Moreover, he didn’t have a hostage to strengthen his position. It was impossible
to believe this scrawny, starving woman could escape where Thrush hadn’t-
“You don’t believe me, do you?” she said. “Thrush trusted me at his back. He
must’ve fought until they hit him hard, where’s I gave up sooner. That’s the
difference, Walegrin, you say women have no honor because they’ll lose first and
win later. You men have to win all the time or die trying. If I was in on it,
would I have come back like this?”
“To lead me in,” Walegrin challenged, but without conviction.
The sun was up when he slid the bolt of the villa-gate and led Cythen into the
courtyard. Balustrus was waiting for them. The metal-master already knew some of
the night’s events.
“Seems you won’t be jumping early after all?” he accused.
“Yes, I’d planned to leave,” Walegrin agreed. “The longer I stay; the tighter
the noose. I’m getting out. I leave you the ore, the necklace and the formula
you don’t need anything else.”
“It won’t be that easy unless you’ve replaced Thrusher with that bone-bag behind
you. Word’s come from the palace.” Balustrus handed him a scroll with its seal
broken.
The writing confirmed Cythen’s story that they’d been taken to the palace by
Stepsons. The Prince commanded Walegrin’s presence in the Hall of Justice.
Walegrin crumpled the paper and threw it into the dirt. He could have abandoned
Thrusher; he could have abandoned Illyra-but he could not abandon them both.
“Cythen,” he whispered to her as they entered the room he shared with Thrusher.