The Black Prism
Page 110

He turned to slip through the crowd—and found himself face-to-face with Liv. She stood with her hands on her hips, her jaw tight. She flicked her eyes to the horse and back to Kip. Gulp.
“I can explain,” Kip said.
“You already did. Twice.” There was no amusement in her tone.
She’d found both notes. Oh hell.
“Don’t stop me, Liv, please.”
“What do you think you’re doing?” She lowered her voice. “You think you’re going to spy? You’re going to find Karris? And do what?”
His jaw set. “I’m going to save her.”
She made no effort to hide her incredulity. “That is one of the more ridiculous things I’ve heard in my life, Kip. If you want to run away because it’s too dangerous here, you don’t need to pretend—”
“Go to hell!” he said, stunning even himself. Her eyes shot wide. He couldn’t believe he’d said that to Liv—Liv, for Orholam’s sake! “I’m sorry!” He said it too loud and some people around them looked at him. He lowered his voice sheepishly. “I’m really sorry, that was stupid to say, and mean. I didn’t mean it. I—Liv.” He paused, then bulled ahead. “I’m nothing. I’ve been a nothing for my whole life. And I’m being catapulted into having people treat me different because of something I had no control over? Because of my father?” He could see on her face that she understood. She knew exactly what he meant. “Liv, I owe Gavin everything, and he hasn’t asked anything of me.”
“He will,” Liv said darkly.
“Has he ever asked you to do anything wrong, Liv?”
“Not yet,” she admitted. “I’m just saying that you have to look out for yourself when it comes to people from the Chromeria.”
“And what? You’re not one of them? If you make me go back, you’ll be making me break my word.”
“What?” Liv looked like he’d just slapped her face.
“I swore that I was going to save Karris. Don’t you see, Liv? I’m perfect precisely because I’m a nothing. Look at my eyes!” Still confused, she looked at his eyes. “No color, no halo,” Kip said. “But I can draft. Liv, for the first time in my life, I know exactly what I have to do. No one is making me do this. I’m doing it because it’s right. There’s something tremendously—” He clenched his hands, trying to pull in the words. “Freeing. Powerful. I don’t know what, but I know it feels good.”
“Even if you go to your death?” Liv asked.
He chuckled joylessly. “I’m not being a hero, Liv. I just don’t like myself that much. So what if I die?”
“That’s the most awful thing I’ve ever heard,” Liv said.
“I’m sorry,” Kip said. “I’m not trying to be pitiful. I’m just saying—I’ve got nothing. I’m an orphan, at best a bastard. A shame. I just don’t have that much to lose. If I can do something good with my life—or even with my death—then how could I not try?”
He could see her wavering. For the first time, he had hope that he could actually get away with this.
“Please, Liv. If I fail in this—if I can’t even get out of the city—I really am a nothing. Please. Don’t make me fail in the most important thing I’ve ever tried to do.”
She blinked, then grinned. “I never thought what might happen if you turned that wily tongue against me. You ought to be an orange.”
“I do resemble one in general shape, but I’m not sure—”
“A drafter, not a fruit!” she said, laughing.
Oh, he was like a slippery drafter.
“Does this mean you’re not going to stop me?” Kip said.
“Worse,” she said.
“Huh?”
“You have to do what’s right; I have to do what’s right. You’re my responsibility, Kip.”
“Oh no you don’t.”
“Yes. I’m going with you—or you’re not going.”
“Liv, you don’t understand—” She doesn’t understand what? That you’re totally smitten with her? That she’s beautiful and smart and wonderful and amazing and your whole soul longs just to be with her, but you can’t imagine putting her in danger?
“I don’t understand what?” she asked. Damn it.
“You’re light to me.” It slipped out. He couldn’t believe he’d said it out loud. His eyes went wide even before hers did.
He’d been nearly physically naked before her when that assassin had tried to kill him. This was worse. He was paralyzed. His lips failed him.
“Very funny, Kip, but you’re not going to fool me and slip away when I’m not looking or something. You might be wily, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”
Oh, thank Orholam! She thought he was joking! A wave of relief passed over him, leaving his knees weak.
“I’m going with you,” Liv said, “and that’s final. You’re right: what you’re trying is a good thing. I know Karris is worth saving, and what she’s learned could change the whole war. And if you want to succeed, you’re going to need my help, and you’d be making me break my oath to look after you if you don’t let me come.”
He had used that “don’t make me break my oath” thing as the whole linchpin of his argument. He didn’t particularly like having it turned against him, but with his whole brain in a fog—his heart was still pounding hard—he couldn’t exactly counter it.
“Besides,” Liv said more quietly, “even if you’re not running away from anything, maybe one of us is.”
“Huh?” Kip said. “Huh” is the best I can manage? Great.
“I’m coming. Let’s go,” Liv said.
Together, they found the old man who’d been shouting at the crowd earlier, and got directions to King Garadul’s army: “Head south and follow the tracks. Thousands have gone already. If you want to join the army rather than be useless like the rest of the camp followers, tell the recruiting sergeant that Gerain sent you.”
The guards at the Hag’s Gate didn’t even look at them twice. Outside the city, Kip found a rock, stood on it, and wiggled his way into the saddle. Liv took his hand and climbed up behind him. The huge draft horse seemed to have no trouble with the weight. Kip willed himself to relax as Liv put her arms around his waist to hold on.
Still, Kip hesitated, looking north, looking back at Garriston. Come on, Kip, you’ve done dumber things and lived to tell the tale.
Not so sure about that. Still, Kip prodded the big horse and they began the long trip.
Chapter 67
It started as a dull throb. It always did. For a while, Karris hoped her stomach was reacting to the food King Garadul was practically forcing down her gullet. Karris hadn’t had her moon blood in six months. Like most of the women of the Blackguard, her flow was irregular at best. Their level of training simply precluded it. But when Karris had hers, it was like her body was making up for lost pain.
Damn King Garadul. This was his fault. The enforced boredom was driving Karris mad—sitting in the wagon, unable to do much, and constantly checked on. When they’d found her doing strength exercises, they’d sent in three drafters and two Mirrormen. The six barely all fit in the little wagon. Karris had been seized by the Mirrormen and laid over the knee of one of the drafters. Literally laid over her knee.