“Boss’ room,” Jesper grunted and then dropped Wolfe on the stone floor as if he were nothing more than a sack of potatoes. I cried out and rushed for Wolfe just as his eyes began to open. “Shit!” Jesper sighed and reached across the bed for something. In the next moments, I watched helplessly as he tied Wolfe - who was coming around far too slowly for my liking - up against the heavy brass bed.
“You next.” Jesper strode towards me and I tried to kick out at him again. He dodged and clucked his tongue at me. “Not that again, you little bitch.” He lunged at me, trying to wrench my arms behind my back but I shrieked and punched and pummeled at him, vaguely aware of Wolfe now shouting and struggling from his prison on the floor. Then Jesper’s huge hand came towards my face and cracked it back with an almighty blow. I felt like I’d run into a brick wal. My legs gave way and I was barely aware of Jesper tying my hands behind my back and throwing me onto the bed. Water streamed out of my right eye and I hesitantly lifted my cheek, wincing at the throbbing pain.
“Stay here, and behave!” Jesper cried. “Boss wil be in soon.”
I struggled into a sitting position as the man slammed out of the door, a key turning in the lock.
Feeling his eyes on me, I looked down at Wolfe whose eyes blazed back at me.
“Are you alright?” He asked hoarsely, his gaze on my cheek, his jaw clenched so tight I thought it might shatter.
I huffed and shimmied toward him, trying to get a look at the cut on his head. “Am I alright? Wolfe, they knocked you unconscious.” I hissed at his wound. “We need to get that cleaned up. Are you feeling wel?”
He winced now, stretching his legs out before him and puling at the ropes. It was futile. He slumped wearily. “I feel a little dizzy.”
“You were out a while.”
“Noted. Where are we?” He glanced around the room.
I sighed. “We’re in an abandoned glass works. We’ve been taken by what I assume is a rookery gang.” Wolfe cursed and then whipped around, vengeance burning in his blue gaze. “Did any of them touch you?” I grinned, thinking about Little Sin. “I knocked out the one who tried.”
Wolfe quirked an eyebrow. “Knocked out?”
I quickly told him how I had incapacitated Jesper and then launched the malet at Little Sin. Wolfe shook his head in amazement. “Perhaps I
should
let the men train you,” he murmured.
Surprised, I smirked back at him. “I told you so.”
He roled his eyes. “Can you never take anything graciously?”
I snorted. “Not from you.”
Wolfe shook his head, hearing the teasing in my voice. He tugged at the ropes again. “We need to get out of here, Rogan.” Ignoring the shiver that rushed down my spine every time he said my name, I stumbled inelegantly onto the floor, trying to manoeuvre myself in front of him.
“What are you doing?” I could hear the amusement in his voice.
“I thought you could use your teeth to get the ropes off my wrists,” I explained over my shoulder, thrusting my arms backwards at him.
“Rogan, please tel me your kidding. Have you seen how thick this rope is?”
“Wel how else are we-”
I hushed at the sound of a key turning in the lock, and barely registered as Wolfe brought a leg up, puling me back in towards him so I was sitting between his legs with a sense of being shielded. I felt his indrawn breath on the back of my neck, the tension from his body crackling against the tension in mine.
We waited, hearts racing, and the door swung open. At first I couldn’t make out anything except a tal, strong figure of a man. And then he strode inside, slowly, leisurely… and I let go a yelp of surprise.
I recognised those green eyes and jet black hair, that defiant smirk. They were just al now in a taler, older man with a harder face that was no less handsome than it had been as a young boy.
“Kir!” I gasped.
The smirk on his face fel as he came to a halt, his eyes drinking me and Wolfe in. “Rogan? Wolfe?”
“Kir!” I laughed a little hystericaly, relief flooding through me.
“Holy mother of-” he dropped to his knees and grasped my shoulders, his strange eyes wide on mine. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
“Wel it is,” Wolfe grunted from behind me. “Fancy untying us?”
Stunned, he sank back onto his heels, taking a moment. It was then realisation struck.
“Your Boss?” I asked softly, trying to keep the condemnation out of my question.
Kir must have heard the accusation anyway, for he flinched and looked away. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I’m Boss.” Wolfe struggled to be seen from behind me, so I moved out of the way, letting him peer around my shoulder, trying not to inhale that wonderful woody spice that was al Wolfe. “So, any intention of letting us go then?”
Kir turned to Wolfe and they shared a long look. “I can’t believe it’s you. How are you?” I was surprised by how congenial the two were, considering Wolfe’s father was Syracen and the fact that Kir had had to live with the bastard for a year. There seemed to be so much more in Kir’s question than I understood.
Wolfe nodded slowly. “I’m alright, Kir. Except for being kidnapped that is.”
Seeming to shake himself, Kir nodded, a flush of embarrassment cresting his cheeks. He gestured at me. “Turn, Rogan. Let me get those off of you.” I shimmied out from Wolfe’s embrace and managed to twist, holding my hands out behind me.
“I’m going to use a blade, so keep stil.”
As soon as I was loose, Kir moved around me and freed Wolfe. He eyed the top of Wolfe’s head and frowned. “I told them not to do any damage. Mind you,” his gaze flickered over Wolfe as he slapped him on the back, “Considering how big you’ve gotten, they probably had no choice.” Wolfe grunted and stumbled to his feet, rubbing his wrists. “Not that it isn’t good to see you, Kir… why the hel did you have us kidnapped?” Feeling lost in this reunion, I too slowly rose to my feet, watching the two men as they faced off with another. There was no tension or animosity between them. In fact they both appeared happy to see each other in one piece. I was growing steadily more confused every second.
Kir shrugged, looking between us both. “I didn’t know it was you. I got word that a fancy gent and lady were here and I knew the Markiz would be interested.” I gaped, feeling disorientated and lost. “The Markiz?”
Kir nodded grimly. “Things have been changing in Vasterya for a while now, Rogan.”
Wolfe growled, “Changing how?”
Gesturing to the bed, Kir slumped down into the armchair. As I took a seat beside Wolfe on the bed I realised how much older Kir looked than Wolfe, despite them being of the same age. It was almost as if Kir had seen too much; whatever he had gone through had made a physical impression on him.
“Who do you think set the rookery up, Wolfe?” Kir exhaled slowly, seeming pained to be having to explain this.
I was stil completely lost but Wolfe drew in a breath, “Markiz Solom.”
“What?!” I squeaked, any colour in my cheeks surely having completely leached out now. What on haven were they talking about? Why would the Markiz create the rookery?
“The Markiz cottoned on to the fact that the Princezna’s powers were beginning to weaken in Vasterya. Suddenly al these plans and feelings he had buried inside himself were bursting forth, being alowed free reign. With no word from Silvera that there was anything wrong with the Princezna, tipping him off that there was some kind of cover up going on, the Markiz began making plans.”
“What kind of plans?” Wolfe asked softly, and I knew that menacing quiet did not bode wel.
Kir shrugged again. “I was working for him, he found a Glava useful and he paid me wel. When things began to change he put his plan to take the sovereignty over into action.”
My stomach plummeted and I felt like I had been kicked in the ribs. “Take the sovereignty over?! Is he insane?!”
“Yes.” Kir nodded. “Quite possibly. He’s started training an army. He paid me to start the rookery up, hoping that a gangland at the border would put off visitors who may take tales back to Silvera. So far it’s worked.”
Wolfe was frowning. “I sent men in only a few weeks ago. There was no mention of an army.”
“No there wouldn’t have been. The army is trained out in the west near the sand dunes. And the people of Pharya are almost religious in their belief in the Markiz and would never betray him. Without the Dyzvati power these people are easily brainwashed, especialy with food and money.” He snorted and gestured around him.
“Even I’ve been brought low by it.”
I narrowed my eyes on him, suddenly understanding his role in this. “You would have let him do this? Bring an army into Silvera? Betray Haydyn?” My old friend remained expressionless as he replied in a flat voice, “I suspected Haydyn was unwel and that it was being dealt with. I expected this madness to be over soon and for me to return to working for the Markiz who would remain a Markiz, not a Kral.” Remembering the boy who had fought so savagely against Syracen when he hurt me, who had taken a lashing unlike anything I had ever seen, I wanted to believe him, but there was a holow darkness in Kir’s eyes that hadn’t been there those many years ago.
Wolfe cleared his throat, breaking the strained look Kir and I shared. “So what were you planning on doing with us?”
“Making sure you weren’t spies. I thought the Markiz would pay good money for you. And he certainly would pay good money to get his hands on the Captain of the Royal Guard and the Handmaiden of Phaedra.” Kir shook his head, grinning wryly, not seeming to believe we were here. “But he won’t find out about you. I would never let any harm come to either of you.”
I exhaled sharply, my relief palpable. “Thank you, Kir.”
He threw me a boyish smile, one so genuine we could have been children again, planning new ways to harass Syracen, consequences be damned. He looked me over and I felt his gaze sharpen. “I knew you were pretty, Rogan, sweetheart, but I had no idea you’d turn out so wel.” I felt Wolfe stiffen beside me at the compliment and tried not to blush at Kir’s roguishness. He had been like that as a young teenager as wel. In fact he’d once kissed me on the cheek when Syracen was visiting at the palace. Kir had gotten away from him and come to find me. I think I’d been hiding out in the gardens, terrified to be in the same building as Stovia. Sensing my unease, Kir had teased me into playing a game of tag with him. A few games in and we heard Syracen belowing for Kir from the bottom of the gardens. Kir’s eyes had hardened but when he saw me watching he’d turned his bright smile on me and swooped down, planting a kiss on my rosy cheek, teling me he’d be back for me.
“You’re just the same,” I laughed, shaking my head at him.
His eyes told me he disagreed before he turned to Wolfe. “What about you, Wolfe? How is life treating you these days? Got a wife yet?” Wolfe grunted.
Kir didn’t seem to be bothered by Wolfe’s monosylabic response and instead stood to his feet. “You look like you both could do with a bath and some food.” Immediately panic set in, Haydyn’s face swimming before me. “Actualy, Kir, we realy need to be going.”
“Where are you heading?”
For some reason I wasn’t sure we should share that information with Kir and wasn’t surprised when Wolfe grunted, “Ryl.” We weren’t going to Ryl. We were going to Caera, but if anyone had intercepted the messenger then he would verify that we had wanted him to contact people in Ryl. Plus, the Guard were in Ryl. No rookery gang could outfight the Guard.
So, Wolfe didn’t quite trust Kir either. I felt a pang of guilt that I shoved away forcefuly. Nothing could get in the way of saving Haydyn. Not even an old friend.
Kir nodded. “Wel you’l need horses. I can get you horses. But I have a lot of explaining to do to the gang and wel… you both look like you could do with some freshening up and some rest. Let me have the bath filed, and Wolfe you need to take care of that wound.” We didn’t argue with Kir. Mostly because I think we were desperate for a bath. It was the spoiled upbringing in us both. Kir had a couple of the men fil the bathtub with hot water and I left the room with Kir, while Wolfe bathed. He took me to another room down the halway, away from the gang members. It too was kept quite clean, a couple of armchairs here and there, painted theatre posters covering the chipped wals. I sat down, confused by the strange mix of alien and familiarity in being with Kir. I smiled in thanks as he handed me a glass of water and sipped greedily, not realising how thirsty I was. My eyes widened at the touch of Kir’s fingers on my face, but he was just tipping my cheek to the side for a better look. His green gaze darkened to the colour of the forest at night.
“Who did that?” He bit out.
Not realy caring if I got Jesper in trouble, I told him. Kir cursed profusely before softening his expression as he took in my fright. His fingers were gentle on my skin as he stroked my cheek.
“I’l kil him for that.”
I shivered, puling away when his gaze dipped to my mouth. “Please don’t.”
He quirked an eyebrow, drawing back. “You don’t want me to punish him for beating you?” I smirked. “I think I punished him enough.”
Kir laughed. “I forgot how bloodthirsty you can be. What did you do to him?”
I told him and Kir laughed harder until I joined in.
Wiping tears from his eyes, he sighed, appearing relaxed for the first time. “Oh I have missed you, little Rogan.” Smiling sadly, I shrugged. “It’s been a long time, Kir.”
“It has,” he agreed. “But we went through a lifetime together in only a year.”
As we both remembered, a chily silence fel over the room. I flinched, stil hearing his screams as the Captain of Guard lashed him over and over again with the horsewhip.
“Do you dream about it?” he asked me so quietly I almost didn’t hear him.
I looked away, my teeth clenched tightly together. I gave him an imperceptible nod.
His rough hand clasped mine and I turned slowly to look at him. “No one understands, Rogan. How could they? No one understands but you.” I nodded, feeling as if the last eight years were melting away and I was huddled in Kir’s arms as we cried together by a campfire, the Guard ignoring us as we sobbed in a grief only we could understand. In Silvera we saw one another once or twice a month but I remembered how empty I felt when I heard he had run away, like some of kind of bond had been snapped. “You left me,” I whispered.