A House Divided (Astoran Asunder, book 1) (25 page)

No, he supposed his dislike stemmed more from the fact that she seemed to know the captain so well and he her. Stowley knew Cianne in a way that Kila longed to know her, a way he feared he might not ever know her.

And Stowley has no need to hide his attraction to her. Were Cianne interested in him, Stowley would be free to pursue her.

Pushing his thoughts aside, Kila said, "I've known Adepts who devoted themselves to their skills with single-minded focus."

"Like the Seventh Sisters?" Cianne asked, a look coming over her face that he knew all too well. Everyone was fascinated by the Seventh Sisters, it seemed, even Kila himself.

"No, I don't think so," he said. "I don't know much about the Seventh Sisters, but then that's the way they prefer it, isn't it? What I meant was that some Adepts get to a point where they seem to forget that anything exists in the world beyond what they themselves are capable of doing. I've seen it especially with Shapers, Composers, and Performers, many of whom become so consumed by their art they forget to do things like eat and drink, and have to live with people who will remind them to see to their basic human needs."

"How does that differ from the Sisters?"

"I suppose because the Sisters alone possess more than a single Adept ability. I've never met one, you understand, so this is pure speculation on my part, but I imagine they have a better understanding that the world is a multifaceted place. They know it takes more than one narrow skill to make the world function. However helpful my ability might be in some situations, it's entirely useless in others. It can't make me a better friend, it can't help me grow crops, it can't help me soothe a broken heart."

"I don't know if I agree with that. In some ways it can, I would think—not growing crops, obviously. What I mean is, if you solve a crime, it must mean a great deal to the victims or to the loved ones they've left behind. It might not mend their broken hearts or free them from the trauma of what they've suffered, but doesn't it go a long way toward helping them move forward?"

"Perhaps for some. But, Cianne, you're capable of solving crimes too. You're capable of smithing a sword, or holding your own against an opponent in a dagger fight, or weaving cloth. You're capable of making things grow, of creating beauty, of caring for others."

"Like your father was."

"Like my father was," he agreed, swallowing against the lump in his throat. He pulled his father's book out of his pocket and showed it to her. "Thank you for reminding me of that."

"I hope… I hope I didn't overstep my bounds when I spoke to you about him," she said hesitantly.

"You didn't. I think I needed to hear what you said. I think I needed to learn to judge him more fairly, to soften my heart. I'm not certain I'll ever fully forgive him, but perhaps I understand him better now than I did before. I thank you for that."

"I'm glad if I was able to help you," she said softly.

"You were, and I am grateful to you for it."

She smiled. "Years have separated us, and I was very young when we met, but I have always considered you my friend. Sometimes, when I'm with you, I have the sense that little has changed between us at all, that I could go another nine years without seeing you and I would fall immediately into friendship with you once again."

"I'd rather not go another nine years without seeing you."

"Stay here. Don't leave me behind again."

Her voice was warm with humor, but he knew she meant what she said. And he meant it when he replied, "I never will leave you behind again."

Their eyes locked and time seemed to stop. He wanted to kiss her. He longed for it with a ferocity that made every nerve in his body ignite, every muscle ache.

Why? Why do I hold myself back?

But he knew the answer to that question. They both knew the answer to that question.

He was at a loss. What could he say to her?

"I've changed my mind. I don't think we should try to break into the Council Hall," she said, startling him. She had turned her attention to toying with her teacup, and he wasn't certain what he should feel. Relief? Disappointment?

Heartache.

"You don't?" he asked, willing his voice to be steady.

"No, not yet. We may need to do so in the future, but I think it's too risky at present. My father mentioned an upcoming meeting when I was eavesdropping on his conversation, and it must have something to do with the meetings Toran noted in his ledger. It fits into the schedule."

"That's right," he said, sitting back in his chair, contemplating this revelation. "You think we should try to spy on the meeting?"

"I think I should try."

"Cianne, I'm not letting you take that risk on your own," he said firmly.

"Unless you've developed skills I know nothing about—which I concede is possible, given my own personal knowledge of what people are capable of doing if they so desire—stealth isn't your strong point."

He couldn't argue with her there. "Then I'll at least come along with you." She started to protest, but he talked over her. "I can keep a lookout for you, pay attention to who comes and goes in the area. We stand to learn a lot about how these meetings are conducted if I stay outside and observe. You'll be able to overhear what they're saying, and I'll be able to gain us some valuable information about what kind of security these meetings entail, as well as clues to why they've chosen the locations they have."

Sighing, she played with a strand of her hair that had fallen loose, tugging the curl straight and then wrapping it around her finger. He forced himself to deny his intense interest and look away.

He left unspoken the other part of his argument, that if she were discovered, he would be there to help her, for all the good it might do. They would undoubtedly be outnumbered, and it was safe to assume that at least one or two skilled fighters would be guarding the meeting place, but he could not leave her to tackle this on her own. He would never forgive himself if she were to disappear, and he was nowhere near confident enough in his own skills to feel assured that he could find her if she went missing.

"I'm not used to this," she finally said.

"To what?"

"To having a partner, to having to worry about someone else. I don't have any illusions that I can conquer everything, but I know I can rely on myself. I know the extent of my skills and my limitations. I know how to take care of myself, and if I'm outmatched, well, the risk is mine and mine alone. I don't know how to be responsible for another person's welfare."

"Welcome to my world," he said with a grim smile.

She smiled back, but it was pained. "I suppose you do know what that's like."

"You're not asking me to take any risks I haven't committed to taking on a daily basis."

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't feel responsible if something were to happen to you."

"You think I wouldn't feel responsible if something were to happen to you? I've told you, we're in this together."

"Very well, as long as you understand that I won't stand by idly if you're caught."

He wanted to protest, but he didn't have the right. "Ah, the negotiations required when two stubborn people agree to something," he said instead.

Her grin was so lovely that he thought he ought to make it appear more often. "It's best if we don't arrive together. I'll make my approach from the enclave and you can make yours from here."

"Agreed. And afterward?"

"We make our way back here independent of one another, if all goes well. If not…" She held her hands up and shrugged.

He didn't see any point in making more elaborate plans. Simple was best in this situation, since they had no idea what to expect.

"Do you know where the meeting is to take place?" he asked.

"No, but I know my father will be there. I'll follow him."

"I don't really like this. We've only four days to prepare. You'll be going in blind, and they'll have taken precautions. We'd be better off surveilling this meeting and then trying to spy on the next."

She shook her head vehemently. "We haven't the time, Kila. My father is pressuring me again, and my attempts to hold him off are wearing thin. Waiting until next month wouldn't gain us anything at any rate, as from what we can tell they never meet at the same location."

"Yes, but it would still give us an idea of the level of their security."

"Perhaps, but perhaps not. We don't know who makes the arrangements, and it's reasonable to assume that the responsibility shifts. We would need months of covert operations before we might feel comfortable, and even then we wouldn't know exactly what I'd be walking into. At least this way we don't have time to give ourselves the illusion of security. We know what we're doing is risky, and I will be on my guard. It's the best we can do."

She was right, even though he didn't want to accept it. "We train every night until the meeting, if you think you can get away. Not just the deshya, but combat as well."

"I can, and I agree that we should."

It was better than nothing, he supposed.

Chapter 25

"You agree with them." Lach stared at Cianne, his face a mask of outraged disbelief. "You think they should send me away."

"Lach," she said, hoping to placate him, to halt the storm that was brewing.

"No! I can't believe this, Cianne. I can't believe that you of all people agree with them. How could you do this to me?"

She couldn't take it any longer. Though she liked to think she did a good job of hiding it, the strain was starting to wear on her. She could only worry about so many things at once, and at present she had Lach to worry about, she had whatever was going on in the House, her father's involvement, Kila's safety now that she had dragged him into it, and her heart, her traitorous, treacherous heart.

Just once, just once in her life she wished she could be open about everything, wished she could stop pretending, stop concealing, stop obscuring, and live an honest life.

"Lach, I can't help you," she said.

Opening his mouth, he turned to let loose, but she slashed her hand through the air, stopping him.

"It's not that I don't want to help you, it's that I
can't
help you. I've tried, Lach. Cearus's divine love, I have tried! You have no idea how desperately I wish I could fix this for you. You have no idea how hard it is for me to watch what this is doing to you and to know that I'm powerless to stop it."

"Don't I?" he asked, his voice quiet. His shoulders slumped and he closed his eyes, collapsing in on himself. "When you hurt, Cianne, it's like I hurt too. I thought I understood what pain was, when I had to watch you go through your mother's death. I thought I knew. And by Cearus, if this doesn't feel like the worst betrayal of all, but I had no idea.

"This… This is killing me. Night and day, all I can think about is his face. Sometimes I hate him, want to scream at him, want to tell him I'll never forgive him for doing this to himself, to me, to the House. Then others I can't accept that he did do this, know in my bones that he couldn't have. But what if that's what I want to believe? I've never feared the sea, but I fear this. I fear it'll rise up over my head and swallow me whole."

"That's what I'm afraid of too," she whispered.

"That's not even the worst part of it, not for me. The worst part of it is knowing that if it does happen, I'll have left you the way my father left me."

Why? Why now of all times did he have to choose to bare his heart to her again? She couldn't tell him what he wanted to hear, but how could she be expected to say the thing she knew would be the final blow, the one that would break him at last? How could she be expected to destroy him when he was at his most vulnerable?

"You're stronger than that, Lach. You're not going to let it swallow you, which is why you have to go," she said, pushing his unspoken confession aside. She hated herself for doing it, had to turn away from the pain in his eyes, but what other choice did she have? She was in an impossible situation and doing her best to claw her way out of it. "If you stay here, you'll keep doing this to yourself. Your mind will keep running in these circles, and then you'll be so trapped you may never find your way out again. You'll never forgive yourself if you betray yourself and the House that way. Return to the sea, Lach. It's where you're meant to be. It's where Cearus wants you to be. It's where your father would want you to be."

His face twisted in torment, he tilted his head back and covered his eyes with the heels of his hands. A silent scream parted his lips, and he didn't breathe for so long that Cianne was terrified. When he breathed again at last, the sound was painful, as if he were drawing in shards of glass along with life-giving air.

"Sometimes I'm afraid I don't want to move on," he said, in the smallest voice she had ever heard him use. "Sometimes I'm afraid I want to be stuck like this."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I don't know."

Shoulders shaking, he pressed his hand against his eyes so hard the skin around them went white. His pain was terrible to behold, made worse by the fact that Cianne could do nothing to relieve it. She might be able to distract him, but she couldn't make the pain go away, no matter how hard she tried.