The Blinding Knife

Chapter 89

Karris thought she knew exactly where Gavin would be. If he wasn’t in his room, that meant he’d drafted a bonnet and jumped off the Prism’s Tower. He loved doing that. Show-off. And because no one had known he was fleeing, no one would have reported him leaving. They wouldn’t have known it was important.

She checked the library first, though, just in case she was wrong. She walked past the practicum rooms, where she heard boys’ voices, cursing as their drafting failed. She checked his personal training room below the tower. Then she headed up to the ground floor. She crossed the Lily’s Stem, going against the flow of people who came in every morning with the dawn to work in the seven towers of the Chromeria, and cut down-island. She knew the other Blackguards had already fanned out across both islands, looking for him. With war declared, none of them were happy to have their Prism off by himself with no guards. The big idiot.

Still, Karris felt curiously alive. She felt as if, for the first time in years, she had a future. Life felt possible now. Promising.

She made her way toward the east bay. The fishing boats were already out, though it was barely light. Men and women were pressing seaweed flat to dry in the sun. The tide was just coming in, and she saw several drunken sailors staggering back toward their ships, doubtless overindulging to fortify themselves for the weeks or months of privation they’d face on the sea.

A gang of galley slaves, chained at their wrists to a long pole, were walking together toward the same ships. They looked gaunt and dirty, with long stringy muscles and no fat. One coughed a deep, unhealthy rattle as they passed.

A scent in the air arrested Karris, and she couldn’t help but stop at a little storefront she hadn’t been to in years. They kept slowly simmering pots of kopi, and at this time of morning it was fresh and beautiful. Especially when you’d been up most of the night.

“Ah, my favorite Blackguard!” Jalal said. He was a round little butterball of Parian. Karris thought he’d had more teeth the last time she’d been here. “Watch Captain…” He snapped his fingers.

“White Oak,” she said, grinning.

“Ah, yes! But I find redemption here!” He grabbed a cheap clay cup and a fresh wedge of onion and ladled hot kopi into it. He poured out some of the steaming hot liquid into a clean saucer, swirled it, put it back into the cup, and repeated the saucering until the kopi was the perfect temperature. Then he fished out the onion wedge and spooned in half a spoonful of Ilytian sugar.

“Brilliant,” Karris said. “You remembered.”

“A kopi man never forgets.” He tapped his forehead with his index finger thrice, thinking. “Ah, ah!” Then he produced the kind of small sweet roll that Karris liked. “Yes?”

She smiled. “You’re a wonder.” It was perfect. Exactly as she’d had years ago, and the kopi was wonderful.

She paid, feeling enlivened by the stimulant and the food, and headed toward Ebon’s Hill. There was an estate there that had a gorgeous view of the bay and the rising sun. Dazen had shown it to her when they were first courting.

He hadn’t knocked on the door or anything so civil. Instead, he’d shown her how to climb up onto the fence, and from there onto the bulbous dome roof of a neighbor’s house. It was quiet, peaceful, and for a young teenage girl, it had felt naughty.

They’d kissed there for the very first time, after holding hands all night, talking.

How was she going to broach the topic, though? “Gavin, you big idiot, I’ve known you’re Dazen for months”? No. She’d merely sit down next to him, watch the sun rise, and then say, “I remember our first kiss here.”

The thought of throwing Gavin so far off kilter was more than a little pleasing.

Truth was, they were going to have to do a lot of work. A lot of the lies he’d told her made sense to her now, but not all of them, and knowing why someone had lied to you was different than understanding it, different by far than forgiving it.

But still, she was eager to start living. Scary as it was. Besides, he’d said he loved her, hadn’t he? It wasn’t like she was going out on a limb.

She rounded the last corner and found herself on her ass, sitting on the ground. It took her a moment to realize she’d been hit in the face. And then a gang of men gathered around her, hitting, hitting, hitting.

She kicked, she swung, she screamed, but her training did little for her. There were a dozen men, all big, and they’d sealed off any form of escape. Her speed was no use to her on the ground. Her weapons expertise no good with her weapons torn away.

Her rage was undercut by humiliation, fear. She was a Blackguard. How could she let herself be taken off guard? How could she be so terrified? She tried to punch, tried to kick, but each of her limbs was trapped. She thrashed. A foot caught her in the kidney. Black stars exploded in white skies. She wasn’t supposed to be afraid; men were supposed to fear her. A face leaned close, saying something, and she whipped her head forward, shattering his nose, making his blood explode all over her. She twisted an arm, shattered a man’s elbow. Then her head rebounded off the paving stones from a blow she never even saw. And then all emotions faded as she lost her grip on consciousness-and still the beating continued, continued, continued.