Seb, then finished
drawing an anti-trace casting in a circle around the list she'd
made. "I'm worried about the duration of the first breach."
"The Sentene exist to deal with these
kind of things."
"True."
She could practically hear him deciding
what to say next.
"Planning to just walk up and hand it to
them?"
"I was toying with the idea of sending
it to the Grand Magister in the mail. It's a difficult one. Perhaps
it was always too much to hope to have nothing to do with the
Sentene until the last couple of incursions. They know my face now,
and the more I avoid them, the more they'll come after me. This is
a compromise – hopefully it will distract them."
"Likely?"
"Not at all."
She finished her casting and went to the
kitchen, but was not surprised when he followed her. He was trying
so hard not to criticise, but couldn't quite let it alone.
"How can we justify it?" he asked,
worrying at the point which bothered him most. "Yes, I – I guess
that villager would probably have died if you hadn't sent her off.
How many will die if we fail? We have a duty to see this through.
And to do that we have to stay alive, keep ourselves safe. Now, for
the sake of some random village girl, you're exposed."
"Would you have left her to be crushed
by the expansion, then?"
He flushed and looked down, chewing his
lower lip. "If it put what we had to do at risk. I suppose it must
have seemed unlikely they'd work it out, though," he conceded. "But
you know that eventually–"
"I know." She sighed. "People may have
to die. But she didn't. Yes, just some random villager, but even
knowing it would mark me, I'd probably do it again. I don't want to
be a person who stands and watches. And she at least taught me not
to underestimate the Sentene. Or pure bad luck. Besides, all it's
done is throw off our timing. No-one cut my throat."
For all one had had ample opportunity.
Her great-grandmother had loathed the Kellian, had called them
stained glass monsters, but it was not the right term for the man
of mist and flint she'd met. A creature born of cobweb, dew and
dawn light. And flesh. The cobweb had given strength, the dew an
unusual relationship with light, and dawn brought speed. Who, after
all, could outrun the dawn? The Kellian were a triumph of Symbolic
magic, and immensely dangerous. The originals had all been women,
voiceless and deadly. Bodyguards who would never betray their
Queen. It had been such a gamble, to walk up to a descendent of
one, to trust to her defences. And for all she knew about Kellian
speed, she hadn't quite been able to believe how quickly he'd drawn
that sword.
"Telling the Sentene where the
incursions will take place will make meeting with them more likely,
but I'll accept that if it means not having things like Kentatsuki
loose any longer than necessary. Even with them on the scene, it's
easy to avoid encounters so long as I'm prepared. To which
point–"
Slipping into her jacket, she began
checking the contents of her skirt pockets, making certain she had
all that was necessary before picking up a sturdy stoneware jar
filled with water, which she concealed by draping a coat over her
arm. If she made her move while it was still the middle of the day,
she'd have a better chance of avoiding any watch the Sentene may
have set for her.
"I'll have a hot dinner waiting for
you." There was a hint of apology in Seb's voice, underlying the
worry and frustration he felt having to continually see her off
into possible danger.
"And something sugary for afters?"
"You and your cakes. I'll find
something. Come back as soon as you can, Ren."
She smiled and snapped him a salute,
then walked through the wards to the landing. A quick clatter down
the stair and she was out into the noisy streets of Asentyr.
The capital of Tyrland was a sprawling
city, cramped only in a few places. The palace stood on a hill and
looked down over the Temple District to the Docks and the river
which cut through marshes to the west toward
Learning to Kill: Stories