to protect my heart. If I didn’t, who would?

  “I love you,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

  I let his admission hang in the air for a moment before I answered, shocked at the venom in my voice. “If you truly loved me – if you’d truly been listening – you wouldn’t have done this.”

  32: MAGNUS

  “Tomas! Are you out there?”

  I stared at the back of the heavy dresser through the open privy door. Evidently, Kymber was much stronger than she looked.

  My stomach churned. Making a bad situation worse had always been my special talent. I’d just found her. I didn’t want her to go.

  Begging, pleading, I’d followed her upstairs. As she silently gathered her things with brutal efficiency, I again made the colossal mistake of telling her I’d set up the confrontation with the false slaver for her own good.

  I’d gotten away with saying it once. I was not so lucky twice.

  I had no weapon. Swearing through clenched teeth, she’d forced me into the privy at sword point, slammed the door shut, and dragged every dresser and bureau in the room across the entrance. The furniture was at least three layers deep out there. I could’ve lowered myself out the window, but I knew better than to attempt an escape while she was packing.

  After a few tense moments of muffled bangs and slams, it went quiet.

  I scrubbed my face with both hands and dropped to my knees. “You idiot. You’ve lost her. The love of your life. Idiot!”

  I knew very well Garai hadn’t composed sonnets or brought her flowers. The scars, the hand, the cage. I’d watched her struggle with her memories. She was sleeping in my bed because of the nightmares. Why was I so damned blind?

  Her experiences had honestly felt abstract to me, as though they’d happened to someone else. I was just so grateful she was here, alive and talking, that I didn’t listen. Why didn’t I listen?

  I pounded my fists against the side of my head, the agony of loss devouring me.

  I was sure a young girl in trouble would light a fire inside her. And it had, but I’d hit her hard – betrayed her – by using her experiences against her. Gods, I was no better than my lying brother.

  I sat back and stared at the wall, my chest in knots. I had no right to go after her. Perhaps she’d calm down and come back. Mere words wouldn’t be enough, but I’d be waiting with a sincere apology if she did.

  I just had to get out of the damned privy first.

  33: KYMBER

  After securing Magnus in the privy, I grabbed my things and stalked down the stairs.

  Yes, I knew Magnus had procured my clothing and sword for me. Perhaps I should’ve left them there, but I needed them. I wasn’t feeling particularly reasonable or magnanimous at the moment.

  I chose a gray mare from the stable, tacked her up with reins and a bit, and threw a sheepskin over her back. I preferred to ride that way anyway. I’d always thought saddles were pretentious.

  I led her out of the barn and ran straight into Tomas.

  “Here now! Where are you going with that horse?” he shouted, waving his finger in the air, though he made no move to come closer.

  “I’m leaving.” I pulled my sword. “Stand aside.”

  “I will not.” He stiffened. “Where is Magnus? Does he know you’re stealing his horse?”

  I didn’t want to explain what I’d done. It was none of his business anyway. I leapt onto the mare and headed toward Adamar at a full gallop, Tomas’s indignant shouts ringing in my ears.

  I stopped after a while and dismounted. I’d been in such a hurry to leave that I hadn’t thought of taking food from the kitchen. Nor did I have money. I didn’t care so much about the food but being without coin complicated the situation.

  No matter. I’d sell the horse when I got to Adamar if I had to. I didn’t owe Magnus a damned thing.

  I sighed and sat down beside a rock along the road. That was anger talking. I owed Magnus my life.

  I understood why he’d done it. That training method was often used on the students at T’hath with glorious results. I truly did respond to provocation by hitting back hard. Nothing was off limits, including family, but it hadn’t felt cruel or hurtful then. It made me strong, ready for anything. I enjoyed digging deep for that extra spark of strength.

  Why did this hurt so much?

  His little ruse truly had forced me up to the next level. I fought as though I were the one bound and kneeling on the ground. Isn’t that what we’d both wanted? Well, it was what he wanted, but I was happy just swinging a sword on his beautiful beach or up behind the house. I never intended to fight again.

  Maybe that was the difference. Training was one thing, but I had fought, really fought, for the young girl by the fountain. I was eighteen summers when Garai took me. She was no older than fourteen – too damned young to be abused the way I was.

  I didn’t want to be the defender of kidnapped girls. I didn’t want to be anyone’s defender but my own, but…

  What if everyone looked the other way when evil reared its ugly head? If I didn’t fight for the defenseless, who would?

  Damn you, Magnus. I was not quite as angry with him as I had been, but I still didn’t want to go back to Seacrest. Perhaps I’d just ride into Adamar and have a look around. I hoped Jarl Aldi wouldn’t mind playing host to my new friend, Lady Gray, and me.

  I mounted the mare again, wondering if I’d found a purpose.

  Were there other captive women locked away in Calari?

  Could I help them?

  The city of Adamar lay before me, a thin line of dark buildings against a gold and violet sky. The night was humid and warm; stars had begun to flicker in the twilight. Lady Gray neighed a question at me when I dismounted.

  “We’re going to walk the rest of the way,” I said in response. “It will be good for both of us. You’ll get me off your back, and I can use the time to think about how I feel.”

  The horse nickered and tossed her head. It sounded as though she were scolding me.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think he means to be an ass. At least not all the time, but you’re right.” I sighed. “He meant well, but he should’ve known better.” I lifted a tearful gaze to the stars overhead.

  My life had certainly followed a twisted path. I began life unwanted, but fate had placed me as an infant on the doorstep of T’hath, the best possible place to grow up.

  It had been enough then. Why did I feel so restless now?

  Perhaps it
was because I’d never been this far south. Perhaps it was because I’d come to the conclusion that I was just a small drop of water in a very large ocean.

  The continent of Calari had been the subject of many long and boring lectures in T’hath classrooms, but I never realized how vast this land was. A map in a book was one thing. Seeing it for oneself was quite another.

  I’d rarely been outside the borders of Aestakor, preferring to stay near Jalartha and T’hath and everything I held dear. I hadn’t realized just how deep my roots were, how much I’d loved the place. Perhaps that’s why I’d headed for home after I’d escaped, though I knew it would be the first place Garai and Tariq looked for me. They didn’t disappoint.

  I suppose it was the sense of belonging, of working toward a greater good. I was, after all, the only female to ever part the mysterious curtains of the T’hath Academy, once Calari’s training ground for excellence.

  Our students came from every corner of the land to study with us: green recruits, misfits, men the size of small bulls. We sent them home as skilled fighters. Some of the men went on to be mercenaries, though no one truly knew how many. Most of the graduates went home to train militias in their own kingdoms.

  My parents tried to keep me away from the men and the fighting. They might as well have tried to stop the sun from rising. There was just something about a gleaming sword that spoke to me.

  Swords were off limits, of course, but I finally stole one from my oldest brother Portis and went to work inside my family’s horse barn. It was a ceremonial blade – too large and too heavy – but I had a more potent weapon.

  Sheer force of will.

  My brother Daxal noticed all the deep cuts on the barn’s wooden beams and hid inside one of the stalls, hoping to catch the person doing the damage. He’d had no idea his little sister was responsible.

  The day he caught me was the turning point for my six-year-old self. Daxal grabbed me by the scruff of my tunic and quickly disarmed me, then dragged me back to my parents.

  Every person in my family took a turn at scolding me, but I wasn’t about to give up once I’d held a blade in my hand. I gave free rein to defiance, clinging to the fence surrounding the training yard, screaming at the top of my lungs every time my brothers tried to pull me off.

  My exasperated father allowed me to train outside the fence with a wooden practice sword when I turned eight, certain it would be too strenuous for me. The instructors were soon chiding him to allow me inside. I was as good as any of the students, they said, and Father reluctantly agreed.

  Some of the recruits didn’t take it well, of course. I suppose no man enjoys being bested by a woman. Most of the men were able to look past my gender, but Magnus . . . that cocky bastard had looked straight into my heart.

  I still don’t know what it was about him. About us. He was so damned sure I’d fall for him. I was just as arrogant, playing the game by his twisted rules for the sole purpose of crushing his heart beneath my boot.

  We were nothing but children then. Innocents. There were so many hard miles under our feet now. We’d been chewed up and spit out by life.

  What would I find in Adamar? Perhaps the better question was whom would I find? I stared at the distant town and fingered the leather reins as apprehension whispered in my ear.

  Magnus and I weren’t done yet. Not as a couple, nor as a team. Fate had brought us together for a reason. This battle wasn’t over. Somehow, our enemies knew we’d found each other.

  They’d be coming for us.

  Magnus’s slaver trick was cruel and uncalled for and . . . Well, I’d right that wrong some other time. Now, I stared at the lights of Adamar and sensed danger. If I’d had any brains, I would’ve turned right around and gone back to Seacrest. Alone, I was vulnerable.

  Still, I had an uncanny sense of destiny. Adamar pulled me, wanting me to take possession of something, but what? My life? The future?

  Too many questions, and I was exhausted. Jarl would open his door to me. He’d lend me a sympathetic ear, and that’s just what I needed. I might yet find that elusive perspective.

  “Let’s go, Lady Gray.” I tugged on the reins. The horse nickered softly, reluctant to move. “I know. I sense it too. There’s something out there, but I don’t have time to ponder it. We have to hurry. The sun will be down by the time we get to Jarl’s place, and I don’t want to be caught out in the dark.”

  34: KYMBER

  It was still light enough to see when I finally got to Jarl Aldi’s front door and knocked. “Jarl, are you up there? It’s Kymber.”

  A candle floated to the window; I saw his concerned face reflected in the light. The door cracked open a few moments later. “Kymber? What are you doing in Adamar at this hour?” Jarl set his jaw and swung the door wide. “And whose horse is that?”

  “She belongs to Magnus. Is there somewhere I can put her for the night?”

  “There’s a stable out back.”

  I gave him my best orphan-waif look. “Do you have room for me inside, or should I stay in the stable too? I’d appreciate a blanket or two if I have to sleep outside.”

  Jarl sighed. “I wouldn’t make you sleep in the stable. Come upstairs when you get her settled.”

  I nodded and towed Lady Gray into the narrow alley between his office and the next building.

  I climbed the stairs up to Jarl’s rooms, wondering what I should tell him about Magnus and me. There was no point in trying to hide what happened. Jarl knew both of us too well.

  I opened the door to his reading room and peered in. He was sitting in an overstuffed chair in the corner with a book in his lap, his glasses perched low on his nose. The look he gave me was typical Jarl Aldi: stern and sympathetic all at the same time. I stepped the rest of the way inside and closed the door behind me.

  “What are you doing here?” He turned the oil lamp beside him up a notch, bathing the room in a warm golden light. “And with Little Doll, one of Magnus’s best horses. Does he know you have her?”

  “No, but Tomas does. He’ll tell him, I’m sure.” I sat on the divan across from him and folded my hands between my knees.

  “I see disappointment.” Jarl removed his glasses and placed them on the book he’d laid on the table. “And a smidgen of anger. What happened?”

  “Magnus crossed a line today.” An understatement of the highest order. The memory of that poor girl on her knees still gave me chills.

  “Does he know that?”

  “He does now.”

  Jarl scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Start at the beginning, if you please.”

  “I’m not sure I can discuss it yet. Maybe tomorrow. I just need a place to stay tonight, and…and I wanted to tell you goodbye. Will you return the horse to Magnus?”

  Jarl’s eyes widened a bit. “Where are you going?” He asked softly, as though I were a wayward daughter making a questionable decision.

  “Back to Jalartha.”

  “Why? What’s there for you? Magnus said you were living in a cave. He said thieves were about kill you–”

  “All right!” I waved my hands to silence him. “Maybe not Jalartha. I have plenty of time to think about where I’m going as I’m walking.”

  Jarl leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees, and shook his head. “I don’t know what happened, but you may want to give this some thought before you go running off.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve been with Magnus all these years. I helped move him to Seacrest once it was built.” Jarl pierced me with one of his fatherly looks. “That man grieved for you, Kymber. It nearly killed him. He made an extraordinary effort to drag himself back to the land of the living when he lost you. Whatever he did to hurt you today . . . well, I feel comfortable speaking for him – he’s sorry for it. If you leave, it’ll kill him for sure.” A slight smile played over his lips. “And I don’t think you want that.”

  “No.” I squirmed in the chair. “I don’t.”

  “So. W
hat did Magnus do to upset you?”

  “Something that reminded me of the time I spent in captivity.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “He . . .” I threaded my fingers together. “He was trying to motivate me. To fight better, smarter. Nothing else had worked, and damn him, Jarl, but I don’t need to fight like I did before. Why can’t I make him understand that I enjoy the training, but I’m not the warrior he remembers? I will never be what I was.”

  I hung my head. Hearing the truth come out of my own mouth devastated me, but I was of two minds about it. Perhaps I was giving up too easily. I’d tapped into something fierce when I went after Magnus’s friend. If I did it once, I could do it again. The question was, did I want to?

  What was the last piece of that puzzle? What was holding me back? It didn’t matter on one hand. I was unlikely to face an enemy in southern Calari. On the other hand, the ability was clearly there. Why couldn’t I raise it to the surface permanently?

  My physician friend rose and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Tell me what he did.”

  “Magnus hired people to pose as a slaver and the girl he’d captured. Gods help me, I was practically frothing at the mouth when the man challenged me to fight for the girl’s freedom. I went after him with everything I had in me.” I loosed a breath. “The slaver ended up being a friend of Magnus’s. The girl I was fighting for was his daughter. I would’ve killed the man if Magnus hadn’t stopped me.”

  “So his little ruse worked?”

  “You could say that. Too well, in fact.” Tears stung my eyes. “Gods, Jarl, I felt like an eagle soaring into the sky when I pulled my sword. No one saved me, but I was damn sure going to save her. Then Tyrix snatched me right out of the air and told me what he’d done. I felt sick and betrayed. I wanted to kill him instead.” I slumped, drained by the incongruous emotions coursing through me. “How is it possible to go from fury to disappointment so damned fast?”