Promise the Sky

Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Kiara

 

 

 

I hold my breath until we leave, Drake tapping warily along at my side. Neither of us are so taken by the glory of cold marble anymore. When we return to the outside it is dark and the streets empty. Even the guards on the doors have gone, which I think Geraint finds to be a little bit of a relief.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That. All of it. Was that man who I think he was?"

"That depends on whether or not you thought he was the emperor, Kia." Geraint sighs, running a rough hand over his face. I can see something battling there, beneath his brow. "We don't want to be here," he says suddenly, "if we stay too long, we'll lose the nest. Tell me why we're not just going now. Why didn't I just accept what he said and leave?"

"You need me to give you an answer?"

He turns, looking at me properly. It is a difficult thing to compute, for as he turns, Ella leaves, treading lightly out across the floor. It's just Geraint, looking without seeing, working on memory alone.

"When the Mirror City goes to war, it affects the whole world," I remind him.

"I told you that."

I nod, trusting that, somehow, he'll know.

He sighs, closing his eyes, and rubs another heavy hand down the line of his scar.

"It's been a long day," he says, "if I've still got some friends, I know a place where we can stay."

He gestures, beckoning over his shoulder, and the group reconvenes, Ella returning as I make my way to his side. She doesn't bother with their special dance, walking in her own space instead of at his back. It is just another detail that highlights how familiar this place is to him.

"What did you do?" I ask.

He shrugs dismissively. "Nothing horrifically big. It wasn't like some great showdown or one huge mistake. I'm just very good at losing people. I do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing. Over and over. If I'm going to blame anything, I'll blame Null. He and are alike in our ability to turn good things sour. Not that anything in this city wasn't toxic to begin with." A resentful chuckle. "People like their poison sweet, Kia."

"I wanted you to be an outlaw, the man with no name." I smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Geraint laughs; bitterly.

"Sorry to disappoint. Outcast, not outlaw." He bows sarcastically, and I cannot help but giggle. As he straightens, he holds out a hand for me to shake, "and they call me the Jester," he says.

I take the hand in a delicate grip and grin.

"Kiara magicless," I say, "terror of Harborne, Fairton, and other lesser towns. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He laughs, twisting the handshake at the last minute so that he turns it into something else, brushing a light kiss across my knuckles. I blush and suddenly I'm glad of the darkness hiding my features, not that Geraint would have been able to read anything from it anyway.

"Nice to meet you," he says, "let's go to bed."

I roll my eyes as he returns to walking, picking what may as well be any arbitrary side street.