Blades of the Old Empire (22 page)

Mai’s face appeared right above him, and Kyth felt a hand at his throat. He tried to fight back, but he had no breath left.

“Lie still,” Mai said through clenched teeth.

Before Kyth could react, the Majat’s fingers hit his neck in a precise blow. Pain shot through Kyth’s body. He gasped and coughed as the flow of air poured into his lungs, sweet like nothing he had ever tasted before.

Mai put a hand behind his back and helped him sit up. Kyth had no strength left to fight. He leaned heavily on Mai’s arm, struggling to stay upright.

“Now,” Mai said. “For your own good, stay out of this.”

Kyth clenched his teeth. He didn’t care about himself anymore, and he certainly wasn’t going to listen to whatever this man told him. But he was too weak to move. Fighting the feeling of helplessness, he watched Mai get to his feet and walk over to where Kara’s body lay sprawled on the grass a few paces away. The other Majat – the archer – was already kneeling over her.

Phrases of their conversation floated in through the mist in Kyth’s ears.

“Is she dead?” Mai asked.

“Yes, Aghat. That blow… it was brilliant. You–”

Mai’s glance stopped him. “Go find her armband, Gahang. You must return to the Guild as soon as possible to deliver the news.”

The Jade sprung to his feet with dog-like obedience, but as he turned to go, he hesitated.

“What about her weapons, Aghat?”

“I’ll take care of them. Go!”

The Jade turned and ran off in the direction of the camp.

When he was away, Mai leaned over Kara and quickly pressed several points at the base of her neck and in the center of her chest. Her head rolled sideways, and for the first time since the encounter Kyth saw her face. It was pale, her dark skin a lifeless gray. Her eyes were closed, her features hollow, devoid of the vivid glow that always made her so fascinating to watch. Kyth’s eyes veiled with tears. He angrily blinked them away.

Mai got up to his feet and headed back to the Cha’ori camp. As he walked past Kyth, the Diamond turned and met his eyes.

“Stay with her,” he said, without breaking stride.

Kyth found his strength, scrambled to his feet and slowly approached Kara. He wasn’t sure why Mai said this to him, and he didn’t care. The man was a killer who fought without rules. Whatever he said couldn’t possibly be important. And yet…

Kyth lowered himself on the ground next to Kara. She was still, eyes closed, face ghostly gray, almost transparent. He carefully reached over and touched her hand. It was cold.

Stay with her.

He carefully put his arms around her and lifted her up, resting her weight against him so that her head lay on his shoulder and she was curled in his lap like a sleeping child. From this angle it really seemed as if she was asleep, her long eyelashes a shadow against the cheeks, her full mouth set into a quiet expression that looked almost like a smile. It was so easy to imagine she was alive, curled in his arms just like the time they were together back on the boat. Except that now her body, relaxed against him, didn’t emanate any warmth.

Carefully supporting her, Kyth used his other hand to spread his cloak around both of them, so that her body would be protected from the wind. Then, he put both arms around her, holding her like a mother cradles a child, gently rocking it to sleep.

Sleep
, he thought.
She’s asleep. And when she wakes up, everything will be fine.

Around them the gusts of the Grassland wind ripped through the terrain. But Kyth didn’t feel it. Inside his cloak, it was warm. It had to be. He had to keep Kara warm, so that she could finally have her rest.

He hid his face in her hair and closed his eyes.

Ellah felt numb as she stood next to Dagmara. She couldn’t take her eyes off Kyth’s still shape, so small in the giant grass plain as he sat crouched on the ground, cradling Kara in his arms.

It didn’t make sense. It couldn’t be happening. Why would Mai and Sharrim do such a terrible thing to one of their own?

She woke from her trance as she realized that someone was standing in front of her. She raised her gaze and saw Sharrim. His freckled face folded into a smug expression. It didn’t go well with his usual look of childlike wonder, but he probably didn’t think it necessary to pretend when no one of importance to him was around.

“
Now
I know why Aghat Mai brought you along,” the Jade said. “If it wasn’t for you, we would never have gotten so close without raising an alarm. He’s just so brilliant, isn’t he?” He glanced at Mai walking toward them.

Ellah’s hands balled into fists. Her eyes filled with tears and she angrily shook them away.

How could she have been such a fool? How could she have thought that Mai really liked her, that he had asked her along on the trip so that they could be together? He had been
using
her all along, and she had followed him, like a blind, trusting dog!

“Get lost!” she snapped.

The Jade chuckled. “It’s all right. You’re not the first one to be deceived by his looks.”

Ellah’s hand twitched, but before she could slap him Dagmara caught her by the wrist. Her expression made the Jade step back.

“You heard Ellah,” the foreteller said. “Go.”

Sharrim’s eyes narrowed. He eyed Dagmara for a long moment. Then he turned and strode away in the direction of the Cha’ori camp. Ellah watched his retreating back, hatred boiling in her chest.
Why
would Mai and Sharrim turn against Kara? How could Mai, who had always avoided killing, go and do such a horrible thing?

“It wasn’t your fault,” Dagmara said quietly. “They would have done it anyway, with or without you.”

Ellah clenched her teeth, but a treacherous tear escaped from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek.

“I made it bloody easy for them, didn’t I?”

Dagmara shook her head. “There are things at play here bigger than you or me. Or them, for that matter. At times, we become no more than toys in the hands of destiny, and there’s nothing we can do about that.”

Ellah fell silent as Mai approached and stopped in front of her. He looked bad. His shirt, ripped from the collar down, exposed an oozing streak of red across his chest. Sweat and dirt caked his face, his hair matted with grass. Ellah had never seen him look so disheveled. Not that she cared anymore
what
he looked like.

“Stay away from me!” Her lips trembled. “Don’t you dare.” A lump rose in her throat and the tears she couldn’t hold back any longer rolled down her cheeks. She wanted to run away, but Dagmara’s hand held her in place. She struggled for a moment and gave up, looking at Mai through the veil of tears.

She hated him. And yet, she couldn’t draw away from the look in his eyes, so bold and intense as if he was able to see through her. Against reason, she felt warmth inside her as she held his gaze, anger in her chest slowly subsiding to give way to new floods of tears. She stood in front of him and sobbed, like a little girl.

“How
could
you?” she whispered. “How could you do such a horrible thing?”

A shadow ran over his face.

“I had no choice,” he said.

She clenched her teeth, fighting back the tears. “And what do you want from me
now
?”

His eyes flicked to a pouch at her belt. “Odara Sul gave you her elixir, didn’t she?”

“What?” She stared. This was the last thing she expected him to say.

His gaze showed urgency. “Do you have it?”

“Yes,” Ellah said slowly.

“Go and use it on Kara’s wound.
Now
.”

“What?” Ellah still couldn’t believe her ears. “Why?”

He drew closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Because you wish you could make it all go away, don’t you?”

Ellah continued to stare, but he had already turned to Dagmara.

“Gahang Sharrim needs to find something in Kara’s things and take it back to the Majat Guild as soon as possible,” he said. “It’s very important that he leaves right away.”

The foreteller nodded. “Go, help him,” she said to the Cha’ori warriors lingering nearby.

Two young men peeled off from the group and followed Mai to the tents.

Dagmara turned to Ellah. “I think you’d better go and do what he said.”

Ellah stared. She felt like she was having serious trouble catching on. “But Kara’s dead. What good could it possibly do to treat her wound?”

“If she’s dead, it certainly wouldn’t do any harm, would it?”

Ellah threw a hesitant glance at Kyth’s distant shape. It didn’t seem that he was aware of his surroundings. He was so still among the wavering grass that he looked inanimate. It was painful to watch.

“I’ll come with you,” Dagmara said quietly.

Ellah nodded.

When they approached, Kyth showed no awareness of their presence. He sat still, his face buried in Kara’s hair. They stopped a few paces away, waiting.

After a long moment, he raised his eyes. They were dry, their expression so empty that Ellah’s heart wavered. In all the years she had known Kyth she had never seen him like that.

She swallowed a lump and threw a brief glance at Dagmara.

“Kyth…” she began.

His eyes narrowed, as if he had just recognized her. His lips twitched but he didn’t speak.

“I have an elixir that comes from the Keepers,” Ellah said. “For treating wounds. Very serious wounds. I… I want to use it on Kara.”

“Why?” His voice was hollow, his face still like a mask. A frightening emptiness in his gaze.

Ellah hesitated. “I think it could help.”

His lips twitched again. As he tried to control them, his whole face contorted into a grimace. “You already
helped
. You brought them here, didn’t you?”

It took a moment for his words to sink in. It felt as if he had hit her in the stomach. Her eyes welled with tears. She clasped a hand over her mouth, fighting back a sob.

Dagmara stepped forward and kneeled in the grass by Kyth’s side.

“Neither you nor Ellah could have changed what happened,” she said. “It’s useless to think of the past. And even more useless to blame those who bring help.” She reached out to Kara’s body, but he drew back, closing in his protective embrace.

“Stay away from her!”

Dagmara’s hand dropped away. “I understand your grief. Believe me, I do. But however shattering it is, you can’t let it stand in the way of her only chance.”

His face contorted into a mask. His lips trembled. “Her c
hance
?”

There was a pause.

“I don’t know for certain,” Dagmara said. “But if she’s really dead, whatever we do to her can’t bring any harm. And if, by a very small chance, she is still alive and we can save her, you’ll never forgive yourself if you stand in our way. Would you?”

The silence seemed to last forever. Then Kyth drew back and opened his cloak to expose Kara’s body resting against him.

She curled in his lap, with her head on his shoulder. She would have looked asleep if it wasn’t for the ashen gray color of her skin and the gaping hole at the base of her neck. It was caked with blood, black against the dark skin.

Weakness rose in Ellah’s stomach as she stepped forward and knelt on the grass next to Kyth. She wasn’t good enough to do this. Yet, both Kyth and Dagmara watched her expectantly, as if she was a skilled healer summoned to the deathbed of a very sick patient.

She reached out and pulled the wet, sticky cloth of Kara’s shirt away from the wound.

“We need water,” she told Dagmara. “Lots of water. The wound must be very clean before we do anything.”

Dagmara nodded and gestured to the Cha’ori standing in the distance. One of them approached her at a fast run.

“Bring us five skins of water,” she said. “And some clean cloth. And, tell the man who did this to come here as soon as his companion’s off.”

Kyth’s hand clenched into a fist. “No! Not
him
.”

“He made this wound,” Dagmara persuaded. “He’s the only one who knows exactly where it goes and how deep it is. We can probably do this without him, but he can help us avoid a fatal mistake.”

Kyth looked back at her, his face showing so much hatred that Ellah’s heart ached. It was so unlike Kyth to be like that. She considered telling him that it was Mai who first suggested for her to treat the wound, but decided against it. Seeing the look on Kyth’s face, she felt that this information might actually make Kyth go back on his decision to go along with the treatment.

The Cha’ori arrived at a run, bringing waterskins and enough cloth to wrap a horse. Ellah took out her dagger and cut away the blood-soaked folds of Kara’s shirt, leaving the top of her chest bare. As she cleaned the skin around the wound, bloodied water streamed down, soaking Kyth’s clothes, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes focused on Kara, his face so still Ellah wasn’t even sure he was aware of his surroundings.

Every time she glanced at him her eyes filled with tears. She had never seen so much grief. It was worse because he didn’t cry, or seek any comfort from those around him. It was as if all this enormous grief was trapped inside him, tearing him apart. Ellah wasn’t sure how long he would be able to hold on. She forced the thought away, focusing on her task.

When the wound was clean and dry, she took out the small vial from the pouch at her belt and looked at it with hesitation. She still remembered how much pain it caused when Mai’s wound was treated, and how incredible was the healing power of the substance. She doubted Kara would be able to feel the pain, even if by some miracle she was still alive, but she was deeply aware that a single mistake could ruin everything. She wished that she had asked Odara Sul more about how the substance worked, or that somebody more experienced was at her side. She raised her hesitant gaze to Dagmara. As she did, she caught a movement further away and saw Mai coming up to them.

Kyth raised his head when Mai approached, his eyes so hateful that the Majat stopped dead in his tracks.

“Stay away.”

“I can help,” Mai said.

“I won’t let you touch her!”

Mai reached up and drew his weapon, sliding his hand along its length to draw the blades from its ends.