The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy) (16 page)

"FLD?" Ashlyn repeated, stunned.
"They're here?"

"Oh goody," Vargo said dryly, obviously
recognizing the name of the former rebel group, which was the same in either
language. "Just when I'm about to get something to eat, I get
rescued."

"You're not rescued yet," Ashlyn told him in
Merchant Tongue. She turned to Kou. "What are we going to do? Are the
horses still at the livery?"

"Yes, and we're going to leave them there. I paid
a considerable amount of your credits to keep them out of sight."

"My credits. Great. So- what? We just wait around
here till FLD leaves?"

"I'm hungry," Vargo announced.

"Shut up," Ashlyn said.

"There's a side entrance to the inn. We'll enter
there and wait for FLD to turn in. I overheard your friends saying that they
have plans to scour the plains come morning."

"By then you and I will be halfway across the
ocean," said Ashlyn.

"What about me?" Vargo demanded.

"What- what about you?" Kou said, switching
languages awkwardly. "You're of no real use to us. We will leave you
here."

The red-haired man gave a long-suffering sigh.
"Nice to feel wanted."

Kou moved to the side, exposing a small red door that
Ashlyn hadn't seen before.

"Go," he said, shoving Vargo towards the
doorway. He held out a brass key to Ashlyn. "Left at the corridor. Second
door on the right. Stay there until I come for you."

Ashlyn grabbed Vargo by his collar, making sure he
didn't get too far ahead of her, and glared at Kou. "Where will you
be?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, as if to say
duh.
"I'm
going to watch your friends."

"Oh, dream
on
. I'm not going to stand by
while you
hurt
them like you hurt Drake-"

Kou shook his head, exasperated. "No harm will
come to them, I promise you. Injuring a member of FLD would be detrimental to
our cause."

"Detrimental? Our
cause
? Can you please
stop talking like a freaking textbook?"

His dark eyes flashed. "What I mean, Lady
Li," he said stiffly, "is that attacking FLD would inform them as to
our location. I will merely observe. I won't harm them."

"I don't think so. That's just a veiled excuse
for not attacking until after they see you. I'm sorry, Kou, but I don't trust
you."

Vargo made as if to climb the staircase inside, and
Ashlyn pulled him back. He sighed and let her push him up against the open
door, obviously impatient for the argument to be over. "Stay there,"
she told him, and said to Kou, "You stay with Vargo and
I'll
watch
FLD."

"They'll recognize you," the younger man
said, his tone threaded with irritation.

This time she didn't bother switching to Toryn.
"No more than they'll recognize you. You’re a Toryn. Not to mention you
were a prisoner on the airship
long before
I was a fugitive to my friends."

"Two days really doesn't count as
long before
,
I don't think," Vargo said, still pinned against the door.

Ashlyn and Kou ignored him, glaring at each other.

"I'm going," Kou said finally, teeth
gritted. "You're staying with the Spartan."

Ashlyn resisted the urge to roll her eyes; this was
going nowhere. "Over my dead body. What makes you think I'm going to stand
by idly while you wage war against the few remaining friends I have?"

He seemed to consider her words, and offered, "I
give you my word. I will not harm them."

"Your word?" she said skeptically.

"Yes."

"You won't hurt them."

"I won't hurt them."

"Even if they attack you."

"Even if they attack me."

"Swear it," she ordered. "On the holy
scales."

His expression was pure frustration. "I swear on
the scales of the sovereign deity Drago, I will not harm your friends."

Ashlyn paused, contemplating. On one hand, she wanted
to believe him. They were both sworn to the ninja code and thereby to the
religion of the Toryn. Swearing on the scales was like walking the edge of a
razorblade. If you slipped, you were as good as dead.

On the other hand, she would never forgive herself if
anything happened to Skye, Restlyn or whoever else might be involved. That
seemed like an awfully big risk to take on faith alone.

But it was the best offer she was going to get. And
Ashlyn had some idea that her friends were probably prepared for an attack; if
Kou tried, he wouldn't accomplish much.

"Fine. I'll stay with Vargo. You…" She
trailed off, unsure. Ah, heck. "Be careful."

The younger ninja nodded, looking relieved. "You
also, Lady Li. I will return for you when it is time." He turned away,
nodded courteously to Vargo as he did so.

Ashlyn bit her lip as she watched him walk away.
"Don't forget about me," she called.

Kou glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "Not
likely, Lady."

"Not likely my foot," she muttered grumpily,
shoving Vargo towards the staircase. "You better come back."

Vargo kicked out uselessly at the baton as he began
climbing the stairs. "Will you stop jabbing me with that
 
thing? I'm moving already. You don't need to
punch me full of holes to prove your point."

"Shut up," she said, without feeling.

It was a winding staircase, narrow and spiraling up
into nothingness. Just when she thought she saw the end up ahead, another
window looking out at the dark rooftops would appear, and the lantern-light
would fall on a whole new slew of stairs. Ashlyn hadn't even known there
was
a second floor to the inn at Industry. It sure didn't look like it from the outside.
Go figure.

"Finally," Vargo announced, stomping hard on
the last stair before he stepped up onto the polished hardwood of a constricted
corridor. He looked up and down the narrow hallway before glancing back at
Ashlyn. "Where to, boss lady?"

"Turn left. Second door on the right." She
hated climbing stairs.

When they finally reached the top, she unlocked the
door and let Vargo into the small room that would serve as their home for the
night. There were two twin beds lined up against the far wall, a worn bureau
shoved between them. There was also a futon next to the door and a window
overlooking the entrance to Industry on their left. Other than that, the room
was bare.

"Not much in the way of entertainment,"
Ashlyn observed.

Vargo leaned against the wall, and slowly slid down
until he was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up, bound hands resting across
them. "Please tell me I don't have to spend the entire night alone here
with you," he said.

"I'm leaving before dawn." She chose to
ignore the insult in his comment, and looked out the window instead. She gave
Vargo a compulsory glance. "Do you know who came here?"

"Hmm?" He was staring at the ceiling, the
lamplight dancing across his strong jawline.

Ashlyn looked away. "From FLD. I wonder who Skye
sent here, to Industry. You were at Eastern City. Aik would still be
researching, and I can't see Aaron leaving the airship."

"Skye and Restlyn were the only ones left on the
airship when they left me in Eastern City," he said. "Besides Aaron."

"So it's them." She took a deep breath.
"I'm glad they're together. Maybe…"

Vargo waited for her to continue. When she didn't, he
said, "Maybe what?"

"I was just thinking…" She plopped down in
front of the bed, still clutching the electro-baton. Her skirt poofed out
around her, riding up her legs, and she smoothed it down with one hand. "I
know Skye cares for her."

"He'll never tell her that."

Their eyes met.

"How do you know that? They were inseparable
while we were, you know, saving the world and all. Now they're together again.
What is it, if not fate?"

"Babe, there's plenty of ways to be together and
still suffer
oceans
between you." He broke eye contact, stared at
his hands. "I've seen them together. Restlyn might be crazy about Skye,
but he’ll never put himself in a position to care about anyone else, ever
again."

"I hope you're wrong."

"So do I," he said, surprising her.

It began to rain outside; Ashlyn could hear it
pounding on the roof.

"Do you miss Lord Angelo?" she asked,
wanting to change the subject.

"Hell, no." He fidgeted. "Maybe a
little. Remember the speech I gave you back on the airship?"

"The 'I believe in what I'm fighting for this
time, yadda yadda yadda' speech? Oh, yeah."

"Glad to know it meant so much for me to spill my
guts to you," he said, scowling.

"No, I…" Great. She felt like a jerk now.
"It meant a lot. I didn't mean to tease. Yes, I remember your
speech."

"I meant it."

"Really?"

"Every word." He worked his fingers
underneath the rope, scratching idly at his wrist. "We're doing the right
thing now. The only thing I miss about Lord Angelo is the certainty of
power."

"Certainty of power?" Ashlyn repeated.
"What do you mean?"

He frowned, looking like he was trying to think of a
way to explain his thoughts. "The DEMON army wasn't going to fall. At the
time it felt like a sure thing. Jackson's a good president, he's doing a great
job, but there's always a question of whether he'll still be in control
tomorrow. Take this war with Toryn, for example."

"Toryn and Lord Angelo battled for years,"
Ashlyn said. Her mother had died in that war.

"But Lord Angelo won, and there was never any
doubt."

She thought about it. The Toryn people had prayed,
battled, trained and sacrificed for that war. She barely remembered it, had
been a small child when her people were defeated and Lord Angelo took over. But
she remembered the pride that her kinsmen had displayed over the years, and
knew that it had only been lessened a little by the loss to Lord Angelo. Her
father had suffered the worst of it, and she suspected that was only because
her mother had passed away so unexpectedly.

When she looked up, Vargo was staring at her. He
didn't look away this time. "You have your thinking face on."

"I prefer 'deliberation face,'" she said.

"What are you deliberating?"

You. Me. The world as we know it. "Nothing,
really."

"Right." Sarcasm dripped from his voice like
bitter honey.

"You don't believe me?"

"I'm tied up and my wrists have rope burns,"
he said. "Not too inclined to believe much of anything at this
point."

"Ah. So now you're holding that against me. I
told you not to move too much."

"I think it was more the manhandling that did
it." He gave her a pointed look, and Ashlyn smiled weakly. She'd been so
concerned about Drake, she hadn't stopped to consider what yanking the ropes
around might do to Vargo.

"You goaded me into it," she muttered.

It was a feeble excuse, but he didn't try to dispute
it.

Ashlyn glanced at him after a minute. "Do you
want me to take those off?" she asked, jerking her chin towards his
wrists, resting on his knees.

A slow smile spread across his face, and Ashlyn
realized belatedly how many different ways her offer could be taken.
"Don't even," she said when he opened his mouth. "If you're
going to be gross, then don't even bother."

His mood changed abruptly, for the second time that
day. "Is that how you see me?" Anger curled around his tone like
something tangible, like fury needles stabbing each word with a vengeance.
"Something gross, something disgusting?"

"Only when you're…" Ashlyn saw the hope
lingering in his expression, and knew she couldn't be cruel. "No. I
don't."

"Good." He toyed with the frayed end of the
rope on his left wrist. "If things were different, Ashlyn…"

"They're not."

"But if they
were
…" He leaned his
head back against the wall again. "Maybe we'd be different, too."

"You and me?" She could have kicked herself
for feeding into his delusion, but she had to admit that some small part of her
liked knowing that Vargo wanted her, that he was harboring the same thoughts
that she often suffered.

"Yeah, me and you." He rolled his head to
the side, looked at her. "You'd really untie me if I asked you to?"

She shrugged. "What are you gonna do? I have your
baton, and as good as you are hand-to-hand, I'm better. I'm always
better."

"I ain't gonna argue that." He flicked his
wrists, and the ropes fell to the floor before he reached into his jacket and
pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

Ashlyn groaned. "I knew you were lying," she
said accusingly. "You could have done that at any time."