Silly, stubborn girl. She should be somewhere protected, especially after the grievous breach of security that was this last rebel attack. Where the hell was General Isek when the attackers arrived? Where was Thaane? I’m tired of resorting to violence to quell violence, but I cannot allow this to stand without harsh reprimand. It would make me look pathetically weak to Azarii’s rebels, and worse than that, to the Shadow Court, whose belief in me is already wavering like a buffeted brazier flame. I will need to call upon the darkest, cruelest parts of me to answer such gross incompetence.
But all I can think about right now is that Kori should be anywhere but here. And isn’t that exactly the problem? When did this girl invade my bloodstream as surely as the freezeblade? And is there any healer to be found on Pagomènos who could purge an infection such as that?
Kori should be somewheresafe.Not here with me, whereverhereis—alone with me, no less, and my shattered strength nowhere near enough to stop it if a fresh wave of armed insurgents were to burst in and take my valuable captive for themselves.
“Protective from … the planet,” I sigh. “Not half-clotted … freeze-infected blood.”
“I’d be awfully surprised if any of that were still in you,” Kori says, poking my scar for good measure. “Even given the speed of spread once a freezeblade reverts to liquid, taking into account a presumed rapid heart rate on your part upon receiving the injury—”
I have a rapid heart rate now, too, but Kori doesn’t need to know that. “Since when … are you an expert on nightfolk weaponry … and wound care?”
“You were asleep for a while. I needed something to do. And you did just give me access to your entire historical records, remember?”
“I’m glad you didn’t … trouble yourself, staying … with me the whole time.”
I could blame my sleep-addled brain, I suppose, but I can almost see a light blink into being above Kori’s head. Knowledge is a drug to this girl, despite an unending sun that should’ve baked curiosity out of her, beaten her down like the rest of the dayfolk.
“We’re in the Underground, according to Thaane,” Kori explains. “There’s an elaborate network of escape tunnels underneath your fortress, but oddly enough, no record of it in your formalized data,” she says, crossing her arms. “I did stay. I just … looped back aboveground and brought some reading material with me.”
Suddenly I have a pounding headache. Having only just now regained full consciousness, forming words is uncomfortably difficult. “You took … our historical records. Out of the archives. And into an underground tunnel. That nobody knows about … or would be able to search. If they had gotten lost.”
“I put them back.” Kori at least has the courtesy to attempt an apologetic shrug. It’s transparently false, but she does try.
I grit my teeth against a reflexive curse. “That’s what I get … for sheltering a memory smuggler.”
“And company.”
“What?”
Kori laughs. “And the pleasure of my company.”
“Pleasure’s all mine,” I unfortunately say before my still-recovering mental filter can kick in.
By the Beyond, as if nearly dying in front of a prisoner whose protection wasmyresponsibility weren’t enough, now I’m making the heart palpitations she causes this agonizingly obvious? I’ve never hated myself more, and I’m well acquainted with self-loathing as of late.
Another thought gnaws at the edge of my consciousness. “Where is Russ? Aspect?”
“Russ is having a luxurious shower in my quarters, where no one will find him to question the necessity. Aspect … was surprisingly excited by the idea of tinkering with their busted knee. I needed them to stay put with Russ, stay distracted, for me to come check on you, so … I may have left them with assorted spare parts and encouragement to give repairs their best shot.” Kori gulps. “Am I a terrible person?”
“It’s taken you … this long … to ask that?” I say with more bite than I planned, choking a bit on the volume. I try to walk the words back, but I’m probably only succeeding in making things more uncomfortable. “Sorry. Head still isn’t … quite right.”
“No apology needed,” Kori says, every syllable thick with sincerity that only makes the combined pounding of my head and heart that much worse. “I’m … I’m just glad you’re all right. Your friend, the healer—”
“Zalel.”
“He seemed confident you’d recover, but you looked …” Kori gives her head a little shake. “Let’s just say that if any of you could’ve seen my face, you’d know all the blood drained out of it like juice from a fruit. And I’m certain you looked worse, of the two of us.”
“You shouldn’t have seen that.” My retort hisses through my teeth like a glacial wind through bony, dead branches, more forceful than I intended. “You’ve seen far too much.”
Kori lifts her chin, defiant. “You granted me permission to access the archives. You personally walked me through how to fire freezeshot—”
“I could’ve died!” I burst out, so loudly that it echoes, careening off the strange, uneven cavern walls. I wince, the final syllable stabbing its way through my sternum.
I’ve hardly held the throne for more than a few dozen sleep cycles, and already one girl with a simple freezeblade nearly endedeverything.I sit up despite another involuntary wince at the motion, reflexively pressing one palm to my still-fresh, half-moon sternum scar. If a single enemy eyewitness had lived to spread word of this, it would’ve bolstered the rebellion beyond quenching as surely as my corpse on a pyre.
Kori starts to speak, but I cut her off before she can form a whole word.
“This should never have happened,” I half hiss through gritted teeth. “And it’s one thing for Zalel to see it … he sees wounded soldiers … every waking moment. Thinks no less of them for it. And Thaane … who’s witnessed so much already—butyou, Kori—” I’m out of breath, chest heaving, but the words just keep pouring out. “You were never meant to be here at all. You should never have seen that. Seenmelike that—”
