FORTY-THREE
Moria made her way across the north end of the compound. It was not protected, but she’d been out here often enough to know that the guards had their routes and their favored stopping places. Avoid those and she was fine. Or she would be after she shucked the dress. She didn’t strip all the way down to her shift. That was white, meaning she’d streak across the night like a comet. She went to the third last layer – a dark green silk. Then she took one of the dark, discarded layers and tore it into a long strip to wrap over her bright hair.
Dagger in hand, she made her way toward the north wall. Scaling it wouldn’t be an issue. According to Brom, the compound itself was an abandoned military training camp. They’d cleaned it up, but what it lacked was a proper fence. So far they’d encircled it with a makeshift barrier of wood, no taller than a man’s head.
She headed toward that wall, taking a circuitous route to avoid the guards. The ancestors continued to favor her, perhaps deciding she’d suffered quite enough punishment for any past offenses. Finally, she was close enough to see the wall. Then she heard a noise. Footsteps. Running. She froze and swung around, her back pressing against the nearest building. She’d barely gone still when a figure stepped between the buildings. A figure with dark braids and tattoos on his forearms.
Gavril had his back to her as he moved from one building to the next. He did glance her way, but only briefly, as if he expected to see someone running in her dress, light hair flowing behind her, an easy target to spot. When he looked away again, she gripped her dagger and lifted it.
She could throw it at his back. He wore no armor. She could injure him, badly. She might even be able to kill him.
Instead, she pressed herself against the building and waited for him to pass. He stopped on the other side of the passage. Moria held her breath. He took one more careful look around before putting out his hand and saying something, and as he spoke, his fingers began to glow with an unearthly light.
His fingers lit the passage as well as any lantern, and as he turned her way again, the light turned with him, and she knew it didn’t matter how dark her dress was or how deep the shadows. His gaze lit upon her, and she clenched her dagger, ready for him to pull his blade and run at her.
Instead, he exhaled, the sound sliding through the silence.
“I’ve found you,” he said.
“And you will un-find me,” Moria said, raising her dagger. “You will walk away or I will throw this. You know I will.”
“I —”
“Did you not tell me once that daggers were an inferior weapon? In close combat, yes. But from ten paces? You will be dead before you reach me, Kitsune.”
“I’m not trying…” He extinguished his fingers with a wave, but not before she saw his face, tight and glittering with sweat. “I’m going to come closer, so no one overhears us. I will keep some distance.”
She let him get two arm lengths away, then stopped him with a flourish of her dagger.
“I won’t attack you, Keeper. But you cannot escape. You absolutely cannot.”
“No? I suppose you’ll tell me your father has the forest filled with monsters and —”
“I misspoke. I do not mean you are unable to escape. I mean you must not.” He took a step toward her. “I talked to my father after Lord Tanuki made those remarks. You cannot return to the imperial city or they’ll exile you as a traitor. Perhaps worse, as there is no forest to exile you to.”
“Traitor?” She laughed. “You’ll have to do better —”
“They say you betrayed Tyrus. That you seduced and counseled him to lead his men to slaughter and turn his back on a town under siege. They blame you for the massacre at Fairview and the death of Tyrus’s men. They say you are my lover and you betrayed the empire for me.”
“Do they truly? My, that is a terrible story, and I thank you, Lord Gavril, for warning me before I escaped. Please take me back to my cell. Or perhaps, to be safe, return me to the dungeons.”
Even through the darkness she could see his mouth tighten. “You aren’t taking me seriously, Keeper.”
“Because you’ve made it clear exactly how low an opinion you have of my intelligence, Kitsune.”
“I only said that because —” He bit the sentence off. “You don’t need to return to your cell. We’ll make other arrangements. I can insist that because we are betrothed, you must be given quarters. Your own quarters. My father cannot ask you to share mine before the wedding, which will never —”
“You’re stalling until someone hears us. I’m leaving, and if you try to stop me…” As she let the threat hang, she caught a glimpse of a low-slung, dark shape on the rooftop. It almost looked like… No, it was gone now. A trick of the moonlight.
“Blast it, Keeper. Listen to me —”
“I will not. You always were a terrible teller of stories. Your skill has not improved. I have the advantage here, and you are resorting to lies to convince me to stay and save yourself from any punishment. Hopefully your father will realize my escape wasn’t your fault —”
“Of course it was my fault,” he snapped. “Who do you think secreted that blade into your cell? Who let you go out on walks, accompanied by an idiot and a smitten young warrior? Who let you hear him complain about poor security in the north end of the compound? I orchestrated your escape, Moria.”
She hesitated. He relaxed, but she was only thinking it through, and after a moment, she said, “You orchestrated it to be rid of me. You resented the obligation and responsibility. But now you’ve had second thoughts. Perhaps your father said he suspects something and —”