The Black Prism - By Brent Weeks Page 0,22

your worthless soul, Kip. Swear it, or I swear to Orholam I’ll haunt you. I won’t… let…” She lost her train of thought.

Kip looked over at Sanson, who stared back silently, horrified. Kip’s mother’s fingernails dug in deeper, and her seeing eye seemed almost aflame, demanding his attention, his promise. He said, “I swear to avenge you, mother, by my very soul.”

Something like peace stole over her features, softening the hard planes. Then she laughed quietly, satisfied, somehow cruel—until her laughter stopped. Her hand dropped from Kip’s forearm, leaving bloody tracks. “I won’t let you down, mother, I’ll go right—”

She’s dead.

Kip stared at her woodenly, inexplicably numb. He closed her awful, bloodshot eyes. “Are you hurt?” Kip asked.

“Huh?” Sanson asked. “Me?”

Kip stared at him, “No, genius, I’m talking to the dead person.” It was cruel, thoughtless.

Sanson’s eyes welled up with tears. “I’m sorry, Kip. I tried to get her out. I was too late.” He was right on the verge of breaking down. Kip was an ass.

“No, Sanson. No, I’m sorry. Don’t talk like that. It’s not your fault. Listen to me. We need to act right now, not think. We’re in danger. Are you hurt?”

Sanson’s eyes cleared and his chin lifted. He met Kip’s gaze. “No, this blood is all—no, I’m fine.”

“Then we need to go right now, while it’s dark and raining. They’ve got dogs. They can track us. It’s our only chance.”

“But Kip, where are we going to go?” Odd. Just like that, Kip was the leader. Was it that he’d found some new well of strength, or was Sanson just that weak? No, don’t even think like that, Kip. He trusts you. Can’t that be enough?

What if I’m not worthy of trust?

“I’m going to be a drafter,” Kip said. “I guess. So we need to get to the sea. We should be able to find a ship in Garriston that’s going to the Chromeria.”

Sanson’s eyes widened, obviously thinking about what Kip’s mother had sworn him to, but he said nothing but, “How do we get to Garriston?”

“We float the river first.” Kip realized then that he’d lost the purse Master Danavis had given him. He didn’t even know when. So even if they made it down the river, they wouldn’t be able to pay for the trip to the Chromeria.

“Kip, the soldiers were in a big circle around the whole town. If they’re still like that, we’ll have to cross through their line twice. And the town’s still on fire. The river could be blocked.”

Sanson was right, and for some reason that made Kip suddenly furious. He stopped himself. This wasn’t Sanson’s fault. Kip’s eyes felt hot. It was so hopeless. He blinked rapidly. “I know it’s stupid, Sanson.” He couldn’t look his friend in the eyes. “But I don’t have any other ideas. Do you?”

Sanson paused for a long moment. “I saw some dead wood on the bank that might work,” he said finally, and Kip knew it was his way of telling Kip he trusted him.

“Then let’s go,” Kip said.

“Kip, do you want to… I don’t know, say goodbye?” Sanson nodded in the direction of Kip’s mother.

Kip swallowed, holding the knife-case in a white-knuckled grip. And say what? I’m sorry I was a failure, a disappointment? That I loved you, even if you never loved me? “No,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 12

The boys crept out of the cave. Kip went first. Apparently that was the price of becoming the leader. Kip had been under these same stars on the river dozens of times, but tonight there was hunger in the cool air. The wind had changed direction, and now the smells of the light, misting rain opening the earth mingled with woodsmoke and the faint, fresh fragrance of the oranges ripening on the trees. Always before, that scent had cheered Kip. Tonight it was faint, ephemeral, as fragile as Kip’s chances.

They made it to the river’s edge without seeing any soldiers. They’d floated the river before, all four of them grabbing a few planks of wood for extra buoyancy, but mostly just lying back and letting the current carry them. But they’d always waited until late fall, when the river was lower. Even then, they’d all sported dozens of scrapes and bruises from the rocks they couldn’t avoid. It was the middle of summer now, and though the river was lower than in the spring, it was still high and swift. That meant they would be able to float over rocks that would scrape

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