The storm made the streets a distorted maze to my night vision. The shadows and shapes I usually knew so well took turns melting around the edges and springing back into focus as I limped along at Degan’s side. I found myself watching my feet more and more often, hoping to banish the headache the rainy night was causing. That didn’t stop the ache, but it kept it from getting worse.
We stopped often, both to rest my leg, and to let Larrios get his bearings.
“Here,” I said to Larrios at one point. We were leaning up against a building, barely out of the rain beneath a narrow overhang. Degan was off scouting out the next few blocks.
I had a seed in my palm. Larrios peered at it as best he could.
“Ahrami?” he asked after a moment.
“It’ll help you stay sharp,” I said.
“No, thanks.”
I returned the seed to the pouch around my neck. I had been taking them at regular intervals since the fight with the Sashes, and now it was close to empty. So much for this supply lasting a week.
“What do the White Sashes want with the book?” I said.
I caught the shadow of a shrug. “Same as you, I suppose.”
“I doubt that.” Somehow I didn’t see the Sashes using the book as leverage against Ironius and his Gray Prince. As far as they were concerned, the more dead Kin, the better. No, they had been sent after the book for a different reason-I expected they wanted the book for whatever was in it, not for what it could do for them.
“You’ve seen the book,” I said. “What’s in it that’s so damn important?”
“How should I know?” said Larrios. “I can barely read. Besides, it’s not in any language I’ve ever seen.” He reached up to wipe the rain from his eyes and winced when his hand brushed across the torn and swollen skin. “I should’ve taken Kells’s money.”
“How much did he offer you?”
Larrios showed me a broken grin. “Why? You thinking of selling it to him?”
“Wouldn’t that be something?” I said, chuckling at the thought. Then I heard a sharp whistle. I looked up to see Degan halfway down the block, waving us forward.
Larrios guided us as best he could, but, with his damaged eyes and the rain, it was slow going. We had to backtrack twice, but eventually we arrived in front of the burned-out husk of a building. Only the back and the right side walls were still standing-the other two walls, as well as the roof, had collapsed long ago. The floor was gone, too, leaving a sodden pit that had once been a basement.
We were in the heart of the Barren.
“You hid a book in there?” I said, pointing at the morass before us.
“What?” said Larrios. “It’s not like anyone’s going to look for it there.”
“It’s a book,” I said incredulously. “The weather, the rats… Do you know what they could do to something like that?”
“I was in a hurry,” said Larrios as he walked up to the edge of the basement and looked down. “I didn’t have time to be picky.”
I limped up beside Larrios and squinted into the pit. It was tempting to push him in, just on principle, but I restrained myself.
The water looked to be knee deep. Tangles of blackened beams and broken stone formed islands in the dirty pond. There were weeds everywhere. A small sapling grew out of the rubble off to our right. I had a momentary sensation of dizziness and quickly moved back from the edge, nearly falling over Degan in the process.
Degan gave me a quizzical look as he helped steady me.
“I’m fine,” I said. His look said he didn’t believe me. Well, hell, neither did I, for that matter. I felt like shit and could barely make out the real garbage around me from the things my mind and night vision were starting to invent.
I took another seed for good measure, even though my heart was already racing.
“Where’s the book?” I asked.
Larrios was at the edge of the pit, staring. “At the back.”
Of course. We moved left, toward a section of the basement wall that had collapsed and formed a steep ramp down. Degan was practically carrying me by now. He set me down on a pile of bricks a little ways from the edge of the pit, and I gasped as he did so. Even though my head felt as thin as a piece of fine silk, I was still sharply aware of the throbbing in my leg. I closed my eyes and rested my face in my hands. Neither the seeds nor Eppyris’s drugs were working.
I thought back to the fight with the Sashes. I could still see the blade, could still feel it twisting and pulling at the flesh of my thigh. Still see it…
No. Think of something else. Something…
Athel is strapped to the barrel, head hanging to one side. He’s grinning his grin at me, knowing and mocking and ironic. His eyes are sharp and focused, questioning. What are you going to do now, Drothe? the look says. Will you die for the book, too? He laughs. Are you already dying for it?
Am I…?
“Drothe!”
I jerked upright. “What?” I said, looking around for the source of the voice. I had somehow slipped back into a reclining position on the pile.
Degan was standing over me in the rain. He looked worried.
“What?” said Degan.
“Didn’t you call me?” I said. “I heard my name.”
Degan shook his head. “No one said anything.”
I blinked the rain out of my eyes. “Oh,” I said. “Fine.”
“Drothe,” said Degan, “maybe you-”
“Where’s Larrios?” I said, suddenly noticing we were alone.
“He’s getting the book,” said Degan patiently. “You told him to go retrieve it.”
“I did?”
Degan nodded, his hat producing a small waterfall when his head dipped. “He wanted me to go instead, since he can barely see, but you said we couldn’t waste the time it would take me to search for it.”
That certainly sounded like something I would say. And it was a smart decision. I decided to take Degan’s word that I had actually said it.
“How long’s he been gone?” I said.
“Not long.” Degan knelt down next to me. “Drothe, I think we should get you out of the rain and check your leg.”
“When we have the book,” I said.
“There’s a building across the street that still has its roof,” said Degan. “We could watch for Larrios from the doorway or a window.”
I mustered my concentration and stared Degan in the eye. “I leave when I have the book,” I said, “not before. Everyone wants that damn thing so bad. Well, I’m going to get it. It’ll give me an edge in this whole mess. For the first time since this started, I’ll have the edge. Me. Do you understand?”
Degan returned my gaze for a long moment. I could feel myself beginning to waver-being out of the rain did sound good, so good-but the sound of feet scrabbling on the muddy rocks of the ramp saved me.
“Hey, give me a hand!” yelled Larrios from beyond the edge of the pit.
Degan smiled and gave me a light slap on the shoulder. “Lucky.”
“Stubborn,” I replied.
As Degan stood and went to help Larrios, I let myself ease back on my rough seat. Bits of broken bricks and stone poked into my back, but it felt wonderful to lie back nonetheless. I shifted slightly so I could see the edge of the pit.
I was watching Degan, down on one knee and leaning forward, his arm reaching toward Larrios, when I heard a splash come from somewhere behind me. It sounded too big to be a rat or a dog, and I twisted my neck to peer into the night.
He was coming fast, sword out, cloak flying behind him. For a moment, I thought it was our dark guide, come to betray us in person, until I saw the broad swath of white around his waist.
“Degan!” I said even as I sat up and tried to push myself into a more or less standing position. “White Sash!”
It came out a little bit louder than a mumble.
Somehow, I managed to lever myself upright. I still had my rapier in my hand, but there wasn’t much I was going to do with it. Nevertheless, I raised the blade’s tip as best I could and staggered my way between the Sash and Degan’s back.