“How hard can stitches be?” he asked himself.
When he made to stand and go in search of Menca’s things, Xar grasped his wrists. “Boy, stop.”
“I can—”
“I said no. I’m dying, there is nothing you can do.”
He had no idea how to react to this or even how to feel. A pretty significant portion of him had wanted this man dead since the day they met, but at this moment, none of him was glad. He felt as if the walls of his world had been ripped away to let in a cold wind. Because he did not want to feel this or think about what it meant, he asked, “Who were they?”
Xar shook his head, and Havec couldn’t tell whether he was saying he didn’t know or refusing to answer. “Kebbal brought them.”
Havec frowned. “Who had a grudge against you, so bitter it was worth this? I thought, that girl…”
He heard a noise behind him and knew she had dared to follow him, but he couldn’t have cared less that she’d heard what he said.
Xar shook his head again, and one gory hand rose to his face.
He took the hand by the wrist before it could touch him. “I never meant to revenge myself on you. You’ve kept your word.”
The man swallowed with a grimace as if it pained him. “I did betray you, though. I would have. I was.”
Havec looked at him and said nothing.
“I didn’t mean this is your doing, I brought it on myself.” He paused to gasp in pain. “I was standing in the path of your revenge. That isn’t something the principal servant of vengeance can get away with. Our bargain…”
“Never stipulated conditions for its end,” he said slowly.
Xar laughed bitterly. “Learned to read the fine print since then, eh?”
“Xar,” he began, but his voice broke and he cleared his throat, furious this had happened.
“Ah, boy,” his master said sadly, “you never once used my name in all these years, don’t stop raging against me now.” Havec had never, never wanted to kill him as badly as he did when their eyes met and he saw that the man understood how he felt. “You’re ready. You have been for a year.”
He drew in a deep breath, suddenly uncertain.
“You may not be sure,” his master said, reading his mind again, “but I am. I’ve known for a while. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you because I didn’t want to let you go.”
He reached for him, and Havec jerked back. The man sank a hand into the hair at the back of his skull, and even moments from death, his strength was such that Havec couldn’t pull away. “Come here,” he said hoarsely. “It is ended and you are free, but there is one more thing that has to happen before the bargain is sealed.”
With his vast inexorable strength, he drew Havec in until he was close enough to kiss. The second their lips touched, something passed between them. A sensation of hunger and hot tears and cold rage. Biding. Demanding. Dizzy with obsession and meticulous as an accountant’s books. Then, as if the essence of his power and the last of his life had been entwined, Xaritu anKebbal sighed his last breath and fell away from Havec’s mouth.
As the man slumped back and settled to his side, Havec was left staring in sightless astonishment at the wood of the desk, examining the whorls with drunken fascination. He had known his master meant to do that. Sort of. In a sense. But when it came, it had been completely unexpected.
He sat up a little straighter, putting his shoulders back and drawing in a deep breath as he wondered what it would be like. It wasn’t anything he would have wanted, given a choice, but when had Xar ever given him a real choice about anything? He would like to leave this place behind entirely, but he would be carrying their blood-tainted mysticism with him. That felt appropriate, and letting out one final tiny sigh, he pushed himself to his feet.
“What will we do?”
He had forgotten about that girl and turned to stare at her. Her mahogany skin had gone an unpleasant gray hue, and her face was ashen where tears had stained her cheeks. He had less than no interest in what became of her, but leaving her here in the midst of this abattoir seemed cruel.
Stooping to grab his sword, he told her, “We probably don’t want to stick around, there might be more of them.”
“What were they after?”
He shook his head as he went to join her in the doorway.
“Shouldn’t we tell someone?”
He looked at her incredulously. “I’m a foreigner without papers and you’re one of your people’s lower class, otherwise known as untrustworthy human trash. Right?”
She nodded, too shocked to be insulted.
“We’re the only ones left alive over the corpse of a great man. I’m not sticking around to answer questions.”
She didn’t argue that, either, hastening after him once he edged past her and set off down the hall. “What should I do?”
“Go up to your room. Pack your shit in your bag. Wait there two minutes, I’ll be right on your heels.”
He gestured forcefully down the hallway, and the girl was too rattled to do anything other than obey.
***
The instant Qanath was alone in the bloody, badly-lit darkness, the fear returned. She wasn’t sure whether it had been more brave or foolish to get out of bed and investigate when she heard the disturbance; it was just the kind of thing you did. This, though, this was like something from a terrible dream or the kind of scary bedside story your Fa told you as a kid if you were lucky. Things like this didn’t happen in real life.
She was deeply glad she had the barbarian to tell her what to do. He was only two or maybe three years older than her, but right now what mattered was that he was calm and purposeful and knew how to handle a sword. The way he came flying out of nowhere to save her… That was like something out of a story, too. She would be dead if not for him, and if there was some sensible way to feel about that, she didn’t know what it was.
Maybe she should have suspected, though, she told herself as she reached the foot of the stair and began to climb. This was a school for the martial arts, and there was a way in which it was a temple. He would have been bound to pick things up. She should have guessed as much when he slapped her. He moved like an asp, so fast she hadn’t seen it, and yet he hadn’t hit her all that hard. It hadn’t been an attack but a warning not to disrespect him, and he had the control to make that point without breaking her jaw.
She ascended into darkness, and as the night closed around her like water, it carried with it an almost ungovernable dread. Anyone could be hiding up here. They could be watching her right now. She had been here for a matter of days and she had done nothing, learned nothing, she was weak and helpless and assassins could be watching her from the darkness at that moment.
