wanted to keep talking, to keep her talking. “What’s your name?”
“Why do you care? Do you think this familiarity will make it so I don’t want to kill you?”
Yanko sighed. “That would be nice. You forgot to mention why you want to kill me, by the way.”
“I did not forget.” Her gaze shifted to her favorite spot on the wall.
He was tempted to tell her that he had spared her life back on Kyatt, that he could have made sure those rocks crushed her completely. Instead, he had made sure she had an air hole, to ensure she would survive until her allies dug her out. If she believed him, she would probably think that just made him a fool. Maybe she would be right.
“Will you at least tell me if it’s because of something I did that I don’t realize I did?” Yanko asked softly. “Or is this something else that I can thank the mother I first met three days ago for?”
“You seem close enough now,” she said, bitterness lacing her words.
Yanko spread his hands, though he didn’t know what he could say to that. Condemnation by association? Given the circumstances, it hardly seemed fair.
“It is because of her, isn’t it? What did she do to you? She didn’t seem to recognize you.”
The woman snorted. “I doubt she would recognize a tenth of her victims.”
There, a confirmation of sorts. Yanko lifted his eyebrows, hoping she might continue. He wasn’t sure why he hoped that. What could be gained by talking to her and getting her story? It would only make it harder for him to fight her if she escaped and came at him again. And if she did not escape and if Pey Lu insisted on interrogating her and killing her, Yanko would find her death that much harder to accept.
“Do not pretend you know nothing about her actions,” the woman said.
“Not... nothing. I’ve heard the stories, read the newspapers.”
“Read the newspapers.” She sneered. She did that a lot for someone so young. Maybe she would get along well with Lakeo. They could bond over their bitterness.
“I grew up in the mountains, about three days from the sea. I guess you know that, since you were there, trying to find my brother and me. Were you the one who set fire to my ancestral home?” Yanko looked at her face. He suspected that had been Sun Dragon, but she clearly had no qualms about working for him. Maybe she had laid the torches. If she had, would he find it easier to accept her death?
Her chin came up. “I am a Hunter, not an arsonist.”
“Oh? Is killing twenty-seven mages better than lighting homes on fire?”
“Mages are evil,” she snarled, passion and real anger coloring her words for the first time. “They kill mundanes with their damned fireballs, as if human beings without the ability to wield magic are substandard, some lesser species of animal.”
“Not all mages are like that. There are healers and—”
“And what, White Fox? Are you going to tell me that you’ve never killed anyone? That you and your moksu family don’t think they’re better than everyone of humble origins?”
“I haven’t—”
“Three guards died at the correctional facility outside of Red Sky,” she snarled. “You let the prisoners go who killed them, prisoners who deserved to be there, murderers who had committed many crimes. But you’re a mage, so you think yourself above the law and above human decency.”
“I don’t think that,” Yanko said, though he had no idea how he could explain that night to make the events acceptable to her, not when the events weren’t acceptable to him. If three guards had truly died—and he found himself believing her heartfelt statement—then it was his fault.
“Why are you here, White Fox? If you are not going to kill me, leave me be.”
“If I leave, the captain and her Turgonian will come back,” he said. “I can’t stop them. Whether you believe it or not, I’m as much a prisoner here as you are.”
She snorted. No, she did not believe that statement. “Let them come. At least they are honest about who they are and what they intend.”
Yanko frowned, oddly stung by her dismissal. “I haven’t been dishonest with you.”
She turned her back to him.
For a moment, Yanko did not move, stunned that she would choose torture over talking to him. But she did not look back. She hadn’t even told him her name.
He left the stool and walked out. He didn’t know what else he