The Whitefire Crossing - By Courtney Schafer Page 0,170

in that pretty little house, behind all the silken hangings and ornate oil lamps lurked the most powerful wards I’d yet seen in Alathia. They must think it the safest prison they had on short notice.

Cara had met me at the Sanitorium with one of her crushingly strong hugs. I hadn’t protested, only buried my head in her shoulder and breathed in the leather and jahla-soap scent of her skin. I’d told her of the hearing with occasional breaks for cursing whenever Pevennar jabbed me with his gods-damned needles. Cara gladly rode with me and Lena to the guest quarters, and gave Kiran a bone-breaking hug of his own the minute she laid eyes on him. The half-shocked, half-pleased look on his face set us both chuckling, though our laughter faded fast under the cold gaze of his guard mages.

Later, Kiran stuttered out a low-voiced, painful apology to Cara for the dead men at the convoy. She listened gravely, arms folded. What she said in reply was too soft for me to hear, but he squared his shoulders, a little of the strain easing in his face.

They brought us a simple meal of sliced meats and spice bread that none of us more than picked at. Cara did her best to distract with a host of outrageous climbing tales, both her own and some she’d heard from her father. Lena listened with solemn interest, but Kiran was silent, and I couldn’t manage even a single grin. My thoughts never strayed far from the mages and the wards. I’d seen no opportunity for escape. I hadn’t so much as a single charm, my body felt weak as a soaked reed, and the moment I got within a body length of walls or windows, a mage politely but firmly blocked my path.

It got late, and then very late. Kiran and I sat before a stone fireplace in the opulent main room, staring at flames crackling over pine logs. The fire’s warmth eased the deep ache that lingered in my muscles, though it did nothing to thaw the icy knot in my stomach. Cara lay curled on a low couch in the corner, the occasional soft snore escaping her. Lena had left when the guard mages changed shift. The new guards were at least kind enough to sit on the far side of the room, giving us the illusion of privacy.

“Cara talked to me,” Kiran said. It was the first time he’d spoken in hours.

I turned to him, glad of the distraction. My head pounded from puzzling over one futile plan after another. “And?”

He sat curled in a tight ball. Red firelight reflected in his eyes and cast shadows beneath his cheekbones. “She told me about Sethan, and his daughter.”

I glanced at the two mages sitting silently by the door, and narrowed my eyes at Kiran. Before the hearing, Cara had half-convinced me I ought to explain the whole mess with Melly, play on the Council’s sympathies...but my first glimpse of those cold, stern faces had changed my mind. Varellian and her ilk wouldn’t soften out of sentiment, and every instinct screamed at me not to give my heart into an enemy’s hand. I’d thought to tell the Council of Jylla’s betrayal, to explain why I’d taken Bren’s job—but in the end, they hadn’t even asked my reasons.

Kiran sighed, his own eyes flicking to the mages and back to mine. “I wanted you to know that I understood...and that I know what you did for me. You tried to rescue me from Simon, and you saved me from Ruslan. Twice. You risked your life, and almost died. Even if...if things go badly tomorrow...please know I’m grateful beyond words. And if the Council spares us—” he straightened, his face earnest. “I can never repay you—I owe you too much—but should you ever need my help, you’ll have it.”

I shrugged, embarassed. “You don’t owe me anything. I knew Gerran meant to sell you out, and I said nothing. If I’d warned you, there’d have been no need for any rescues.”

“You had no reason to put my welfare ahead of your loyalty to Sethan. Especially after I’d lied to you, and brought death to your friends.” Kiran’s gaze fell, his arms tightening around his knees.

I winced to hear the echo of my own weaselly rationalizations in his mouth. “Keeping silent wasn’t right, and I’m sorry for it.”

Kiran gave me a sidelong, surprised look. “But—if you’d warned me, then what of your obligation to Sethan?” His voice