Tanya’s young son amongst the chaos.
Sometimes she still had nightmares about it.
Had she prepared such a nightmare for the people of Istarinmul?
Claudia had accused her of recklessness, of charging forward in her pain over the death of Corvalis, heedless of the damage she might cause. Much of that accusation had been Claudia’s own bitterness over Corvalis’s death, bitterness Claudia had set aside after they survived the Red Huntress at Silent Ash Temple. Yet there had been truth in that accusation, more than Claudia herself had known. In her sorrow over Corvalis’s death, at least part of Caina had wanted to die with him, even if she herself had not fully realized it at the time.
So then she had thrown herself against the Brotherhood of Slavers and Callatas’s plans, had allied with Nasser to stop the Apotheosis…and she had indeed almost gotten herself killed. Kalgri the Red Huntress had almost slain her. Cassander Nilas had conjured an ifrit and sent it after her.
Caina had survived, but only barely. Her recklessness had almost brought death upon her head…but would it bring civil war to Istarinmul?
Would her decisions bring ruin on others?
She lay back down, staring at the shadows upon the ceiling.
Perhaps she had brought war upon Istarinmul, or perhaps not. Maybe Nasser and Kylon were right. Perhaps Istarinmul would have exploded without her. Callatas had murdered tens of thousands of slaves to make his wraithblood, and would work his way through tens of thousands more if given the chance. Sooner or later he would push too far and war would break out…or he would complete his Apotheosis and destroy Istarinmul just as he had destroyed Iramis a century and a half past. Callatas had wrought appalling crimes, and unless he was stopped, he would do far worse.
Caina rubbed a hand through her hair. She had started growing it back, and it had just reached her ears. The web of lies that sustained her life was a thin one, and Kalgri and Cassander had penetrated it, but other than that it had worked so far. Most of Istarinmul thought that the Balarigar was a man. Nasser and his circle of associates thought that Caina was a man. Nerina knew that Caina was a woman, but she didn’t know Caina’s real name. Damla and Agabyzus both knew Caina’s real name, but they were Ghosts of her circle. Martin Dorius and Claudia knew who Caina really was, but Martin was the Emperor’s Lord Ambassador to the Padishah. Morgant knew who she was, but he was dangerously clever, and…
Caina blinked.
Kylon knew who she was, too.
She let out a long breath.
What was she going to do about Kylon?
She had been glad to see him, glad to see someone she had known from before her exile, and horrified by Thalastre’s murder. Then they had faced the Sifter and survived, and Caina had found herself drawn to him. She had always been drawn to strong men, to fighters and killers, and Kylon was one of the best fighters she had ever met. He was also a good man, dutiful and determined, still grieving for his murdered wife…
A wave of guilt went through Caina. Thalastre had been murdered. Corvalis had died saving the world from the Moroaica. How could Caina even begin to think that way about Kylon? It was a betrayal of Corvalis, a betrayal of Thalastre.
But they were dead, and Caina and Kylon were not.
She rubbed a hand over her face, trying to clear her mind and failing once again.
Why hadn’t she invited him into the safe house with her? If she was honest with herself, she missed having a man in her bed. She was drawn to Kylon, admired his strength and courage. It was not as if she could bear him a child. They could enjoy each other’s company while they could.
Caina closed her eyes and ticked off the reasons it was a bad idea.
She could not do such a thing casually. Perhaps some women could, but Caina knew she could not. If she took Kylon into her bed, she would give him her heart. She had done so with Corvalis, and
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley