Fire shared the sofa with two monster kittens she'd never seen before. One was crimson and the other copper with crimson markings, and they were sleeping tangled together, so that it was hard to tell which head or tail belonged to which. They reminded Fire of her hair, which was bound now under a scarf that was clammy and cold. She pulled the scarf free and spread it beside her to dry. Her hair slid down, a blaze of light and colour. One of the kittens raised its head at the brightness, and yawned.
She wrapped her hands around her warm cup and blinked wearily into its steam; and found, once she'd started talking, that confession was a comfort to her small and ragged heart. "I killed Cansrel to stop him from killing Brigan. And to stop Brigan from killing Cansrel, because that would have damaged his chance for any alliance with Cansrel's friends. And, oh, for other reasons. I doubt I need to explain to any of you why it was best for him to die."
Tess stopped her work, her hands resting on the pile in her lap, and watched Fire closely. Her lips moved as Fire talked, as if she were testing the words in her own mouth.
"I tricked him into thinking his leopard monster was a baby," Fire said. "His own human monster baby. I stood outside the fence and watched him open the door of the cage, cooing to it, as if it were helpless, and harmless. The leopard was hungry. He always kept them hungry. It – it happened very fast."
Fire went silent for a moment, struggling against the picture that haunted her dreams. She spoke with her eyes closed. "Once I was sure he was dead, I shot the cat. Then I shot the rest of his monsters, because I hated them, I'd always hated them, and I couldn't stand them screaming for his blood. And then I called the servants, and told them he'd killed himself and I hadn't been able to stop him. I entered their minds and made full sure they believed me, which wasn't difficult. He'd been unhappy since Nax's death, and they all knew he was capable of mad things."
The rest of the story, she kept to herself. Archer had come and found her kneeling in Cansrel's blood, staring at Cansrel, tearless. When he'd tried to pull her away she'd fought against him desperately, screamed at him to leave her alone. For several days she'd been savage to Archer, and Brocker, too, vicious, out of her mind and her body; and they'd stayed with her and taken care of her until she'd come back into herself. Then had followed weeks of listlessness and tears. They'd stayed with her through that as well.
She sat numbly on the sofa. She wanted Archer's company, suddenly, so that she could forgive him for telling the truth. It was time other people knew. It was time everyone knew what she was, and what she was capable of.
She didn't notice herself nodding off to sleep, even when Musa jumped forward to stop her drink from spilling.
She woke hours later to find herself stretched out on the sofa, covered in blankets, kittens sleeping in the tangle of her hair. Tess was absent, but Musa, Mila, and Neel had not moved from their seats.
Archer stood before the fireplace, his back to her.
Fire half sat up and tugged her hair out from under the kittens. "Mila," she said. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to."
Mila's voice was stubborn. "I want to stay and guard you, Lady."
"Very well," Fire said, studying Archer, who'd swung around at the sound of her voice. His left cheekbone was bruised purple, which alarmed her at first, and then struck her as intensely interesting.
"Who hit you?" she asked.
"Clara."
"Clara!"
"She whaled me one in return for upsetting you. Well," he added, his voice dropping low. "At least, that was the main reason. I suppose Clara has several to choose from." He glanced at Mila, who'd suddenly taken on the look of a boxer who'd been punched in the stomach one too many times. "This is awkward."
By your own doing, Fire thought to him furiously, and your careless words only make it worse. They don't know about each other yet, and it's not yours to reveal their secrets.
"Fire," he said, his eyes low and dismal. "It's been some time since I did anyone any good. When my father arrives I won't be able to look him in the face. I'm dying to do something worthwhile, something I needn't be ashamed of, but I don't seem to be capable of it while you're within my view, and not needing me anymore, and in love with someone else."
"Oh, Archer," she said, and then stopped, choked up with how frustrating he was. And how funny it seemed, and sad, that he should accuse her of love, and for once in his life be right.
"I'm going west," he said, "to Cutter."
"What?" she cried, dismayed. "Now? By yourself?"
"No one's paying any attention to that boy and that archer, and I know it's a mistake. The boy's not to be trifled with, and maybe you've forgotten, but twenty-some years ago that archer was in gaol for rape."
And now Fire was near crying again. "Archer, I don't think you should. Wait until after the gala and let me come with you."
"I believe it's you they're after."
"Please, Archer. Don't go."
"I must," he said, suddenly, explosively. He turned away from her, held up a hand against her. "Look at you," he said, tears thick in his voice. "I can't even bear to look at you. I must do something, don't you see? I must get away. They're going to let you do it, you know, you and Brigan together, the grand assassination team. Here," he said, yanking a folded paper from his coat pocket and pitching it savagely onto the sofa beside her.
"What's that?" Fire asked, bewildered.
"A letter from him," Archer practically yelled. "He was at the desk just before you woke, writing it. He told me if I didn't give it to you he'd break both my arms."
Tess appeared suddenly in the doorway and jabbed a finger at Archer. "Young man," she barked, "there's a child that lives in this house, and you've got no cause to yell the roof off." She turned and stomped away. Archer stared after her in amazement. Then he spun to the fireplace and leaned against the mantle, head in hands.
"Archer," Fire pleaded. "If you must do this, take as many soldiers as you can. Ask Brigan for a convoy."
He didn't answer. She wasn't even sure he'd heard. He turned to face her and said, "Goodbye, Fire." He stalked out of the room, abandoning her to her panic.
Her thoughts clamoured after him desperately. Archer! Keep a strong mind. Go safely.
I love you.
Brigan's letter was short.
Lady: I have a confession. I knew that you killed Cansrel. Lord Brocker told me the day I came to your house to escort you here. You must forgive him for betraying the confidence. He told me so that I might understand what you were, and treat you accordingly. In other words, he told me in order to protect you, from me. You asked me once why I trust you. This is not the entire reason, but it's a part. I believe you have shouldered a great deal of pain for the sake of other people. I believe you're as strong and as brave as anyone I've met or heard of. And wise and generous in the use of your power. I must ride suddenly to Fort Flood, but will return in time for the gala. I agree you must be involved in our plan – though Archer is wrong if he thinks it pleases me. My siblings will tell you our thoughts. My soldiers are waiting and this is hastily written, but meant sincerely. Yours,
Brigan.
P.S. Do not leave this house until Tess has told you the truth, and forgive me for keeping it from you. I made a promise to her, and have been chafing under it ever since.
Fire breathed shakily as she walked to the kitchen, where she sensed Tess to be. The old woman raised green eyes from the work of her hands.