What Matters Most Page 4
"Because you'll be dead," Raslin said flatly, and then sighed.
He hunched his shoulders together, looking pensive. "You could go with your mother. She's missed you."
"I'm not going to change my mind, Ras," Kyros said quietly.
"Of course not," Raslin muttered, his mouth twisting bitterly. He looked away, across the circle of stones and into the forest. Kyros sighed, wishing there was an easy answer. There was, he supposed. He could walk away, but who would be left to fight the council if he did? He had supporters, and he knew plenty of people who would fight alongside him … but if he wasn't there, he knew at least half of them would be content to keep their heads down and hope they didn't attract the wrong sort of attention. There was also no one he trusted to step up and lead the fight.
Kyros sat a moment longer, before abruptly asking, "Do you regret staying here?"
"Sometimes," Raslin said, shrugging. He turned to look at Kyros, but his eyes were distant. The cold had brought out red high on his cheeks. Kyros' heart skipped a beat and he looked away. "Not as much, now that I hear what Alesdor is like. Are all the cities like that?"
"I don't know," Kyros said. "I've only really been to Alesdor."
Raslin nodded, glancing down at his hands. He'd wanted to be a clerk or a scribe, but his mother had taken ill and there hadn't been the money to send him to the city for training after that. No clerk or scribe would take him on now, either. Raslin was too old, and his hands too calloused from hard work.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up," Kyros said, when Raslin didn't say anything more. Raslin glanced at him, his expression inscrutable. Kyros cast around for something else to say, and landed on, "I hear Nikla got married."
"She did," Raslin said, and rolled his eyes. "To Angelos, of all people."
"How's that going?" Kyros asked, wincing because he doubted it was going well.
"She seems happy," Raslin said, shrugging. "I don't like him, but he's behaved himself after I threatened his balls with a scythe if he ever made her cry."
Kyros was surprised into laughter, picturing the look on Angelos' face when Raslin issued that threat. "I bet that went over well."
"Nikla yelled at me for it, but I'd rather have her annoyed at me than upset over Angelos trying to get into Marla's skirts instead of going home to her," Raslin said, shrugging, but a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "She seems happy enough. I think she's trying for a child, but she won't talk about it with anyone."
"I hope that goes well for her," Kyros said, jumping when his magical fire suddenly died with a loud pop.
"Do you know a lot of magic?" Raslin asked, changing the subject. He leaned forward, inspecting the air where the fire had been.
"A fair bit," Kyros said, shrugging. "It's mostly impractical and showy, but some of it can be useful."
"Like magical fires," Raslin said, waving his hand through the air where the fire had been. "What else can you do?"
"I focused on fire spells," Kyros said. "So I know a lot of little fire tricks." He pulled his hand from his pocket and extended it towards Raslin, who watched him curiously. Concentrating, Kyros stated the spell he wanted slowly and clearly, smiling at the way Raslin was watching him, curious and expectant. A small flame flared into life in the center of Kyros' palm. It tickled coolly against his skin, the flames flickering a pleasant blue-green.
"Nice," Raslin said, leaning closer. "Very pretty."
"Hold out your hand," Kyros said.
"This had better not be a prank," Raslin said suspiciously, but he obediently held out his hand. Kyros tipped his hand upside-down, the flame following his every movement. Raslin watched intently as Kyros lowered the flame until the tip of it just barely brushed against Raslin's palm.
"It's cold," Raslin said, his eyes widening as Kyros continued to lower his hand and eventually pressed his palm against Raslin's. The flame continued to flicker blue-green light from between their hands, and Kyros slowly pulled his hand away, leaving the flame behind.
"I'm very good at tricks," Kyros said, tucking his hand back into his pocket. Raslin continued to study the little blue-green flame, poking at it with his other hand. The flame flickered, but didn't go out. "It'll go out itself in a moment."
"Huh," Raslin said, tilting his hand. The flame followed the movement, tilting sideways as well. "Neat."
The flame flickered then froze for a second before shimmering into a fall of shining dust. It coated Raslin's hand and the front of his trousers, winking for a moment before fading completely.
"What else can you do?" Raslin asked, grinning at Kyros boyishly. Kyros paused—he should reserve his energy in case he needed to use it defensively—but what harm would a few simple spells do? They'd make Raslin happy, and Kyros wanted to show him magic, wanted to share the silly spells that none of his superiors thought were worth studying because they didn't hurt or threaten people.
"There's this," Kyros said, then chanted another spell. Raslin watched him avidly, and Kyros smiled, stupidly pleased that Raslin was so interested in his magic. Finishing the spell, Kyros waited a beat, not wanting to give it away immediately.
"What did that do?" Raslin finally asked, and Kyros grinned, drawing his hands from his pockets. Kyros held them up, showing that they looked perfectly normal. Holding his hands at a safe distance from both himself and Raslin, Kyros snapped his fingers on both hands at once, sparking a flame into existence from each hand. Gratifyingly, Raslin's eyes widened in surprise, and Kyros laughed, drawing his hands close one at a time to blow the flames out.
"It's only good for one snap on each hand," Kyros explained, snapping his fingers again to show it wouldn't set off another flame. "It also wears off after 24 hours if you don't snap."
"That's probably wise," Raslin said, flashing a grin. "If you forgot the spell was there and snapped your fingers, you could burn a city down."
"It also prevents interaction with other spells," Kyros said, explaining further when Raslin gave him a curious look. "If an object—in this case, my hands—had a spell on them when I cast another spell, it can cause strange effects."
"Like what?" Raslin asked.
"Like … to set off the flames, I'd have to quack," Kyros said, grinning when Raslin laughed. "It messes with the original spell."
"You make it seem so easy," Raslin said, hunching his shoulders against the cold gust of wind that swept through the ancient stones. "How long have you practiced those spells?"
"A few months each," Kyros said. He yawned, trying to ignore the ache of fatigue that was vying for his attention. Spell casting hadn't been the smartest idea; it had used up the last dregs of energy he had left after the trip to Ourenville.
"Learning to cast is the hardest part; learning the individual spells is easy after that."
Raslin nodded, mulling that over. "Do you know a lot of spells?"
"A handful by heart, but I wing most of them. Focusing on a single area of magic makes it easier to do that," Kyros said, shrugging nonchalantly. The cold fire spell, he'd winged. The snap-fire spell was one he knew by heart; he'd memorized that one so he didn't accidentally light himself on fire casting it.
"We should head back," Raslin said abruptly, getting to his feet. Kyros blinked, startled. Had he said something wrong?
Raslin extended a hand to help him stand, and Kyros took it.
Raslin's hand was warm and rough against Kyros' softer skin, and Kyros shivered at the touch. Stumbling as he stood—he was tired, and off-balance because of it—Kyros ended up closer to Raslin than he'd meant. Raslin didn't seem to mind, just smiled before letting go of Kyros' hand. Raslin hesitated, then stepped back, and Kyros stifled his disappointment.
Kyros tucked his cold hands in his pockets, making a note to figure out where his gloves had gotten to. Likely, they were still in Ailynn's house somewhere.
"You look tired," Raslin said, turning towards the path that cut through the woods and back to the village. "I'm sure you'd like to rest after the
trip you've had."
"Right," Kyros said, stifling a yawn. He wasn't that tired, and certainly he wasn't too tired to spend time with Raslin. Perhaps Raslin didn't want to spend any more time with him? Kyros hadn't thought he'd been preachy about the magic, but his presentation skills were rusty. He hadn't had anyone new to show off his magic to for at least a year.
It didn't matter in any case, Kyros thought as he followed Raslin towards the woods. In a week, he and Ailynn would be gone and what Raslin thought of his magic wouldn't matter.
What Raslin thought of him wouldn't matter.
Even if it did.
*~*~*
Kyros stirred awake slowly, reveling in the smell of cinnamon and apples and the sound of someone humming quietly. He was surrounded by warmth, making him loathe to climb from beneath the blankets that were piled high on top of him. Kyros had laid down for a quick nap after he and Raslin had returned from the ruins, intending to be up for dinner, but it appeared he'd somehow managed to sleep through the afternoon, night, and well into the morning.
The loft was more comfortable than he'd remembered it being as a child, but he suspected Raslin had added to the padding in the mattress. Raslin had shared the bed with him at some point, Kyros remembered hazily, but he'd obviously gotten up before Kyros had.
Kyros dozed for a while more, enjoying the feeling of not having anywhere to be. He was far too used to moving from safe spot to safe spot within the city or having to ride all day long as quickly as he could. Staying in one spot for a few days was a luxury he planned to take advantage of.
It was mid-morning before Kyros finally dragged himself from bed. His mother's movements in the kitchen downstairs were getting progressively louder, though Kyros wasn't sure if that was a hint for him to get out of bed or if it was accidental.
Knowing his mother, it was probably the former. Throwing back the blankets, Kyros slid from bed. He stumbled over to his saddle bags, intending to find some clothing, but someone had raided his bags.
Kyros' heart stopped momentarily, and he dumped the bags upside down, letting the contents tumble across the floor.
Everything was still there, minus his clothing, including the most important piece. Kyros picked up the puzzle box, thumbing the simple catches along the top and side. The top popped open, revealing a cubby. There were three gold coins and a silver ring set with an emerald tucked inside. Together, they were more than enough value to keep anyone from prying further or looking for more compartments in the box.
Closing the top of the box, Kyros pressed it down until he heard it click, then threw it back in the bag with everything else.
He tossed the bag back against the wall and then headed for the ladder that led down to the main level of the house.
"Did you steal my clothing?" Kyros called down, and Ailynn's humming paused.
"Raslin stole it for me," Ailynn called back. "He put some of your father's old things out for you to wear while I get your smelly clothes laundered."
Kyros turned, spotting the clothes folded neatly on top of a tiny bureau tucked in the corner. He'd assumed they were Raslin's, considering the loft was his space. Kyros dressed quickly, discarding the clothes he'd worn to bed in a pile. They could be laundered too; heaven only knew when he'd get a chance to have his clothing cleaned again.
Climbing down the ladder, Kyros dropped his clothes in the pile Ailynn gestured to. Her hair was swept up in a bun today, and there were little wisps of hair slipping free already. It would be half undone by lunch. She wore an old, stained apron over her simple blue dress and was busily throwing ingredients in a large pot on the table.
"Dinner?" Kyros guessed, leaning in to steal a bit of chopped carrot. His mother slapped his hand immediately.
"Hands off," Ailynn said smartly. "If you want food, check the pantry. There's some bread and porridge left over from this morning."
"Thank you, ma," Kyros said, stepping close and kissing her on the cheek before ducking into the pantry. It didn't take him long to find the bread and porridge, and he brought it back out to the kitchen, settling at the very small unoccupied portion of the table to eat. Ailynn continued to chop vegetables and hum, occasionally shooting thoughtful looks at him that Kyros ignored.
Ailynn finished chopping and set the pot on the second fire hook before pausing to tend the pot on the first hook. That was where the cinnamon and apple scent he could smell was coming from, Kyros realized. Ailynn fetched a cup and dished something out of the pot, then returned to the table to pass it to Kyros.
Kyros took a cautious sip, pleasantly surprised by the warm, sweet wine. There was an apple slice floating on top; Kyros fished it out, eating it slowly. Ailynn started to clean up the table, fussing about taking care of scraps and dishes while Kyros finished eating.
"Raslin and I spoke last night," Ailynn said as Kyros brought his dishes over to the scrubbing basin.
"Oh?" Kyros asked, keeping his tone light. He hadn't planned on pushing Ailynn about leaving. He'd planned to give her a day or two to come to terms with it.
"He thinks I should go," Ailynn said, her tone flat, suggesting she wasn't happy with Raslin's opinion. "He doesn't think you're exaggerating the danger."
"I'm not," Kyros said quietly. "I am sorry, ma. I never meant for this to go so far that it would affect you."
"Oh, hush," Ailynn said, waving her dish towel at him dismissively. "I would have liked more warning, but if you're sure they're going to come here …"
"I'm sure," Kyros said. They would try everything they could to shut him up, and he was sure the man who'd told him of Ailynn being in danger was on the level—at least, about that information.
"Then I'll go," Ailynn said, and Kyros sagged in relief. "But on one condition."
"Anything," Kyros said, too relieved to deny her anything.
"I want to stay here for the solstice festival," Ailynn said firmly. "I'll go after that, but I want to enjoy one last festival at home."
"Jallen and Ambry will be here in a week, ma," Kyros said, trying to come up with a way to say no. "I don't know how much time we have after that before the council's men get here."
"Surely waiting one more week won't cause any harm,"
Ailynn said, fidgeting with the dishtowel she held. "Will you be escorting me as well?"
"It's safer if you go without me," Kyros said, wishing he could see his mother off. It wasn't safe, though; if he was recognized, that would ruin the cover story that had her going to the opposite side of the country. "I want to go with you, I do—"
"Then you should," Ailynn said stubbornly. "It's not any less safe than sending me off into the sunset with two strangers, Kyros."
"They're not strangers to me," Kyros said, even though he knew what she meant. "I can travel part of the way with you, and they can stay here a day or two, so you can get acquainted with them."
"I'd be happier if they stayed a week," Ailynn said sharply, and Kyros almost agreed, but then realized that she was trying to trick him.
"You're only saying that because it will keep you here for the festival," Kyros said, rolling his eyes.
"Don't give me that look, young man," Ailynn scolded, drawing herself up and giving him a stern look. "I don't think it's too much to ask that I be able to stay in my home for one last celebration with the people I know and love, who I'll never see again."
Kyros hesitated, running his hand through his hair and trying to think. Waiting an extra week was dangerous, and there was no practical reason to agree … but Ailynn was stubborn, and he was asking a lot of her already. Even if they left immediately after Jallen and Ambry arrived, there was no guarantee that they would get away safely. An extra week wasn't going to necessarily trap them. No one knew where Kyros had gone, and no one knew Jallen and Ambry were involved, so they couldn't be followed.
"All right," Kyros said quietly. "But I want you packed and ready to go at a moment's notice, in case the council's men get here before then."
"Thank you, Kyr," Ai
lynn said, wringing the dishtowel before offering a small smile. "I'll get a bag packed this evening, after I finish washing the clothes."
Kyros nodded, hoping he wasn't making the wrong decision.
"Do you need me to do anything around the house?"
"No, no, Raslin has had it well in hand," Ailynn said, smiling fondly. "He's off helping collect firewood for the bonfire. They'll light it in four days."
"Maybe I'll go help," Kyros said, though he'd much prefer to hide from the rest of the village until it was time to leave. The fewer people who talked to him, the better. Somehow, Kyros didn't think it was going to be that easy to avoid all of the villagers, however, especially since he owed MacRaflin's wife a chat at some point.
"I believe they were heading out to the woods north of town. There were a few large trees downed in the storm a few months back that should be dried out enough by now to be used as firewood," Ailynn said, getting back to work in putting the kitchen back to rights. "Raslin said they'd be back for lunch, so if you wait you can go out with them after lunch."
"Good idea," Kyros said. He hesitated a moment, then headed for his jacket. "I'm going to get some fresh air."
"All right," Ailynn said, giving him a concerned look.
Kyros smiled in reassurance. He wasn't sure how successful he was, since Ailynn still looked worried. Pulling on his jacket, Kyros picked up his gloves and tugged those into place as well.
"Wait a moment," Ailynn said, bustling around the kitchen table over towards the screens that sheltered the bed downstairs from view. Ailynn disappeared behind them, reappearing a moment later with a long blue scarf in hand. It had been his father's, though it was much more faded than Kyros remembered. Ailynn wrapped it around his neck, tying it in place in the front and patting it gently. "There. Don't stay out too long, you'll catch cold."
"Yes, ma," Kyros said, cracking a smile at the old admonition. "I'll be back shortly."