darkened blade_ A fallen blade novel - Kelly McCullough Page 0,110

getting ideas about taking a crack at the Son of Heaven—especially Faran, who had a rash streak—and possibly getting killed in the attempt. I wouldn’t have been able to keep it at all if Faran hadn’t been so badly hurt during the fight where I’d harvested that finger. But she’d very nearly lost an eye a few minutes before and had incurred a nasty head wound in the process. That, plus the fact that I’d had to work the spell very quickly or lose my chance, had made it just barely possible.

“I’m sorry, Faran,” I said, “but it’s a secret I’ve kept very close.” And one that wouldn’t have mattered anymore if those letters ever got sent—since the life of the finger was dependent on my own continued health—but I rather hoped Faran wouldn’t think it through that far.

Faran’s eyes narrowed sharply, but then her tone lightened. “You are so going to pay for that the next time we spar. Speaking of which, remind me to take some time to beat the rest of your secrets out of you later.”

“So, how long will it take you to retrieve this finger?” asked Siri. “It’s obvious you’re not going all the way to Tien to get it.”

“Three days round-trip, if I’m quick. Maybe four or five if the patrols are heavy. I decided it was best to cache it close to where I’d need it if the time came, but I had to make damned certain no one had tailed me before I placed it.”

I shot a look at Kelos. At the time, he was the person I was most concerned about finding the finger. He smiled serenely back at me, and I suddenly suspected that he had known at the time exactly what I was going to do with the thing and simply hadn’t bothered to follow me for reasons of his own.

“If there’s nothing else,” I said, “we should try to get that sleep now.”

Nobody said anything, despite Faran’s hard looks my way, so I headed for the cubicle to fall down for a while. Behind me, the others split up to sort out the sleeping arrangements. I heard Faran ask where the hammocks were, and Kelos tell her they were in with the other mission gear, which made sense. Assassins spent a lot of time waiting for the opportune moment, and a small hammock or sling hung high in a tree or under the battlements of a castle made a good place to lie hidden. I’d used one such when I killed Ashvik. Roric called out a moment later, asking how many people would prefer a rug, but I didn’t hear the answer because I had just opened the door to the sleeping cubicle and a sudden ringing in my ears blocked out everything else.

The square little room looked exactly like the ones we’d had back at the temple, right down to the furnishings. One small, spare wooden desk with a built-in set of shelves on one end for books or scrolls. One wardrobe/weapons cabinet combination with a set of hooks on the bed side for a sword rig. One thick rug suitable for extended bouts of prayer. And, one moderately sized rope-frame bed with a feather mattress—people who sleep in the day can use all the help they can get. The bed was designed for one, but could accommodate two readily enough if they were friendly—the goddess had never expected celibacy of her followers.

Aral?

What? I realized then that I hadn’t moved since I’d pulled the door open. Oh, sorry. It’s just . . . My heart felt like someone had closed it in a mailed fist. I’d better go in, hadn’t I?

The last time I’d seen a room that looked like this one was before the temple fell. The crushing homesickness the sight brought on now made me want to bolt from the underground vault never to return. Somehow, I forced myself across the threshold and quietly closed the door behind me. That plunged the room into utter darkness, and I felt a faint easing of the pain in my chest as I lost my ability to see anything.

What’s wrong? sent Triss. I can feel how much pain you’re in, but I don’t understand!

I wondered then if homesickness, like guilt, was a thing that didn’t affect Shades. I knew that Triss hated what had been done to the order and, even more, what had been done to me in the process, and that he had wished often enough

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