Page 102 of Deadly Maiden

Though Anathema is here, somewhere, my faithful companion, my sentient darkthing. We left Kyvin behind, though, which bothers me. The undead is so unfettered by the common hates and habits of the living—naïve, innocent, childlike. I caught him trying to read a book the other morning, tracing the lines of words with his pale finger. I doubt he understood what was written. I sorrowed over the fae he used to be, the life he had. Another time, I found him lying on his back, staring up through the trees with Anathema nestled on him.

Should I fear malevolence arising? I doubt it.

There has to be a reason why he was sent to me. The raven disintegrated but not Kyvin.

Rorsyd drags his boulder closer, a minor feat of strength that still impresses me. Ruefully. I eye the scoured path it took in the snowy earth and, beyond that, the bigger furrows he made on landing.

“Damn, Rorsyd, you churned up the ground.”

“Anything to get near you. The snow will cover it.” He leans in and takes my gloved hand. “You’re not too cold?”

I shake my head. “No. I like it up here. It’s so beautifully quiet.”

“Yes, and yet you know I wanted to talk about war.”

“To convince me not to get involved.” And to flee.

“Yes. I told you of the horrors I’ve seen, but this is also what I need to say. I know that you are a person who must make her own decisions.” He looks me in the eye.

“Thank you.”

“And know that I will go wherever you go. That is immutable, no matter which path you choose.”

I have to think that one through. I haven’t considered this. “That’s some responsibility there. That I could drag you into something you don’t want.”

“I see. I don’t mean to do that.” He pulls off my glove, cups my hand in two of his, completely engulfing mine, then he kisses my fingertips. “I love your skin.”

I have to snort at that one. “Okay. Back to the serious stuff. What did you want to say, and…” I must make myself do this before I run from it, again. “And then I have something important too.”

“As well as choosing whether to go to war?”

“Yes.” A snowflake drifts by and makes me wonder at our fragility. It will be gone when the sun rises fully, or tomorrow if not today.

“Oh. Something I wanted to show you first. See that peak there, at the end of that run of mountains?” He points south along the range.

“Maybe? I see a gray-blue point.”

“That is where my hoard resides. I will take you there one day, show you my vast wealth.”

“And?”

“And?” He looks puzzled.

“What do you want to do with it all?”

“Uhhh.”

Now I get it. He’s a dragonshifter. The very existence of his gold hoard is a reason in itself. This is not the time to tell him we could feed the poor, finance some good things, help others with it.

“Okay, moving on. Your reasons for me not joining Andacc are? Apart from the threat of a horrid death.” My voice softens. “And that would sway me if this was not a war against injustice, oppression, and evil.” The last one is the biggest. “You’ve seen more than I have, having been an enforcer.”

“Evil.” He still holds my hand and gives it a little squeeze and a shake for emphasis. “You make a good case for this. This is what I have to offer, and bear in mind that last battle I was in was not the worst I have seen. The problem with rebellions is that after the dust has settled, after the wounded have gone home, minus legs and arms, after the dead are counted and even, sometimes, after the good side wins…if such a thing exists. In some wars, nobody is clean.” He grimaces. “My point is, after all of that, often the same people rise to the top. The bad rise to the top because they are willing to do whatever it takes to get there.”

“I see. Andacc seems like someone I would trust.”

“Sure. He might be. But will he be the person crowned king? No. Unlikely. He is not from a royal family. It’s possibly going to be someone beneath Madlin Darsh who will be raised to that high post. They almost always get corrupted. Few kings are moral and good people.”

My mouth twists before I even think. “That’s depressing.”

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