Lirra turned to see Osten approaching.
“Are you all right, Lirra?” The young warrior had sheathed his sword, and though he was sweaty from his exertions, he appeared little the worse for wear.
“I’m unwounded,” Lirra said. She was glad to see that Osten looked at her directly, without suspicion or loathing in his gaze. The other Outguard soldiers kept sneaking glances at her, and while she had once been second in command over them, they now looked at her as if she were a stranger, and a dangerous one at that. But Osten had been host to the same symbiont she now carried, and if there was anyone in the Outguard who could understand what it was like for her, it was him.
Osten gave her a sad smile. “I wasn’t referring to your physical health,” he said softly.
She remembered then that Osten had fought back to back with Rhedyn against the white-eyes, and he’d no doubt witnessed Rhedyn betray them as he’d departed with Elidyr and Sinnoch.
“I’m fine.” It was a lie, and from the look on Osten’s face, he knew it, but the young warrior had the good grace to nod and say nothing more about the matter.
While Lirra had been talking with Osten, Ksana had recovered enough to stand on her own feet. Vaddon stepped away from her and approached Lirra. As he came, he drew his sword and leveled it at her. There was sadness in his gaze, but his voice was steady as he spoke.
“Lirra Brochann, in the name of King Kaius and his code, I place you under arrest.”
Vaddon stopped when his sword point was a foot away from Lirra’s heart, and though she could see the conflict in her father’s eyes over holding a weapon on his own daughter, his hand remained steady and the sword point never wavered.
“You can’t be serious, General!” Osten said. “Lirra is one of us!”
Vaddon’s gaze flicked toward Lirra’s left arm. “Not anymore,” he said, his voice now thick with the emotions he struggled to contain. “Please, Lirra … don’t resist. Let me help you.”
Vaddon was pleading with her in the same way she had with Elidyr, and the irony didn’t escape her. Out of the corner of her eye, Lirra noted the remaining Outguard soldiers moving in to surround her. She was also aware of Osten taking up a defensive stance next to her, and she knew he intended to fight with her, should it come to that. Ranja just stood off to the side, watching, as did Ksana, the cleric still too weak to participate in the drama unfolding before her.
Lirra had no doubt that she could escape if she wished to. She could use her whip to poison the soldiers if she wished, direct its barb to put out their eyes or command it to coil around their necks and snap them with a twist, and she would be free to go after her uncle. Elidyr was still at large, and now he had the Overmantle in his possession once more. He would be able to repair it in short order, and once the device was functional again, there would be nothing to stop him from opening a doorway to Xoriat, releasing the daelkyr lord and who knew what other abominations into their world. And she wanted to catch up to Rhedyn and demand to know how he could betray them like that, how he could betray her. All it would take was a single thought, a slight loosening of her mental reins, and her symbiont would do the rest. The tentacle whip would strike, Vaddon would go down, and she could flee to do what had to be done.
The thought-voice whispered in her mind then.
Do it! Rhedyn isn’t the only one who’s betrayed you this day. Your own father has drawn his sword against you. How many times have the two of you fought on the same battlefield? You supported each other after the deaths of your mother and brother, found a way to keep going when the grief seemed like it would swallow you both whole. And now here you stand, in the middle of a slime-covered street in Geirrid, and your father is demanding your arrest. Strike him down! He deserves nothing less!
Lirra’s left hand twitched, and she felt the tentacle whip begin to uncoil from around her forearm, but then she regained control and commanded the symbiont to remain where it was. The whip was less than pleased but did as it was told.
Lirra still held onto her own sword, and she sheathed it. Then she bowed her head.
“I’ll go with you, Father.”
A number of emotions passed rapidly across Vaddon’s face: relief, guilt, and sorrow. He then ordered his soldiers to take his daughter into custody. Osten stepped back, evidently unwilling to comply with Vaddon’s order, but he made no move to stop the other soldiers as they advanced. Lirra was glad. She didn’t want Osten getting hurt trying to defend her-especially when she didn’t want to be defended.
As a pair of soldiers grabbed her arms, the thought-voice whispered in her mind once more.
You’re going to regret not running when you had the chance.
And as the soldiers began to march her down the street, while the rest of the Outguard fell into line, Lirra wondered if the symbiont would be proven right.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
You know, my mother always said that curiosity would be the death of me.”
Lirra sat on the wooden bunk, the only furniture in the small cell, eyes closed, arms folded over her chest, listening to Ranja complain as she paced around the room like a restless caged animal.
“And she said if that didn’t do it, greed would probably finish me off. I should’ve quit while I was ahead. If I had, I’d have a pocket full of new silver, which I’d no doubt be spending on good food, good wine, and questionable men. Instead, what am I doing? I’m stuck inside a garrison cell with you! I never did get all the muck the creature released when it died off my boots, and it’s starting to stink something fierce. Even you must be able to smell it! The first thing I’m going to do when I get out of here is buy myself a new pair of boots and burn the old ones.”
Lirra could smell the stench, and it was rank indeed. But she’d endured worse smells on the battlefield in her time. She spoke without opening her eyes.
“You could’ve fled when Ksana killed the creature. None of my father’s soldiers would’ve been able to catch you. They probably wouldn’t have even noticed, given how focused they were on capturing me. But you didn’t flee. You stuck around and allowed yourself to be brought to the garrison. Why?”
Ranja stopped pacing and sat on the bunk next to Lirra.
“I plead temporary insanity.”
Lirra smiled, though she still didn’t open her eyes. “I see two other possibilities: One, you still think there’s a way to turn this situation to your advantage-and increase your profit in the process. After all, given the skills you’ve acquired in your profession, you can probably escape whenever you want to.” Lirra didn’t want to refer directly to Ranja being a freelance spy, for the two warforged were standing guard just outside the cell door.
Ranja didn’t deny Lirra’s words. Instead, she asked, “What’s the second possibility?”
“That you’re not quite as much of a cold-hearted silver-hungry mercenary as you pretend to be, and you didn’t want to abandon a new friend.”
Ranja laughed, though it sounded a trifle forced to Lirra. “Shows what you know! Now I have no doubt that bonding with a symbiont has affected your mind.”
The tentacle whip had been mostly still since they reached the garrison, but it moved slightly against her forearm, as if irritated by Ranja’s words. Lirra ignored it.
“You must be getting used to my carrying a symbiont,” Lirra said. “You no longer keep your distance like you did when we met.”
“I suppose I am getting used to it … a little. Besides, the scent of the thing is mild compared to the stench of the white-eye muck.” Ranja paused before going on. “I’ve seen you in action a couple times now, Lirra. I know you can control your symbiont, at least as much as anyone can. I may not trust the damned thing that’s attached itself to your body, but I trust you.”
More fool, you, the thought-voice said.