KINGSLAYER

♕ 2 | 3 ♕

"That's not my fault," he said defensively, clearly shutting down. I stared at the back of his loose curls, doing the math in my mind. He had to have been only nine years of age when he was taken; perhaps he learned only the basics before and forgot due to misuse. Whatever his master was having him do, I doubted it included quietly reading—or anything remotely positive, for that matter.

"We cannot have this weakness of yours have the power to jeopardize our journey to Westyard. I will teach you to read and write."

There was a flash of darkened eyes as he glanced back at me. "You only want to assuage your guilt."

"Yes," I said, honest for once. "But I will not do it for free. You must teach me your sleight-of-hand tricks in exchange." I hoped he would take the bait; I knew he would never accept if he thought he would owe me anything.

There was a long silence, which I took as progress. I expected him to immediately deny me. Then, disbelievingly: "The Princess wants to know how to pickpocket like a common street urchin?"

"Like a mercenary," I corrected.

He paused again and I could feel his hesitation bleeding out into the air. "Where's the catch?"

"Me persuading and you doubtful? Since when have we switched roles?" I stepped over a springy long-leafed plant hanging over the trail and saw several colorful frogs hiding underneath. "Unless you consider me also benefitting from this agreement a catch, there is none."

"Why the hell would someone like you want to know secret criminal tricks?"

"I am never against adding unforeseen ploys to my arsenal. In case you have not noticed, I enjoy having several cards hidden up my sleeve. And I have watched you successfully perform such things against my will since we met. Your knowledge may come in semi-useful."

"Alright," he said at last, liking the idea of having something over me. "I will allow you to teach me how to read."

"We will begin tonight," I said, already regretting willingly subjecting myself to spending more time with him.

The night arrived quickly. Before the air cooled too far, we built a fire for warmth and to repel insects, which I was now realizing were a bigger annoyance than I anticipated. Perhaps it was a good thing the lessons began now to distract from the emptiness in my stomach. We already had our one allotted meal when the sun still rose.

"How much do you know?" I asked.

"Little enough to be illiterate," he said somewhat callously. Being able to admit his faults in front of me was clearly not a strong suit of his.

With my back to the fire, I grabbed a stick to draw in the dirt, saying, "Then we will begin with single letters. Thankfully for you, the Oceanic and Navrikan languages share the same alphabet."

"I know that."

I eyed him. "Do not talk back to your teacher. Now watch closely as I begin the alphabet, for you will be copying my movements to get a feel for the letters later."

"Okay," he said with fire-brightened eyes trained on the dusty ground, "Go."

I relented, tracing the letters Klymene taught me all those years ago. She lived there in the back of my mind for the entirety of the lesson. How I hoped he had not found her too.

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I placed another log for the flames to eat away. Even the dwindling fire was too bright in my eyes. I blinked bleary eyes, trying to make the light stop smearing in the corners of my vision.

Though he would not see it, I threw a dirty look Alexander's way, wishing I had not gotten first watch. He was asleep on the opposite side—or so I guessed. Facing me, he was curled up so that his face was hidden by shadows. His back was never exposed to me, just as mine never was to him. I noticed that he slept with as much catlike alertness as he had while awake. For one, he never moved, successfully blending in with his surroundings. And whenever I made any slight movement as if to get up, I thought I felt his eyes on me.

Uncrossing my legs, I turned to look out in the forest. The flames flickered up every so often, painting the forest floor golden and lighting the vines hanging meters above our heads. But behind the meager ring of firelight, there was nothing but velvet darkness. The canopy layer caged us from any stars or moonlight. I was half-afraid I would be staring wide-eyed at the ground only to see the thick body of a python or tarantula. The fire may have been warm and my only sense of comfort, but it was also a beacon for anything drooling for easy prey.

The longer I sat, the more my unease grew. Insects still chirped nearby, meaning nothing was in close proximity. Every time there came a break between crickets' trill noises, I felt as though I must inch closer to the fire.

They stopped again. I closed my eyes for a split second in discontent, then opened them to comb over what little I could see of our surroundings. No gleaming eyes, no shine of a sword in the firelight. And yet the crickets were silent.

I latched on to a specific spot in the distance. Was that movement or was I simply imagining things? Breath became more difficult. The night took a turn and cold brushed over me despite the fire's heat.

My senses seemed to be raised of their own accord, aware of something that I was not. Something in my core tingled with unease. My heartbeat was everywhere. I felt the same sensation I did when I knew Alexander was secretly observing me. But this was not from him.

The fire popped. Or it was a stick snapping under a foot.

"Khan," I hissed, suddenly desperate to not be alone.

As usual, he awoke jerkily. "What—what is it?"

"I believe we are being watched. I can feel it."

Completely alert, Alexander straightened his spine to peer into the darkness. The world was silent. For a moment, I thought he would simply dismiss me and tell me I was being paranoid. Instead, he said, "It's possible."

My head tilted in unexpected interest. "Daggen's men?"

"Yes." His attention did not move.

"Tell me what you know of his tracking ability. We can theorize from there."

The eeriness of the night seemed to loosen his tongue. "As an independent agent, I cannot be sure of the inside workings of his group. But..." He faltered, unsure of how much to divulge. "He found me. After I took so many precautions surrounding my identity, he found me. And approached me when my face was uncovered, so he must have known somehow what I looked like and where to find me.

"I've always wondered... I don't know how he knew my name. I either went by a pseudonym or by the Deathrender, the ridiculous title the public gave me. No one knew my real name but...people from my old life." It dawned on me that he was referring to his old master. But it made no sense for his master to sell him out to Daggen, who operated in Navrika.

"That is odd," I said as evenly as possible. "I knew he had connections, but this surpasses my expectations." I stopped then, realizing I was telling this to one of Daggen's aforementioned connections.

"And after what happened with his men in the Hochovs, we know he was able to find us once. It wouldn't be surprising if he pulled it off again." Alexander's mind seemed far from here. "He hired someone as skilled as me with ease. There's no telling who he enlisted the help of once I went missing."

"I see," I said, chewing the inside of my cheek. That was not the comforting answer I wished to hear. Like him, my focus remained outward. So it remained uncertain.