Page 58

Story: Lie

Aire lowered his free hand, having finally gotten the hint. “Keep your eyes off her—and on me,” he cautioned the stranger.

“What’s that?” The stranger’s blade nicked, making Nicu hiss, a line of blood streaming down his throat. “How’s about you say it again? A little louder?”

“In case you were wondering, this is an act of treason.”

“In case you were wondering, I don’t give a fuck! Drop the swords, hero! Both of them!”

Aire flung his weapons on the ground, inviting the stranger to punt them behind him, out of reach.

“Any more of those axes?” the prick demanded.

I interrupted before the knight did something moronic—like tell the truth. “What do you want?”

“Did you hear about me and decide to come snooping? That’s not how I work. You wait formeto come toyou.”

“Snooping for what?”

“Tell me how you know me.”

“We do not,” Aire answered. “Nor do we comprehend your meaning, as we quested here believing this territory unpopulated, forsaken by all.”

“Are you a squatter?” I blurted.

“Are you a liar?” the stranger volleyed.

“If you want to see what happens when I lie, you’ll have to back up and give me some room.” At his quizzical expression, I said, “Look, don’t hurt the boy.”

“If you’re not here to seek me out, then you’re vagabonds. Not a fan of those, either.”

“We came here to hide out for a while.”

“Is that right? Hide out from what?”

“A search party,” Aire answered. “You’re harboring a rebellious, runaway Royal. The grandson of Her Majesty the Queen.”

The stranger cursed. “Fantastic.”

“We weren’t looking for you,” I said. “I’m here to explore this forest, my Royal friend wanted an adventure, and his loyal knight wanted to make sure neither of us got butchered along the way. What’s your name, squatter?”

“I’ll ask the questions.”

“If given the chance, I shall lead the Crown to you, thwarting whatever business you keep here,” Aire said. “Aide us, let us reside without conflict, and I shall revoke that promise.”

A shrug. “Not a concern. My business is legit business.”

“Aside from the part where you’re holding a blade to a Royal’s throat.”

“You could’ve swiped that soldier’s garb from a real defender of the Crown. How do I know you’re not fugitives planning to carve out my liver?”

“You have my word.”

“Guess that’s supposed to mean something. I’m thinking, this is the deal: You tell me who you really are, what you really want, and you leave me out of it. Go on your merry way, and I won’t slit his throat. He’s got a sweet pulse, see?”

I seriously didn’t want to stick my nose into this, but if this prick needed a demonstration like Aire had, fine. I opened my mouth to prove at least one of us couldn’t disguise a total lie.

Then I clamped my mouth shut, because it wasn’t me who spoke up.

“You’re made of torrents and smogs,” Nicu said to the stranger. “Those things are transparent and don’t last. Draw my blood again, but you’ll still dry up and disappear.”