Midnight Jewel
Page 103
Another quiet stretch, both of us lost in thought, until I finally managed to say, “I think . . . I think I’d maybe like to see that someday. The lands up north.” It took as much effort for me to reference the passing offer he’d made the last time we were in bed, the one I’d dismissed in anger. I was no better than he was at admitting certain things.
Grant slowly turned his head and regarded me with something almost like apprehension. “Would you?”
“Yes, but . . .” Now I averted my eyes and stared off at the flame of a small candle. “I have to . . .”
“Your brother.”
I nodded, still unable to look at him. He sat up beside me and turned my face toward his. He kissed me. Long. Deeply. I wrapped my arms around his neck and wished the world could just be this simple.
“Can I come back tomorrow?” I asked, when I was finally able to draw away.
He ran a hand through my hair. “Bas agiba kor; kalichi hanek.”
“What does it mean?”
“‘The dam has burst; make way for the river.’”
I couldn’t stop the grin that spread over my face. “Well, well, you do recite poetry in bed.”
He smiled back, but there was an uneasiness to it. “It’s more of a warning than anything sentimental. It’s a proverb for when there’s no going back.”
I moved with a lightness in my step when I left. It was hard not to, with my body still humming and content. But it was countered by the darkness of all the uncertainty that hung over me. Uncertainty about what exactly was between us. Uncertainty about saving Lonzo. Uncertainty about my own future. And Tamsin.
She’s alive, she’s alive, I told myself. There’s just more to this than we know yet.
I reached the crossroads where I’d normally turn to reach the city’s main gate, but I stopped instead—so abruptly that a group of men stumbled into me. I stared down the street that led to the Dancing Bull and made a decision.
My Aviel wig had been irrevocably ruined in the storm. The one I wore now was a deeper gold, and I’d braided it back to further conceal me. Now, as I walked, I shook it all out. The color was close enough. I’d worn the mask out of habit, even though the warming weather no longer required it. And even without the starry cloak, the rest of my clothes would make me recognizable.
Sure enough, the tavern came to a standstill when I entered. Tom and his regulars sat at their usual table, and a couple of the men stood up. One of them was Elijah. “You’re alive!” he said, relief visible on his rough face.
Tom remained sitting, with no change in expression. He brought a mug to his lips and drank deeply. “I told you she was.”
“I’m surprised you gave me any thought at all,” I said icily. “You certainly didn’t last night.”
Tom grimaced and set his mug down with a thump. “Excuse me, gentlemen. This is a conversation best done in private, I think.”
He led me to the door in the back, the one where all the goods and supplies came and went from. Stepping through it, I found myself on a landing next to a stairwell that led underground, into darkness. Tom shut the door and faced me.
“I’m so thrilled to see you, my dear,” he said. “Though, as I said, I wasn’t worried about your safety. Not when I heard that the crew of the Sun’s Promise miraculously made it off. I knew exactly which agent of divinity had helped with that.”
I crossed my arms. “Were you so certain of miracles when you left me and those sailors to die?”
“I didn’t want any of you to die! You have to know that.”
“Then why did you leave? You only had to wait a few minutes.” I held up a hand. “No, don’t answer because I already know why. You wanted to get your gunpowder back to land before the storm got worse. You needed your profit because, as it turns out, you really do value your agenda more than your followers.”
“Aviel, it was a tense situation. I had to make an ugly decision, right then and there. Everyone’s scrambling for ammunition these days. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s worth a fortune.”
“I hope you got it then. Because I’ve come for my pay—unless you’re betraying me on that.”
“Of course not.” He reached into a pocket and took out two crown coins, each worth twenty-five gold. “And I swear, we won’t do anything next time that—”
“Next time? Are you serious?” I studied his face. He was. “Tom, there isn’t going to be a next time. I’m done with all of this.”
Now he doubted that I was serious. “Whatever for? You’ve done so well.”
“At boosting your image. That’s why you want to keep me.”
“Not true. We’ve done all sorts of great things together. If you want more pay—”
“I want to be done with this,” I interrupted, trying to keep my cool. “And I hope you aren’t going to try and stop me.”
He rolled his eyes behind the mask. “Of course not. But you’re being completely unreasonable! Look at the gold you’ve made. Look at the good you’ve done! Look at the poor you’ve helped. Look at the corrupt you’ve brought in line.”
“Through selfish, immoral, and illegal means.”
“Sometimes justice has a cost. Sometimes it requires sacrifice and unpleasant deeds. But the greater good justifies those tough choices.”
Tough choices. I stared, at a loss for words, suddenly having the surreal sensation that I could have been standing in front of my father. And that, I realized, was exactly how I’d been behaving. I’d hated what my father had asked me to do. But I’d always felt guilty for walking away when I could have possibly done something to help others. Tom had provided a redemption, a chance to strike out against those who’d take advantage of others. I’d believed I was fighting for justice in a new way. A better way. But at its heart, it was the same: a crusade that made its own rules and, no matter how extreme, found a way to justify them—even at the expense of others. Tom was as blind as my father had been.
Grant slowly turned his head and regarded me with something almost like apprehension. “Would you?”
“Yes, but . . .” Now I averted my eyes and stared off at the flame of a small candle. “I have to . . .”
“Your brother.”
I nodded, still unable to look at him. He sat up beside me and turned my face toward his. He kissed me. Long. Deeply. I wrapped my arms around his neck and wished the world could just be this simple.
“Can I come back tomorrow?” I asked, when I was finally able to draw away.
He ran a hand through my hair. “Bas agiba kor; kalichi hanek.”
“What does it mean?”
“‘The dam has burst; make way for the river.’”
I couldn’t stop the grin that spread over my face. “Well, well, you do recite poetry in bed.”
He smiled back, but there was an uneasiness to it. “It’s more of a warning than anything sentimental. It’s a proverb for when there’s no going back.”
I moved with a lightness in my step when I left. It was hard not to, with my body still humming and content. But it was countered by the darkness of all the uncertainty that hung over me. Uncertainty about what exactly was between us. Uncertainty about saving Lonzo. Uncertainty about my own future. And Tamsin.
She’s alive, she’s alive, I told myself. There’s just more to this than we know yet.
I reached the crossroads where I’d normally turn to reach the city’s main gate, but I stopped instead—so abruptly that a group of men stumbled into me. I stared down the street that led to the Dancing Bull and made a decision.
My Aviel wig had been irrevocably ruined in the storm. The one I wore now was a deeper gold, and I’d braided it back to further conceal me. Now, as I walked, I shook it all out. The color was close enough. I’d worn the mask out of habit, even though the warming weather no longer required it. And even without the starry cloak, the rest of my clothes would make me recognizable.
Sure enough, the tavern came to a standstill when I entered. Tom and his regulars sat at their usual table, and a couple of the men stood up. One of them was Elijah. “You’re alive!” he said, relief visible on his rough face.
Tom remained sitting, with no change in expression. He brought a mug to his lips and drank deeply. “I told you she was.”
“I’m surprised you gave me any thought at all,” I said icily. “You certainly didn’t last night.”
Tom grimaced and set his mug down with a thump. “Excuse me, gentlemen. This is a conversation best done in private, I think.”
He led me to the door in the back, the one where all the goods and supplies came and went from. Stepping through it, I found myself on a landing next to a stairwell that led underground, into darkness. Tom shut the door and faced me.
“I’m so thrilled to see you, my dear,” he said. “Though, as I said, I wasn’t worried about your safety. Not when I heard that the crew of the Sun’s Promise miraculously made it off. I knew exactly which agent of divinity had helped with that.”
I crossed my arms. “Were you so certain of miracles when you left me and those sailors to die?”
“I didn’t want any of you to die! You have to know that.”
“Then why did you leave? You only had to wait a few minutes.” I held up a hand. “No, don’t answer because I already know why. You wanted to get your gunpowder back to land before the storm got worse. You needed your profit because, as it turns out, you really do value your agenda more than your followers.”
“Aviel, it was a tense situation. I had to make an ugly decision, right then and there. Everyone’s scrambling for ammunition these days. I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s worth a fortune.”
“I hope you got it then. Because I’ve come for my pay—unless you’re betraying me on that.”
“Of course not.” He reached into a pocket and took out two crown coins, each worth twenty-five gold. “And I swear, we won’t do anything next time that—”
“Next time? Are you serious?” I studied his face. He was. “Tom, there isn’t going to be a next time. I’m done with all of this.”
Now he doubted that I was serious. “Whatever for? You’ve done so well.”
“At boosting your image. That’s why you want to keep me.”
“Not true. We’ve done all sorts of great things together. If you want more pay—”
“I want to be done with this,” I interrupted, trying to keep my cool. “And I hope you aren’t going to try and stop me.”
He rolled his eyes behind the mask. “Of course not. But you’re being completely unreasonable! Look at the gold you’ve made. Look at the good you’ve done! Look at the poor you’ve helped. Look at the corrupt you’ve brought in line.”
“Through selfish, immoral, and illegal means.”
“Sometimes justice has a cost. Sometimes it requires sacrifice and unpleasant deeds. But the greater good justifies those tough choices.”
Tough choices. I stared, at a loss for words, suddenly having the surreal sensation that I could have been standing in front of my father. And that, I realized, was exactly how I’d been behaving. I’d hated what my father had asked me to do. But I’d always felt guilty for walking away when I could have possibly done something to help others. Tom had provided a redemption, a chance to strike out against those who’d take advantage of others. I’d believed I was fighting for justice in a new way. A better way. But at its heart, it was the same: a crusade that made its own rules and, no matter how extreme, found a way to justify them—even at the expense of others. Tom was as blind as my father had been.
