The Whitefire Crossing - By Courtney Schafer Page 0,34
show for it!”
“Oh, relax.” I slid a hand deep inside my pack and retrieved the carcabon stone I’d stashed there. “Why d’you think I made sure to chip out more than one stone?”
A gratifying mixture of surprise and relief flowed over his face. “You knew she’d take them?”
“I like to be prepared.” Too bad nothing else about the conversation had gone the way I’d planned. My jaw throbbed like a demon singer’s drum. More, I had a sinking feeling Cara’s forgiveness would be a long time coming.
I tossed Kiran one end of the rope. “Coil that, and I’ll pack up the rest.”
He began looping the rope over his shoulders. Without looking at me, he said, “When we were on the cliff, you didn’t tell me nobody had ever climbed Kinslayer before.”
It had the sound of an accusation. I slammed a set of pitons down with a resounding clang. “Didn’t we go through this already? I climbed it. We’ve got a stone. End of story.”
“No, I didn’t mean...” He hesitated. Twisted a section of the rope in his hands. “I only wondered how you learned to climb so well.”
Meaning, he wanted to ask me about Sethan, but he didn’t quite dare. Damn her eyes, why’d Cara have to drag the past up in front of him?
I shrugged. “Learned it young, that’s all.” And not from Sethan. No, for that I could thank Red Dal. He made sure all his Tainters learned to climb. A Taint thief can float more loot down from highside spires if he doesn’t have to lift himself, too. I’d been better at it than most, just like I’d been more Tainted than most. Yeah, Red Dal had been over the moon about me in my Tainted days. I’d been so proud to earn his jubilant smiles and fatherly hugs. Shame I’d been too young and dumb to realize he didn’t care two kenets about me, only for the profit I brought him. He’d sold me off without a second thought the moment my Taint failed.
Not a subject I wanted to discuss, either. Good thing I knew a quick way to shut Kiran up.
“How about you? What kinds of things did you learn as a kid?”
Kiran’s face went shuttered and still. “Things from books, mostly. Nothing like climbing.” He bent over the rope again.
Ha. Better than a silencing charm. It wasn’t until he finished with the rope that he spoke again.
“When will we use the stone?”
I laced my pack shut and stood. “Once again, there’s no ‘we’ here. You stay clear, and I’ll handle Pello.”
Kiran heaved an exasperated sigh. “All right, when will you hunt for Pello’s charm?”
“Soon as I know for sure he’ll be away from his wagon a nice long while.” Something that’d be a bitch to arrange, for a man as wary as Pello. Before I moved, I hoped to gain one vital piece of information on his charm stash. And unless I missed my guess, Pello himself would provide it.
***
(Kiran)
Kiran reached out a hand to feel the spray of the stream on his skin. The water tumbled through a rock slot in a white roar of foam. Never in his life had Kiran seen so much water, moving so quickly. The sheer wonder of it eased the bitter tangle of his thoughts and brought new energy to his aching body.
Even Dev’s mood seemed improved by the sight. He’d been stone-faced and silent all the long afternoon ride. As they’d set up camp for the night, he’d spoken only in terse orders. But when he and Kiran emerged from a pine grove to confront the stream, the grim cast to his face softened.
Dev straddled the stream, his feet braced in rocky crevices. His arm muscles stood out in sharp relief as he held a jug against the force of the water. “Nothing like this in the city, huh? Wait ’til we get over the pass—then you’ll see lakes.”
Lakes. Kiran knew what they were, had seen illustrations and even scry-visions of them. But to see all that water with his own eyes—he found it incredible to imagine. He couldn’t help a smile at the thought. Dev gave him an answering smile, one of his real ones, free of any trace of sarcasm or condescension.
Kiran’s smile died as guilt clawed him again. Memory presented him with Alisa’s voice, unwontedly serious. Every life matters, don’t you see? Rich or poor, we all have hopes and dreams, and people who love us. Her words had struck a chord deep