against the Brotherhood of Slavers and Callatas’s plans, had allied with Nasser to stop the Apotheosis…and she had indeed almost gotten herself killed. Kalgri the Red Huntress had almost slain her. Cassander Nilas had conjured an ifrit and sent it after her.
Caina had survived, but only barely. Her recklessness had almost brought death upon her head…but would it bring civil war to Istarinmul?
Would her decisions bring ruin on others?
She lay back down, staring at the shadows upon the ceiling.
Perhaps she had brought war upon Istarinmul, or perhaps not. Maybe Nasser and Kylon were right. Perhaps Istarinmul would have exploded without her. Callatas had murdered tens of thousands of slaves to make his wraithblood, and would work his way through tens of thousands more if given the chance. Sooner or later he would push too far and war would break out…or he would complete his Apotheosis and destroy Istarinmul just as he had destroyed Iramis a century and a half past. Callatas had wrought appalling crimes, and unless he was stopped, he would do far worse.
Caina rubbed a hand through her hair. She had started growing it back, and it had just reached her ears. The web of lies that sustained her life was a thin one, and Kalgri and Cassander had penetrated it, but other than that it had worked so far. Most of Istarinmul thought that the Balarigar was a man. Nasser and his circle of associates thought that Caina was a man. Nerina knew that Caina was a woman, but she didn’t know Caina’s real name. Damla and Agabyzus both knew Caina’s real name, but they were Ghosts of her circle. Martin Dorius and Claudia knew who Caina really was, but Martin was the Emperor’s Lord Ambassador to the Padishah. Morgant knew who she was, but he was dangerously clever, and…
Caina blinked.
Kylon knew who she was, too.
She let out a long breath.
What was she going to do about Kylon?
She had been glad to see him, glad to see someone she had known from before her exile, and horrified by Thalastre’s murder. Then they had faced the Sifter and survived, and Caina had found herself drawn to him. She had always been drawn to strong men, to fighters and killers, and Kylon was one of the best fighters she had ever met. He was also a good man, dutiful and determined, still grieving for his murdered wife…
A wave of guilt went through Caina. Thalastre had been murdered. Corvalis had died saving the world from the Moroaica. How could Caina even begin to think that way about Kylon? It was a betrayal of Corvalis, a betrayal of Thalastre.
But they were dead, and Caina and Kylon were not.
She rubbed a hand over her face, trying to clear her mind and failing once again.
Why hadn’t she invited him into the safe house with her? If she was honest with herself, she missed having a man in her bed. She was drawn to Kylon, admired his strength and courage. It was not as if she could bear him a child. They could enjoy each other’s company while they could.
Caina closed her eyes and ticked off the reasons it was a bad idea.
She could not do such a thing casually. Perhaps some women could, but Caina knew she could not. If she took Kylon into her bed, she would give him her heart. She had done so with Corvalis, and losing him had almost destroyed her.
Caina could not go through that, not again. And given the enemies she faced, men of deadly power and purpose like Grand Master Callatas and Cassander Nilas and Malik Rolukhan, such a distraction could be fatal.
Perhaps she was simply fooling herself. Kylon was drawn to her, she was certain of that. But perhaps he still mourned for Thalastre and could not contemplate another woman. Perhaps he thought of her the way Morgant did, as a dangerous madwoman who made a useful ally.
Or perhaps…
She shivered a little.
Perhaps Kylon knew that he could find someone better. He was still a Kyracian nobleman, even in exile. Maybe he wanted to marry again, to a woman who could bear him children as Caina never could. Perhaps he wanted a woman who was not scarred by the battles she had fought, a woman who was not haunted by the horrors she had seen…
“Gods,” muttered Caina in disgust, sitting up again. She laughed at herself. The fate of Istarinmul and perhaps the entire world hung in the balance, and she lay in her bed fussing