Empire of Ashes

Chapter LXVII - The End Begins

The family in front of us had a little boy with dark hair. He couldn't have been older than six, and the way he bounced around and clung to his parent's legs reminded me of my brother Quin. And that, of course, made me furious and miserable in equal measures. This boy was Anglian — he had been born on the right side of the border, and he would not be butchered for sport.

"Lyra, a word, please," Tem murmured suddenly. I had to tear my gaze away from the little boy, only to see that he was already halfway through dismounting Nightmare.

While I watched, he passed the reins to Fendur and started walking without waiting for my reply, and I followed him like a shadow simply because I was curious. We were heading further down the line, until we reached a wagon full of hay. The driver was dozing in the front seat, so there was no one to care that we were standing behind it. It was tall enough to hide us from the others.

Tem pulled me closer to him by my belt. He looked over his shoulder to check that there were no eyes on us, and I felt a ripple of excitement. Maybe he wasn't keeping secrets from me, after all. Maybe I was about to find out how we would kill Herox. But when Temris turned back to me, satisfied we were alone, he just grinned at me.

And then, without any warning, he leant forwards and tipped his head down to join our lips. We were kissing for the first time in weeks, and it was just as desperate and heated as it always been. As if nothing had happened. As if we hadn't been treading on eggshells since Canton.

His hands roamed to my waist, rougher than usual. There was nothing sweet or loving about any of it — not the way we were pressed against each other or the way we fought for control of the kiss. My hands had slipped beneath his shirt by the time we broke apart for air.

"What was that for?" I breathed. We hadn't moved far — our foreheads still touched, and I could feel every breath he took on my skin.

Tem smiled, and it was a miserable sort of smile. "That was my mistake. I've been saving it."

I blinked at him. I didn't understand, and I was damned sure he didn't want me to.

"In another life..." He shook his head. "In another life, I swear to the gods, little one..."

"You're not making any sense," I said sternly.

"I know, and I'm sorry," Tem sighed. "It just ... doesn't feel fair, sometimes."

I looked up at him, dropping the façade just for a moment so he could see how lost I was. All the secrecy had taken its toll, and suddenly I was just an eighteen-year-old girl who didn't really have a clue whether a boy was using her or actually liked her.

And Tem winced, and then he kissed me again. For a dozen amazing heartbeats, all of my doubts vanished, and all that remained was the feeling of his lips on mine. It was softer this time, more earnest. Of course, eventually, he had to pull away again, and the world came rushing back.

"Two mistakes, then," he murmured. "All these weeks — that's not so bad."

He stared at me like he wanted to say more, so much more. But we had already run out of time. It had slipped away from us on the boat and on the road from Canton, and I only now saw that the sand was gone altogether.

"Tem, Lyra," Fendur shouted. "Come on."

It was almost our turn at the gate. We could see that even from here — the family in front of us were standing huddled together while a guard checked their belongings. I looked at Tem, and he looked back at me, and wordlessly we slipped out from behind the cart and went to rejoin the others.

By the time we got there, the family had passed into the city. We barely had time to catch our horses' reins and lead them forwards, let alone deflect the many curious looks from the others. There was a guard waiting for us and two more standing behind him with pikes.

He made a fruitless effort to smile at us. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I can see you are well-born, so I will try to keep this short."

Tem inclined his head, playing haughty and bored, which had always seemed to come easy to him. Melia had an air of entitled impatience that she seemed to be able to turn on at will. I lifted my chin a little higher — because I was a filthy peasant and proud of it.

"Have you been to Belmery before?"

"No."

"Then allow me to welcome you," he said warmly. "The best inns and taverns can be found higher in the city. I would recommend The Huntsman in Upper East. They are famed for good music and beautiful women. I think you will find it suited to your needs."

Doubtless he was taking coin from that tavern for the advertisement. I suppressed a smirk. The guard frowned at us all when we didn't reply, his eyes lingering on the swords worn openly.

"You are allowed to carry arms within the city limits, but please be aware that drawing a blade on a citizen without extreme provocation is forbidden. Also, public intoxication is strongly discouraged, and you may be arrested for it if your behaviour is disruptive."

"We understand," Tem assured him. "And our accommodation has been arranged."

The guard blinked at him. He looked back at his friends, and they both took a step forward, their knuckles whitening around the handles of their pikes. Somewhere, we had made a mistake. "Forgive me, but your accent is quite distinctive. You are not Anglian, are you?"

"Cambrian," Tem said warily.

The guard nodded. "Then you have my apologies, sir. Foreigners must apply for permission to enter the city. You will have to be escorted to the duty sergeant in due course."

We all exchanged uneasy looks. Anlai's hand drifted to his sword hilt, and Melia had to smack his fingers away before the guards saw. The duty sergeant would demand identities and our reasons for coming. We would not be getting into Belmery undetected, after all.

"That will not be necessary," Tem said firmly. Still, he looked so bored. "My name is Temris Ragnyrsbane, and I am obeying a royal summons, so I would be much obliged if you could take me to the king."