Silverlight (17 page)

Too many words to give this bastard.

“I guess not.” I moved forward, intent on
trapping him against the building at the end of the street.

“I should’ve just killed you myself at
Marilian. We would’ve been well rid of you then, but selling you into slavery
was more satisfying. I wanted to tell the other men at T’hath what I’d done
with you, but I couldn’t risk it. They’d have rejoiced if they’d known Garai
was using you as the whore you truly were.”

I took a deep breath to calm myself. Words,
just words. “You’re such a disappointing coward. I can understand your hatred
of me, Tariq, but to hurt your own brother that way.”

“So what? You were both expendable. It was just
easier to get rid of you. I truly hoped Magnus would die grieving for you, but
that might have looked suspicious.” Tariq tried to move out of my range, but I
stayed with him. “So I had to play the part of the concerned brother and drag
that addlepatted bastard off your grave more times than I care to count.”

Cold. So cold. A side of him I’d never seen. I
wondered if one ever truly knew what went on inside a person’s heart.

He tipped his head and smiled. “Would you like
to know what Garai paid for you?”

I nodded. I wanted this bastard to feed the
wildness inside me.

“Twelve gold dorats. The wound to your sword
hand was so grievous, he threw in ten silver conlars. I’m a rich man because of
you.”

I’d heard enough to last me a lifetime. With a
low growl, I sprinted ahead, my feet churning up dust all around me.

His dark eyes widened; he held his hands out
before him to ward me off. I’d wanted him to put up more of a fight, but now I
didn’t care. Now I just wanted to end it.

“You’re a dead man because of me.” My fingers
tightened around the hilt of my sword. The muscles in my forearms and shoulders
clenched as I swung at him, my eyes focused on the pulse in his neck. I saw his
mouth form into an O, heard him scream “No!” clear and high, like a hawk
screeching overhead.

I didn’t stop. I had Magnus to thank, but I
owed this to the captive girl I’d been. To the free woman I was now.

 It was a clean cut. Tariq’s head separated
from his body, still shocked and blinking, and flew through the air. As a final
irony, it rolled neatly into the center of his cloak.

His neck began to spurt crimson, the last gasp
of a black, deceitful heart. The rest of Tariq Tyrix’s body crumpled like
parchment in fire, showering me with blood as he fell, finally landing in a
position of supplication: legs bent beneath him, arms flung wide.

I dropped to my knees and pressed a kiss to my
blade. My lips came away wet with the traitor’s blood.

“You have lived up to your name,” I whispered
to Promise. “And you shall always be the blade that avenged me, but another
waits for me. I must go and claim her, no matter the cost.”

I stared at Tariq’s dead body, bleeding into
the dirt, and whispered, “Her name is Silverlight.”

“M
r. Tyrix! That woman! She’s coming back!” Tomas
shouted.

I glanced up from my mid-day meal. That woman?

Kymber?

Tomas sprinted from the kitchen, disheveled and
out of breath. “It’s her. She’s coming back on the horse she stole!”

I rose to go and greet her when I heard my
front door slam into the foyer. No, not slam exactly.

I heard wood splintering, nails squealing as
they were jerked from the frame. I was about to ask Tomas if she looked angry
when the door into the dining room exploded open.

I sat back down, mouth agape. Kymber had ridden
the horse through my house into the dining room. My eyes nearly fell into my
lap when she urged the horse up onto the table, knocking over a full bottle of
my best mead in the process.

She smiled. “Hello, Magnus. We need to talk.
When will you be available?”

Swallowing my astonishment, I stared up at her.
Her clothing, her face, her hair – she was covered with dried blood and smelled
like a butchered animal. Her eyes were sharp and fierce, blue ice in a
blizzard.

My warrior had returned to me, but I couldn’t
smile, lest she spill my blood this day. “Hello, Kymber. I’m available now.”

She slid off the horse, a booted foot landing
on either side of my plate, and threw the reins to Tomas. Then she kicked me
square in the chest with every ounce of strength she possessed. I fell over
backward in the chair. My head hit the wall and I slid to the floor.

“Get up,” she snarled. 

I did as commanded, righting the chair and
reseating myself. My cock was so damned hard I thought it would burst. Gods, I
loved this woman.

“Captive women and slavers are off limits,” she
said, her hands on her hips. “Now and forever. If you ever do anything like
that to me again, I’ll kill you. There are a thousand ways to motivate me,
Tyrix. That isn’t one of them.”

“Understood.” I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
Such magnificent fury.

She turned and loosened the ties on a dark
bundle strapped to the horse. “I have a present for you.”

I was afraid. Very, very afraid. Something
heavy and round hung in the center of several yards of bloodstained fabric.
“Oh?”

She opened her hand; the bundle fell at her
feet with a dull, splashing thud. Her gaze never left mine as she kicked it
open with the toe of one boot.

I jerked back in my chair. Gods. It was barely
recognizable as a human head. The smell was atrocious. The stew I’d eaten began
to rise out of my stomach. I gulped hard to keep it down. “Who is that?” I
croaked.

She tipped her head. “You don’t recognize your
own brother?”

“Tariq?” I stared at the head and shivered.
“What? How?”

“It’s not a long story, or a terribly
complicated one. I went to Jarl’s place. We were supposed to attend the market
together, but Jarl stayed behind to treat Jorge’s burnt finger. Somehow, Tariq
tracked me to Adamar and found me in the market. We fought. I killed him.”

I stood up. “Well done. I’m proud of you.”

“While it pleases me to hear, that part of this
situation is not about you. I have something I need to say.”

“I’m listening.”

“I hated you for pushing me. You were . . . are
. . . such a bastard for pulling that slaver trick, but forcing me out of my
complacency was the best thing you could’ve done. I needed that anger. I called
upon every skill I had when I faced Tariq, but I’m still not good enough. I
want to continue training.”

“Of course we’ll continue training. Why would
you think otherwise?” I gestured at what was left of my brother. “What are you
going to do with that?”

“Get the doors, Tomas,” she ordered. 

 Whimpering, my servant swung the back doors
wide open. Kymber kicked the putrid head out into the yard and smiled at Tomas.
“The horse’s name is Lady Gray. She’s mine now. Would you mind taking her back
to the stables, Tomas?” Kymber pierced me with the fiery gaze of a goddess. “Do
you have a problem with that, Magnus?”

I lifted my hands. “She’s all yours, my love.
I’m certainly not about to refuse you.”

“I’ll be taking up residence in my old room,
Tomas. When Lady Gray is settled, I want Tariq’s head thrown into the ocean,
then I want a hot bath drawn. Plenty of soap and towels. And candles. Lots of
them. Lit. Understood?” Kymber said. Her tone left no room for argument.

“Of course, Miss Oryx.” Tomas bowed, coaxed
Lady Gray down off my table, and beat a hasty retreat through the kitchen.

She turned her focus back to me. “I want my
sword.”

I glanced at the pommel peeking over her left
shoulder. “But you have it.”

“Silverlight.” She crouched before me. “I want
Silverlight. I’m going to Pentorus to get her. You’re welcome to come along if
you wish, but I’m going with or without you.”

“Oh, woman, you’re not leaving me behind.” I
gave her a crooked grin. “I wouldn’t dream of missing this.”

“Fair enough. And one other thing.” She rose
and clenched her fists. “I hope you didn’t have anything planned for today,
because you’ll be joining me in my bath. Then you’ll be joining me in my bed.”

My heart nearly stopped. “Of course. Happy to
oblige.” I pulled her down off the table and held her close, despite the smell.
“Marry me, Kymber. Please.”

 “I will
marry you.” Her expression
softened as she put a warm hand to my cheek. “As soon as I get Silverlight
back.”

S
he bit. She scratched.
She loved me with a ferocity I had not thought possible. She kept me in her bed
the rest of the day and into the night and drained me, but I was the happiest
man in the land. Kymber Oryx was back in my arms.

Tears burnt my eyes as I watched her sleep.
Clearly, I only had part of the key to unlocking her potential. We could’ve
trained until the end of time and never understood. The answers to the
important questions had to come from her.

She was back to being the woman I remembered,
exuding poise and confidence with every step. I felt nothing for my dead
brother but scorn. And gratitude. In a way, I had him to thank for the woman
who slept peacefully beside me. 

I brushed a kiss across her forehead. She was
my sun, the air that I breathed, my every heartbeat. I loved her more than my
own life.

We would kill her last enemy and retake her
beloved Silverlight together. Then I would make her my wife.

I
woke up sometime toward morning, just as the
sky began to lighten. The dream I’d been having left me slightly panicked and
sticky with sweat. I couldn’t remember the details, but Tariq’s head played a
prominent part.

Killing another human being must be done for
the right reasons. I’ve always believed it must further the cause of justice.
Silly me, thinking the world was black and white, right or wrong.

Fair.

I’d done something I never wanted to do. I’d
killed for revenge.

It should’ve felt good, but vengeance was just
the domesticated sister of fighting while angry. I knew no one would tell me I
didn’t have just cause. No one would say Tariq didn’t deserve to die but, for
some reason, what I’d done sat in my chest like a rock. Perhaps because I knew
him, had once trusted him.

Or maybe it was starting to sink in that I’d
started something I’d have to finish sooner or later.

The thought of traveling to Pentorus on purpose
made me physically ill. I never wanted to go back into that castle. My skin
still had Pentorian filth embedded in it. Occasionally, I caught a whiff of
that place: mold and urine and misery. Dead animal carcasses, leaves, and empty
bottles of wine accumulated in the castle’s dark corners and no one gave a
damn. The only thing Garai truly cared about was his parrots.

Why had he kept me in the aviary for the first
years of my captivity? Convenience? To send a message that I was little more
than a pet?

 Believe me, nothing was lost on me. But I also
benefited from the sunshine, the way the birds called to each other from their
cages, the limited human contact I had with their caretakers. And James, the rooster
who came twice a day to remind me to look after myself.

Garai would’ve moved me to a darker, colder
place if he’d known I took comfort in the little things. The little things had
kept me from breaking.

I wasn’t sure if Garai was the perfect king for
Pentorus or the other way around. Calari was a large continent, very nearly an
island, but for the narrow strip of land that connected it to another
continent. Humans had attempted to map this second mysterious continent, but no
one had explored it to any extent. Those sent to do so rarely returned.

That land bridge was Pentorus.

Beyond the northern boundary of Pentorus lay
the Shadowlands. Did dragons live there? Fae? Goblins, for sure. The tribe that
had precipitated my escape had raided from the north, and they’d come ready to
fight. They hated Drakoe Garai as much as I did, but I wondered what would
happen if he were no longer there to guard the border. Would a flood of strange
creatures invade Calari then?

Garai was a hateful, lying, violent bastard who
deserved to die in the most humiliating way, but perhaps he served a purpose.
Would killing him leave the border of Calari vulnerable and exposed?

I frowned and stared at the twin moons out the
open window of my bedroom. What if the bastard who stole a huge chunk of my
life had some value to his neighbors? Should I kill him or not?

It didn’t matter. He didn’t have to die by my
hand.

All I really wanted was Silverlight.