Settings

The Broken Eye

Page 160

   


“Huh?” He was obviously still recovering from the pain in his head.
“It’s what I’m doing for the White. I’m infiltrating the Order of the Broken Eye, Kip. I’ve already stolen a shimmercloak for them. My master was in the room with us, upstairs, when you said … It’s why I was … playing dumb? I didn’t want him to have anything over me.”
He didn’t react. She wasn’t sure he heard her. “Mist Walker,” he repeated. He squinted at her. Then he seemed aware of the cloak in his hand again. She’d never seen it before. To himself, Kip said, “He broke the rules, so that meant I could, too. Doesn’t look like leather here, though.”
“He?”
“Mist Walker. Fuck.” Kip stared down at his left wrist, where there was a smudge of color like a tattoo, but fading into his skin. “What the—”
“Kip, Breaker, what are you—”
He winced, his mouth open in a silent cry as if she’d just kicked him in the stones. “Oh, oh, don’t! Don’t call me that. No names. Please. You have no idea. Right now…” He blinked.
“What’s—”
He slung the cloak out and around her shoulders. It billowed strangely, as if it weighed nothing, but settled on her shoulders firmly. It was the strangest material she’d ever felt. Shimmery like satin, cool to the touch like brass, light as air and as heavy as responsibility. It had a hood that looked familiar.
He stepped back and squinted again. “Damn,” he said. “It’s perfect.” He looked back down at his wrist, and rubbed it, but there was nothing there now.
“Kip, what is this?” Teia was suddenly afraid.
“It’s a gift of light. It’s the Night’s Embrace. The Shadow’s Wing. Portable Darkness. A crutch until you learn to walk. To mist walk? I don’t … it’s all scrambling together. It was all so clear.” He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “And it’s not for me. Mist Walker. Damn. I should have gone for the gun.”
“Kip, I can’t take this. Why would you give me such a thing? This is—” She stopped.
They both looked at the cloak.
“Am I hallucinating again?” Kip asked.
The cloak had gone red. Red like passion, or a blush. And Teia knew it was red, too. That was no green. It didn’t feel green. Not in the least.
And now it shot through with blue, chased by orange, by pink, by a violet tinge. Each wave started at the neckline and coursed down to the hem. Now yellow. Curiosity?
“Oh,” Kip said.
“Oh?”
“It’s the cloak all the shimmercloaks were based on. Of course it’s the best.” He rubbed his eyes. “You can probably make it turn any color you— Oh no.”
He was staring at the cards scattered on the ground around them. He saw that he was standing on one of the cards and he moved carefully, lifting his foot as if the card might bite him. He bent down and grabbed the card as if it were made of rubies and gold, touching only the very edges. “Oh, Orholam, please. Please tell me I didn’t break any of … What the hell?”
He stared at the card as if it was offending him.
He grabbed another card.
“No!” he breathed. His eyes widened.
He grabbed more and more. Stared at each. What was he doing?
“No, no, no,” he said as he turned each over. “Teia, was this like this when you found me?”
“Was what like what?”
“Were the cards like this? No one came in and stole the real ones before you found me?”
“Kip, what are you talking about? They were all stuck to your skin. It was like they were poisoning you.”
“Oh, no no no no. I must have triggered one of her traps. No wonder it almost killed me. Out of all the times I’ve loused everything up…” He cupped his forehead with a hand, aghast.
“Kip! What are you talking about?”
He turned and held up a card in front of her. The back was illustrated painstakingly with geometric designs, lacquered with luxin. He turned the card. The face of it was blank. He showed her another card: blank. Another: blank.
“I’ve destroyed her life’s work! Janus Borig lived to make these cards, and she died protecting them, and now I’ve—” He took a few hurried steps away and retched noisily.
She came over and put a hand on his back. He was hunched over, hands on his thighs. She’d just saved his life, and this was not exactly how she’d expected him to react. Or at all how she’d expected him to react. Orholam, had she been thinking of kissing him?
“Is it really that bad?” she asked. No, T, he’s probably puking for fun.
“It may be worse,” he said, wiping his mouth. “My grandfather believed I knew where the cards were all along, and he’s threatened to kill me if I don’t turn them over. This? There’s no way he’ll believe this.”
“What, uh, what’s this other box?”
Kip sighed. “That’s my grandfather’s favorite deck. My father must have stolen them to spite him. They’re worth a fortune, of course. But one-of-a-kind, of course, so I can’t sell them, can’t hide them, can’t give them back without him knowing that I must have found these others.”
“Maybe this would make a good peace offering?”
Kip considered it, but then shook his head. “I don’t know why my father stole the cards. Maybe he has some purpose for them. When he comes back, I don’t want to have failed him doubly.”
“Kip,” Teia said gently, “you really think he’s coming back?”
“Yes!” he barked. “Yes,” he said more quietly. He winced and squinted. He seemed woozy, nauseated.
Teia went over and turned off all the lights except for the soothing blue.
“Thanks.”
“You’re still my partner, Kip. They haven’t taken that away. Not yet. Now, let’s clean this up.”
They began picking up the cards, and it was good.
Moments of companionable silence passed as they simply worked together. With the cards and the cloak and everything she didn’t understand of what was happening, Teia found herself saying, “I, I thought you were dead.”
Kip looked very tired. “I think … I think I was.”
“That would have been the worst thing that ever happened to me.” She’d wanted to say losing you would have been the worst thing that ever happened, but it was too much. Kip could say whatever popped into his head and get away with it, somehow. She couldn’t.
“I promise to die in some way that’s convenient and non-messy,” Kip said.
“That’s not what I’m—”
“I’m joking.”
“Oh.”
He took a deep breath. “Thank you, Teia. I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to find me destroying priceless artifacts.”
She laughed. Ripples of color went scintillating down her cloak. Whoa, what the hell?
“You know, I think I like that cloak on you,” Kip said. “Makes you a lot easier to read.”
She scowled, but the scowl wasn’t reflected in the cloak, so he could see she was faking, dammit. She shut her eyes and concentrated.