Page 25 of Monster of the Dagger Mountains (Killers of the Towers)

Chapter 25

Reznyk

THERE’S SOMETHING ELSE

I close my eyes.

What in the nine hells am I doing? I should be avoiding Kira, not holding her hand and pressing magic into her palm. She was sent by the thrice-damned Towers to find the amulet. All I need to do is convince her I don’t have the damn thing so she’ll go back to the Towers and tell them there’s no reason for anyone to come back here ever again.

Kissing her is absolutely not a part of that plan.

Besides, some dark whisper of intuition suggests, Kira’s flirty innocence and her sad story would make one hell of a cover. I don’t think it’s likely Kira’s been faking it this whole time, of course; she’d have to be damn good, better than any spy or assassin I’ve ever met, to go this long without slipping up once.

Still. If that’s a cover story, it’s brilliant. And if it’s not, it’s just so damned cruel.

I should tell Kira that the Towers lied about her magical potential. I just ran enough magic through her hand to make my skin burn, and she didn’t so much as flinch. I don’t think she felt any of it. Although what she did feel?—

I shift on the grass, then press my knuckles into my chest as if that’s going to loosen the knot under my ribs. Gods, this pull between us is making everything worse. What kind of idiot was I to take her up on her offer in the hunting lodge?

Fuck. The same kind of idiot I am now.

I know why the Towers came for Kira three years ago. That would have been when I started to pursue Lenore in earnest, when she stopped being just another pretty face in a crowd of silk dresses and started to be something more. A vision of a possible future, one where I didn’t have to be alone.

My failed attempt at romance is the reason Kira gave her life away to the Towers. I’m behind the lie of her magical ability. Fyrris might have whispered the words into her ear, but he did it because of me and Leanore Castinac and my godsdamned idiotic heart. Because I thought I’d get away with it, that I could fall in love like a normal person.

That’s a joke. My entire life is just a trail of ash and bones. I shake my head, then drag my hand through my hair. This would all be so much easier if we hadn’t slept together. If I hadn’t gone to the damned hunting lodge. If I hadn’t murdered the old god without using the amulet and then run screaming from the consequences.

Damn it. I turn back to Kira. Suddenly, I feel very old. But was there ever a time when I felt young?

“Kira,” I say. My voice sounds strange, like it’s coming from somewhere very far away. “I should tell you.”

Her shoulders rise and fall. It looks like she’s bracing herself. Of course. She has to know what’s coming.

“About your, uh, magical potential,” I begin. “I’m so sorry. But I don’t feel it.”

She makes a sound that’s almost like a laugh, until I catch the expression on her face. She presses her palms against her eyes, then shakes her head.

“Of course you don’t,” she mutters. “No one does.”

She drops her hands, then tilts her head toward the sky. Tears glint in the corners of her eyes. Afternoon sunlight plays off the strands of hair that have escaped from her braid, and I stare at the lips that just touched mine with a sort of hunger I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before. She makes that sound again, a whimper she’s trying to disguise as a laugh.

“Whoever my parents are,” she says, under her breath, “they’re probably disappointed with me.”

I turn to stare at my own hands, like the coward I am.

“There’s something else,” I continue.

Kira inhales softly as the world holds still around us. Wind ruffles the gold and emerald leaves of the forest beneath us. For a moment, I wonder if I actually have the courage to do this.

“The man from the Towers,” I say. “The one you came with, the blond.”

“Tholious,” Kira says. The tone of her voice suggests there’s not much love lost between the two of them, thank the gods.

“He offered me a trade for the amulet,” I say. “He didn’t look happy about it.”

She turns toward me, and I have to look away.

“What was it?” she asks.

“They offered me you,” I confess, even though something hot and sharp twists in my gut when I say the words. “And, maybe that’s why the Towers?—”

Kira laughs. It’s hard and bright, like the edge of a blade. And then she buries her face in her hands and laughs again, although this time it’s more like a sob.

“Fuck,” she cries. “Why am I even surprised?”

She barks another laugh, then wipes her eyes and stares at the clouds shape-shifting their way across the sky.

“Of course,” she mutters, as if she’s talking to the air. “There’s nothing special about me. There never was.”

“That’s not funny,” I snap.

“It’s not meant to be,” Kira replies.

“I’ve known a lot of people with magical potential,” I say. “The world would be better off without most of them.”

Kira laughs again, softer this time. My chest aches as I open my mouth, searching desperately for the words to express all the myriad ways Kira is incredibly, heartbreakingly special.

“I wanted a rug,” I blurt.

Kira blinks at me. Tears shimmer in her eyes.

“I rebuilt the cabin months ago,” I continue. “It’s better than the keep, but it’s still too damn cold in the morning. I kept telling myself I’d get a rug out of the keep, but— You’re the one who actually did it.”

I snap my mouth closed before I can say anything even more idiotic. A tear slides down Kira’s cheek as she shakes her head.

“Thanks,” she whispers.

Her lips curve into something that might, one day, blossom into a smile, and my gods, I have never wanted to kiss anyone like I want to kiss her right now. The wind pushes a strand of hair across her lips. I could reach out and tuck it behind her ear, then lean closer?—

I clench my jaw, then turn away. She can’t stay here, damn it, and kissing her would only make it harder to send her away. I stare at the distant peak of the mountain I named after Aveus, master of illusions, and try to tell myself the sting in my eyes is due to the wind. Behind me, Kira clears her throat.

“So,” she says, speaking slowly. “I have another plan. A backup plan.”

“Oh?”

I glance at her, but she’s not looking at me. She’s frowning at the mountain I’ve named after myself. Something cold whispers across the back of my neck.

“I, uh. I don’t think I want to go back to Silver City,” she says, in a voice that’s hardly more than a whisper. “Not now. Not after—that.”

“Oh?” I say again.

My stupid heart leaps at this, almost like it’s been waiting all week for those exact words, and suddenly I’m picturing things I didn’t even know I wanted. Kira in the cabin, holding a mug and watching snow fall through the window. Taking her hand and pointing out the direwolves, showing her the yearling pups as autumn leaves blanket the forest floor.

“I just— I don’t know where else to go,” Kira continues. “Maybe the Port of Good Fortune? I don’t know.”

Right. Of course. I try to drown those dreams of Kira curled up on the bed in the cabin, watching snow fill the valley below us like tea in a mug.

She doesn’t want that. No one would want that.

“I know someone in the Port,” I say, thinking of Dreures. He’s an asshole and a professional criminal, but he still owes me a favor. That should be enough to render him trustworthy. I hope.

Kira makes a humming sound. She looks at me, then away, and then back at me. She’s smiling, but there’s something hesitant about it, like it’s been pulled too tight over something else.

“You could come with me,” she says.

A hint of what I feel about that idea must flicker across my face, because her eyes drop.

“Not like that, I mean,” she continues, speaking fast, like she’s trying to bury what she just said in a flood of words. “Not like, you know, a partner, or whatever. Not even for long. Just, maybe you could help me get set up? I mean, hells, I don’t even know how to get to the Port of Good Fortune. I’ve never even been outside Silver City, at least not until I came here.”

I feel cold. The damned amulet glints in my memory, shoved under a broken bucket in the garden, of all the stupid places to hide it. I think of the direwolves crossing the ridge in the sunlight.

And I think of the old god who travels with them, the last creature of pure magic left in this world. If the Towers come hunting for the amulet, bringing ravens and Exemplars and all the things that are sensitive to the delicate pull of magic, they’ll find the wolves.

They’ll find the old god.

And then some other idiot will be handed an ebony crossbow and a silver bolt, and the entire world will be lessened.

“No,” I say. “No. I can’t leave.”

“Reznyk, you don’t have enough food!” Kira blurts. “Trust me, I ran the orphanage larder for years. You’ve got two, maybe three months of food stored in your root cellar. It’s not enough for the winter!”

“I know,” I growl through clenched teeth.

Kira blinks. She looks like someone just smacked her.

“So, what in the nine hells are you thinking?” she snaps. “You’re just going to sit up here and starve?”

I turn away from Kira and stare down at the valley below us. Spots of green wink from the sea of gold. There are more golden leaves today than there were yesterday. Soon, there will be so many leaves falling in that valley that I won’t be able to ignore what they mean anymore.

“I’ll go to Cairncliff for supplies,” I say.

I don’t mention the fact that I’ve already spent most of my shills in the Golden Peak Hunting Lodge.

Kira laughs. “Really? That’s, what, a five-day trip? Do you have any idea how much food you’re going to need when the snow really piles up?”

Not really, no. But I don’t want to sound like an idiot, so instead of answering her question, I stumble to my feet and turn away.

“I can’t leave,” I snarl.

Which is, I have to admit, a very shitty excuse.