Karis sighs. “Because I asked them to come. I just didn’t think they’d get here so fast.” He straightens his borrowed shirt as best he can. “You can sneak out the side gate, I don’t think he’s noticed you yet.”
Ronan squeezes his shoulder again, then lets go. “I don’t need to sneak out anymore. Besides, he’s definitely noticed me already.”
Sure enough, when Karis peeks over, Sir Arthur’s smile is gone, and he’s looking directly at both of them.
A pair of stablehands runs up, interrupting the crossfire of awkward stares. Karis gives up on avoiding confrontation and just waits helplessly with Ronan as the travelers dismount.
“Why did you ask them to come?” Ronan looks a lot calmer than Karis expected.
“I needed a necromancer,” Karis whispers back. “The mausoleum has a lot of really old Varan acolytes, and even some of the previous Voices. I want to talk to some of them, and Shae is the only necromancer I actually know. Kind of. I scried for him once, does that count?”
“That doesn’t count.” Ronan still looks totally calm.
Across the courtyard, the stablehands are trying to lead the horses away while Arthur offers more cookies to his chestnut. He looks calm as well, and probably unlikely to strike Ronan down in revenge. Karis decides to keep a very close eye on both of them. They could just be acting calm to lower the other’s guard. “Anyway, I asked Vara to ask Sir Arthur to ask the necromancer to come down to Ostaris, so I could hire him. I meant to warn you in advance, because I know things are weird, but I thought they would take at least another week to get here. Sorry.”
The stablehands finally manage to take the horses away from Arthur, and then there’s nothing but ten yards of pristine flagstone and awkward silence between the two pairs. Arthur and Shae walk closer, and Karis doesn’t miss the way Shae briefly squeezes Arthur’s hand. When they come to a halt facing each other, Shae stands slightly in front of Arthur, as if physically protecting him.
Plastering on a smile, Karis steps forward slightly himself. “You’re Shae Nightven, right? Thanks a lot for coming.”
The necromancer wears his gloomy presence like a second cloak. The morning sunlight doesn’t quite seem to touch him—but whenever he looks at Arthur, his sharp gray eyes soften. He doesn’t try to hide the numerous silver rings decorating his ears and fingers, and when he speaks, his voice is clear. “How could I resist a job offer from a god?”
One of the rings on Shae’s left hand, Karis notes, is different from the others. It’s also silver, but it’s polished much brighter, and it’s set with a small, yellow gem.
“Well, the job was from me,” Karis says. “Vara was just the messenger.”
Hearty laughter rings through the courtyard. Karis jumps, startled to realize that Sir Arthur is smiling. “You must be driving the priests crazy talking about Radiant Vara like that.”
“He is,” Ronan says.
Karis watches nervously as Ronan’s eyes meet Arthur’s. The two men stare at each other for a while, expressions unreadable. Karis clenches his fist and readies a shield spell, in case Arthur lunges forward.
But after a moment, Arthur just nods.
Ronan nods back.
Arthur turns to Karis and says, “We actually were on our way to Ostaris already when Vara conveyed your request. There have been some incidents north of the border that we wanted to talk with—who’s in charge here, now?”
Karis is too stunned to respond at first.They just nodded? That’s it?
“Captain Tanner, sort of,” he answers when he can. “And me, sort of. Do you want to talk about everything in a few hours? You guys have been traveling, you should get some rest.” He doesn’t mention that he desperately needs caffeine, breakfast, and a conversation with his lover. Plus, as the adrenaline wears off, he’s starting to feel the chill in the air.
Arthur looks up towards the sky. “That sounds good,” he says quietly. “I’d like to pray in the cathedral for a while.” There’s a measure of wonder in his voice. “It’s so strange to get answers now.” He rubs his hand over his face. Karis’s attention catches on the ring he wears—a band of yellow gold, set with a small diamond. The perfect inverse of the necromancer’s ring.
***
Neither Karis nor Ronan talk as they return to their rooms. Karis sits on their parlor sofa, staring off into the distance, as Ronan makes a new pot of tea. He takes the cup absently, content just to inhale the swirling steam.
Only when Ronan throws the curtains open, flooding light into the room, does Karis blink back to the present.
“What are you thinking about?” Ronan slides the tea tray away and sits down on the low table in front of Karis, so close their knees touch.
Karis inhales the steam for another moment. “I’m thinking that I wouldn’t have raced out of bed to rescue you from Arthur Davorin if I knew you were just going tonodat each other.”
Ronan’s full-throated laughter fills the room, warmer than the tea in Karis’s hands. “I didn’t know what was going to happen either,” he admits. “But he’s been through a lot in the past year, and so have I. Not all of it good, but he’s happier now than he ever was when I knew him. He’ll probably want to talk to me at some point, but it’s not urgent.”
Karis lowers his eyes. “What about you?”
“I think I just needed to see that I hadn’t completely ruined him.” Leaning forward, Ronan rests both his hands on Karis’s thighs. “And I’m happier now than I ever was too.”
