Taking a deep breath, I push up onto my elbows, then slowly turn to find Chiyo sprawled out on an armchair. Her head hangs back, her mouth agape, and her legs are splayed with her arms hanging down at her sides. Her bum is dangerously close to the edge of the seat. I fear she’ll slide right off. The sight is so comical, I nearly smile.
The door opens and Kilkenny steps in. A smile slowly spreads across his face as he one-handedly signs, “It’s good to see those brown eyes of yours again.” He holds a metal pitcher in his other hand, which he sets down on a bureau before walking over to his sister. He taps her on the shoulder, and she jumps up, her hand moving toward a dagger sheathed in her leather vest.
“Whoa,” Kilkenny says, immediately getting into a defensive stance.
The siblings are just alike—always ready to fight.
Where are Alys and… Osheen? I lay flat again, pressing my hands over my eyes. Saliva fills my mouth, and my throat feels like it’s been scorched. The bed compresses. When I look, Kilkenny is sitting at the edge beside me. Chiyo is gone.
“Alys suggested that you have a nice, hot bath and get some broth into your stomach. I can call for the tub to be filled, if you like?”
A bath sounds wonderful. I push myself upright slowly and lean back against the headboard. Not wanting to move my head too much, I survey my surroundings with my eyes, but even that makes everything wavery. The bed takes up most of the small room. There’s a massive bureau against the wall next to the door, and the curtains behind the bed are drawn, keeping the room dark save for the few candles on the side table and bureau. To my right, there’s another door—the bathing chamber, I believe—and the walls are covered with gaudy framed paintings of landscapes.
“Where are we?”
“Dead Man’s Inn,” Kilkenny says.
I make a face. “That’s an awful name.”
He chuckles and motions, “It is. But the services are more than decent.”
“How long has it been?”
“Two days,” he says. “No word of any Forayers, raids, or anything like that, though.”
Panic returns as I remember what happened on the cliffs. “Carys’s wristlet.”
“Chiyoko destroyed it and flung it off the cliff.”
I relax and rub my hands down my face. Then I remember the shadows that shot from my hands and I pull them away abruptly. My hands are weapons… of darkness. A tremor runs through me as I stare down at my palms. The shaking intensifies until Kilkenny takes both of my hands into his. “Don’t,” I say quickly, my fear spiking. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
He turns my hands over, palms up, and gently runs his thumbs over the map of lines. If he were a palm reader, what would he see? Destruction? Violence? Corruption? Death?
“Kindness,” he says to me. “Selflessness, bravery, far too much self-loathing…”
I stare at his lips, at the words he carefully speaks. “Did you just?—?”
“Yes, sorry.” He smiles wryly. “It’s hard not to when you’re thinking so loudly.”
I breathe out the smallest of laughs.
“Now…” says Kilkenny. “I regret to say that you are in desperate need of a bath.”
My jaw drops. “Are you saying that I stink?”
“You’re… a tad ripe.” A small smile touches his lips.
He’s not wrong, sadly. “Alright, then I guess we should get that bath going.”
Kilkenny lowers my hands, but as he stands, he leans over and kisses my forehead. The gesture is so achingly tender that I don’t know what to say or do. He pours me a cup of water, and I sip it slowly as he leaves the room. Once the cup is empty, I very slowly sit up from the headboard, turning so that my legs hang off the bed. My head is light, so I remain still, getting used to the sensation of sitting up again.
It isn’t long before Kilkenny returns with a wooden bucket of water in hand. “This is Seren,” he says, stepping aside to reveal a woman behind him. He discretely fingerspells her name before bending to lift the second bucket of water at his feet. The fair-skinned woman has short strawberry blond hair and an endearingly crooked smile. She follows Kilkenny into the room.
“Hello, miss,” she says.
“Hello. And thank you.”
