I nodded. I knew why he had to do it-not for the emperor, or even the empire at this point, but for himself.
Degan put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s for the best,” he said.
“I know.”
Degan nodded and turned back around. That was when I hit him in the back of the head with the rope.
I couldn’t ask him to change his mind, but I couldn’t let him destroy the book, either. And that meant I had to take the decision away from him, no matter how much it ripped me apart inside.
There was a small flash and a pop. Degan staggered a step, then fell. Iron’s sword hit the paving stones with a clatter.
I could smell the bitter scent of singed hair as I knelt down next to my friend. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice almost breaking, “but I can’t let it happen like this.”
Degan was blinking rapidly, his eyes wide with surprise and shock. His mouth moved, but no words came out. I couldn’t even be sure he was hearing me. Still, I reached out and pushed Iron’s sword out of his reach, just in case.
“If it matters,” I said, “it’s not about the emperor or the empire-not anymore. If it were only that, I’d say to hell with it and toss the journal into the fire for you. I could give a crap about Dorminikos compared to my Oath to you. But it’s more than that. It’s Christiana and Kells and the people I’ve sworn to protect. It’s about the Kin being hunted down by the Whites all over again, just because a couple of us stumbled across the wrong piece of history. You were right when you said Shadow and the empire won’t stop, but they aren’t just going to come after me. They’re going to come after everything that matters to me. And I can’t let that happen-not even for you.”
Degan’s hand twitched feebly toward me. I pushed it gently aside.
“As long as I have the journal,” I said, standing, “I have options and I have leverage. And right now, that’s what I need. Destroying it would take all of those away.”
I looked down at Degan. His eyes were still shifting, still trying to focus on me, but there was a hard set to his jaw. He’d heard me, I guessed, and still could.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “For breaking the Oath, for what you did for me, for…” I looked at the rope and threw it away. “I’m just… sorry.”
Degan lay there and twitched and glowered. I turned away.
I looked around the square, wiped at my eyes, and looked again more clearly. I saw Spyro peering out from behind the curtain of his father’s stall.
“Spyro!” I yelled. The boy’s eyes grew wide, and he started to edge away. “Don’t you dare run, damn you!” I gestured at Degan. “Come get him inside your stall. Now!”
Spyro came loping over. We half carried, half dragged Degan across the square. Degan mouthed silent curses at me weakly, but otherwise didn’t put up a fight.
Mendross was peering out from behind the curtain when we arrived. His face was a mess-bloody and battered, the bruises just beginning to rise-but he nodded to me nonetheless. I nodded back, dropped all the money I had on me into a nearby basket, and gathered up the journal at Leander’s feet.
On the way out of the square, I stooped to pick up Iron Degan’s sword as well. I’d be damned if I was going to let it end up in some pawnbroker’s shop.
As I ran into the evening, I could hear the Rags arriving in Fifth Angel Square. Their timing was impeccable, as usual.
The moon had set, and I could detect a faint brightening in the east as I entered the Raffa Na’Ir cordon. The streets were silent except for the shuffling and cursing that came from behind me.
I stopped at a crossroads and waited. My right hand fiddled with the handle of my sheathed rapier.
“Damn you, Drothe-I told you I couldn’t make it all the way here,” said Baldezar.
“And yet you did.”
“No thanks to you.”
I watched as the Jarkman came limping up. He was using a crutch, his left leg bandaged and bound between two wooden supports. It hadn’t fully healed yet, and never would-not properly. Fowler’s cut had done more than just bite into muscle; it had cut tendon and broken bone. Baldezar was a cripple now.
On his back, Baldezar wore a large satchel filled with pens and inks, along with parchment and jars of treatments for the same. I had not offered to carry it. This was one instance where I did not regret my part in the outcome of events. He had tried to kill me-hobbling about the rest of his days was a smaller price than I would have paid had things been reversed.
And yet, Baldezar still carried himself with arrogance. Head high, shoulders as far back as he could manage with his crutch; he was a master of his craft and his guild, and he wasn’t about to let anyone forget it-even me. It was hard to feel pity for someone like that.
“The least we could have done was hire a litter,” Baldezar said as he came up beside me.
“The fewer people who know you’re with me, the better.” It was why I had kept at least a block ahead or behind him on the way here and why I had not paused to speak with him until now. Here, the only eyes that would see us were indifferent to both the Kin and the empire.
Baldezar humphed and readjusted the pack on his back. “Now what?” he said.
“Now,” said a smooth voice from the darkness, “you come with me.”
Baldezar jumped and nearly fell off his crutch as Jelem slipped out of a doorway. I noted he had been standing in a place where I should have been able to see him with my night vision.
“Nice trick,” I said.
“It’s neither nice nor a trick,” said Jelem. “It’s hard work. And you should be grateful I came at all.”
Jelem had been less than excited when I had found him earlier and demanded he find a safe house for me in the Raffa Na’Ir. His enthusiasm had dropped even further when I also told him I needed to collect Baldezar before we went to ground. In the end, it was only the promise of answers and more material rewards that had swayed Jelem to stick his neck out this far.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m keeping close track of who does me favors anymore.”
“That ought to be a short list, then, from what I hear,” said Jelem. “Come.”
I swallowed my retort and followed Jelem deeper into the Raffa Na’Ir. He doubled back on our path several times and paused twice to mutter glimmer into the night. Shortly after the second speaking, we arrived at a green door set in an otherwise unobtrusive mudbrick house. We passed through two rooms, out into an overgrown courtyard, and then into a separate, smaller outbuilding. It had once been a tack room, and a few harnesses and bridles still hung from dusty pegs in the walls. The place smelled faintly of leather.
Two tables, a pair of chairs, and a small chest occupied the space now, along with three tattered bedrolls piled up in the corner. A darkened lantern hung from a ceiling beam, and there was a scattering of candles about the room. Only one candle was lit. Two layers of heavy fabric had been hung across the single window to keep even that feeble light from escaping.
“There’s only one door,” I said. “That’s no good if anyone finds us-there’ll be no place to run.”
“Run?” said Jelem. “You said you wanted someplace to hide from both the empire and the Kin. If either of them finds you, it doesn’t matter if there are five doors, ten windows, and seven chimneys; you won’t be going anywhere.”
He had a point.
“How very reassuring,” grumbled Baldezar as he limped over and settled himself into one of the chairs with a moan. “Very well,” he said. “I am here.” He gestured at Jelem. “That is here. What is it you want us to do, exactly?”
Jelem arched a dark eyebrow at Baldezar but remained silent.
I eyed both men, still hesitant, still unsure whether I could do this. It was desecration of a sort far worse than smuggling a holy tract or selling a talisman of belief. This was a desecration of the truth-of truths far older and deeper than I had any right to tamper with.
Except, as I had told Degan, there was no other choice-not after all of this.