I’m not entirely certain why I didn’t.
Jude inhales once, twice, breaths vaporizing between us. “Craft binding. We’re linked.” I’m about to tell him tounlinkitwhen he quietly adds, “You could have at leasttriedto hold them off until I got there.”
I throw my head back, exasperated. “How should I have known you were coming to help?”
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves.
“How should you have known I would—” he finally says, making a point of looking wronged. “You think I didn’t know what they would’ve done? I’m not entirely heartless, Alistaire! In fact, I’d have been there sooner, but I was slightly detained after beingpoisoned.” I shrink back as he points an accusing finger at me. “And youdidn’t need me.Say, where did that terrifying resolve of yours run off to?”
His skin has gone nearly white. For once, Jude looks sincerely furious.
Fine, then.Good. I’m itching for a fight.
“Youare one to talk,” I hiss between my teeth, “aboutcourage.”
“Am I?” he taunts. “Dotell!”
“You’re a coward, Jude!” I shriek, and he aims a lethal glare at me. I go on anyway. “You’re a selfish Player who only ever thinks of himself. One with more power than even you know what to do with and a reputation you areterrifiedto live up to. According toyou, you’d rather go to all the trouble of using meto get out of the Great Dionysia than just facing it yourself!”
Jude’s eyes flash with the dark glint of a challenge. It occurs to me in a vague way that maybe I should be more careful about picking fights with Jude, based on what I just witnessed. But at the moment, I don’t care.
“Andyou,” he whispers back, taking a single step forward, and I raise my head, daring him, “are determined to bemiserable.” Stubbornly, I plant my feet in place as he stalks closer. “You harp on whatever odd imaginings about yourself that that ungodly cunning force of a mind churns out, plotting and conniving but neveroncerealizing—” He cuts himself off with a near-hysterical laugh. “You know what? You’re right. I’ve done you a terrible disservice, sharing my stage with you, offering you power, strength, knowledge. I’m sure the two of us are much happier shivering out here than wandering the warm halls of the Playhouse. My fault for saving you.Doforgive me.”
I reach for a retort, but the words hitch beneath my ribs. Ihavefelt stronger, less hollow, less cold. And maybe I did like the way I felt on that stage—seen. Seen and not feared.
Something in me resents it with a fierceness.
The familiar rasp of my tone returns, and I think I’ve almost missed it. “Thatwas quite the little show you put on back there to call arescue.”
“Well! No one else bothered,” he points out and shrugs. “In fact,someonetold them where you would be and where you were taking me. Someonefed them that information. And frankly?” He feigns a look around. “I don’t see whoever thatsomeoneis showing up to help.”
The air between us constricts. I find myself questioning if he’s not mad at me so much asforme. But something in me resents that, too.
“Donotact all high-and-mighty with me,” I say. “There are quick ways to kill and there are slow.” I shudder at the memory of scarlet smattered across white snow. “I’ll take my bets that you went for grandeur and spectacleas usual.” I lower my tone to match his. “That’s all you care about. Attention. And you always get it—fromeveryone.” I realize my mistake just a beat too late.
Jude tilts his head, that mean grin returning. “You could just say you’re jealous. It would save us both the time.” He shrugs again, then turns to walk off, calling, “Who could blame you? The world adores me, you know.”
Snow crunches under my boots, and I realize I’ve stalked after him.
“What, you think Ienvyyou? That I want tobeone of you?”
“No.” Jude turns cleanly in the snow to meet me, making the boldassumption I won’t stomp on his toes at the first available opportunity. “I dare say you prefer misery over company.”
“I prefer it over your company.” I flinch. I didn’t mean that at all. And the hurt on his face makes it worse. But I’m committed now. “You and your Playerego—”
“Myego.” He lets out a sharp laugh. “Do you know something about egos, Alistaire? Actors wield them like shields. Wear them like blindfolds. Shove them into every crack in our armor for protection. But egoslovemisery, and that’s how I know you have a vicious one. Pain is protection, too. Pain will blame everything outside itself and neveroncecheck to see if something is broken within.”
My skin goes cold. The world seems to slow as all I manage to do is stare back, mouth agape, feeling a little like I’ve been stripped naked in spite of my layers of leather and wool.
“Don’t pretend to know my mind.” I can’t help myself—I reach for my ire, for that thread ofpower,and it crackles like fire in response. But I can’t tell which side it comes from. I square my shoulders, tugging on that power and letting Craft burn through my veins. “You’re so used to everyone ogling at how beautiful you are, you can’t begin to imagine what it’s like to be me—” My voice cracks like a whip. “I amallowedto be angry.”
“Anger can be anything onstage given the right costume. It’s a pretty mask, that’s all. Tell me, what’s behind yours? I’ve grown curious.”
I huff a breath. “Charm is one, too—just as much.” We may keep different weapons in our arsenals, but they all still cut at the end of the day. I tilt my head. “Isthatwhy you came back?” He stiffens. “Because you can’t stand someone wandering the world who doesn’t worship the ground you walk on—”
“Is it so hard to believe that I care for you, Alistaire?” he snaps, and I freeze, all the harsh words rising up my throat dissolving. He presses a hand to his chest and adds, “Can’t I be good? Just for once.”
The thread between us crackles with power—and something more now. Something new.
