The Warden

Chapter 23

"Kyla."

"Yes, indeed," she returned, one eyebrow cocked. "And actually, it's Lady Kyla."

Her hand went to her mouth to wipe away little droplets of still steaming blood. Masis flinched at the sight but hissed as his body scolded him for the movement. He lay still as Lady Kyla let her gloves mop away the carnage. Her tongue darted out to slurp up some of the larger drops. All but a single gory smear adorned her left cheek when she finished.

"I would advise that the next time you decide to throw yourself headlong off a cliff into the Bay of Muth, with the intention of killing yourself, you do it from a higher point. The impact alone would kill you if you had only been a rod or two higher."

Grabbing one of Masis' own waterskins discarded beside his pack, Kyla undid the stopper and tipped it into his unprepared, gaping mouth. Water spilled down his chin and chest, further dampening his already sodden clothes. He managed to gulp a few mouthfuls before the waterskin came away. A shiver went through him as the cold liquid chilled him even more. His soaked clothes leeched his body's warmth, clinging to his skin, reeking of brine and chafing with salt.

"Why did you save me?" Masis asked. Too exhausted, too cold, too pain-filled to let hot anger shake him.

Kyla began to respond, but stopped, her mouth hanging open as she tilted her head as though listening to something unheard by Masis.

"I'm going to tell him," she said, half-whispered but clearly audible.

"I hope you do," said Masis, his face constricting inward at her odd manner of address.

"Why do you think I went to all the trouble of saving the little wretch?"

"That's what I would like to know."

"Would you please let me handle this in my own way."

"That's what I thought you were doing." Masis turned his eyes this way and that to determine if Kyla had been talking to someone else. From his limited vantage point they were alone.

"If you would like to do it yourself, then by all means do so."

"I... I can't really do that since you were the one that rescued me."

Is she even talking to me? Masis' brows had huddled together as one corner of his mouth quirked toward his eye. She's mad. Completely mad.

"If you weren't afraid of a more direct approach," said Kyla, more insistently, pointing in his direction, "you wouldn't have needed my help."

"Would you have suggested another way to kill myself?" Masis asked, completely befuddled at this point.

"Someone else could have done a much better job." Kyla began to pace, no longer looking in Masis direction.

"I should have gotten someone else to kill me?" His voice became smaller and smaller, filled more and more with a confused, questioning note.

She saved me just to criticize my method of suicide?

Every thought twisted back on itself, muddling his mind's pathways, crippling any attempts his thoughts made at resurrecting his guilt. Confusion, tight on his face, working his mouth open and close in rapid succession but never quite closing, kept him safely protected from his former more self-destructive inclinations.

"I would if you would just let me." Kyla threw her arms up at that. Her steps became more frenetic.

Masis opened his mouth but no words came. No matter how hard he pushed no sound would rise from his throat. Shaking his head as though to clear it, a hot wash of agony radiated out from his neck, clogging his ears and deadening all his senses. Eyes squeezed shut, breath forced in and out through clenched teeth, Masis waited until the episode subsided. His vision, blurry upon opening his eyes, cleared. Kyla stood in front of him, arms crossed, breath imperceptible, eyes locked on his face.