Lydia stumbled down the alley, rounding the corner to find Killian waiting, his dark eyes glinting with satisfaction. “I’ll do it,” she said.
“I know.” He gestured for her to follow. “Let’s go.”
* * *
“Why are you helping me?” Lydia asked as she followed Killian through the city.
Reaching into his pocket, he extracted something metallic and handed it over. Lydia’s heart leapt at the sight of her spectacles, which she immediately placed on her face. The world came back into focus.
“I decided to confirm your story. Found those in the stream. And something else, too.” He gave her an appraising look. “What in the depths of the underworld possessed you to touch a xenthier stem? Don’t you know how dangerous they are? They’re forbidden for a reason.”
“That’s nonsense. They aren’t dangerous if you know where they go.”
“Did you know?”
“Obviously not.”
“Then my point stands.”
“I would’ve died if I hadn’t taken it.” She blinked away the remembered fear of being underground. “I was trapped in a cave with no other way out.”
“The old rock and a hard place dilemma.” He stepped over a puddle. “Either way, I believe you. About everything. Your mark. That you’re not from here.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re helping me. You’ll be punished if you’re caught, so what’s in it for you?”
He shrugged. “I’m oath sworn to protect the princess of the realm. To do that, I need someone who can recognize the corrupted for what they are. I’m not averse to stepping outside the boundaries of the law to make it happen.”
“I’ve never seen one of them before. How will I—”
“Quindor said the corrupted have too much life in them; does that mean something to you?”
Life. With so many crammed into the city, it was everywhere, seeping off of the belabored people like a mystical fog. One glance at an individual told her whether they were long for this world, many of those sitting listlessly against the walls of buildings so faded as to be barely distinguishable from the stone. Killian, by contrast, was vibrant with it. Vital. Strong.
“Do I look well enough?” he asked, catching her staring.
Her cheeks warmed. “The theory makes sense to me, though I would have to see one of them to be certain.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
An understatement. “On the assumption you don’t intend to inform the Princess or the rest of her guards of the true nature of my role, I feel it necessary to point out that I’m lacking the skill set required to protect anyone, much less someone of her significance. How do you propose to convince them I’m an appropriate choice?”
One side of his mouth curled up with a hint of a smile. “By telling them so.”
“And if they question you?”
“My gut tells me that won’t be a problem.”
“Most men use their minds to make decisions, but you follow the advice of your innards?”
“Daily.” His half smile turned into a grin. “They follow a twisting path, but I find they always deliver. My brain is less reliable.”
It took her a second, but then she snorted and shook her head, the jest reminding her briefly—painfully—of Teriana. “You’ll be lying to them and, in doing so, putting them at risk.”
“Telling them the truth makes them complicit, which puts them at equal risk.” He exhaled a long breath. “Two of my guards were killed with their weapons still sheathed. They didn’t see the threat, which meant they didn’t have the chance to defend themselves or Malahi. You can give them that chance.”
“How do you know I won’t just run at the first sign of danger?”
“Because I’ve seen you in action. You’re resourceful. You’re not a coward. And you possess a certain quality that I consider integral to join Her Highness’s guard.”
“Which quality is that?”
“Selflessness.” His eyes met hers. “It’s the reason why I’m still alive.”
Lydia tore her gaze away, unwilling to tell him that she’d no intention of risking her life for girls she didn’t even know. Her father needed her. Teriana needed her. Which meant that until Lydia made it back to the Empire, the only life she intended to protect was her own.
Killian led her to the wall encasing Mudaire and up a narrow set of stairs onto the battlements. Fifty feet above the ground below, the view of the city and surrounding country was incredible.
Mudaire’s footprint was tiny compared to that of Celendrial, which was to be expected given it was a fortress city. The wall was shaped as a five-pointed star and was thick enough