Michael Sullivan - Nyphron rising

"Have you decided to tell Hadrian yet?"

For the first time he looked away.

"Oh, so that's it. Don't you think you should?"

"No, just because a lunatic wizard-" he paused. "Listen, if I tell him what I saw he'll only get himself killed. If Hadrian were a moth, he'd fly into every flame he could find. If I tell him, his reason will disappear. He'll sacrifice himself if necessary, and for what? Even if it's true, all that stuff with the heir happened centuries ago and has nothing to do with him. And there's no reason to think that Esrahaddon wasn't just-wizards toy with people, okay? It's what they do. He tells me to keep quiet, makes a big stink about how I have to take this secret to my grave. But you know damn well he expects me to tell Hadrian. I don't like being used and I won't let Hadrian get himself killed at the whim of some wizard and his agendas."

Gwen said nothing but looked at him with a knowing smile.

"What?"

"Sounds like you are trying to convince yourself and you're not doing very well. I think it might help if you consider you're one kind of person and Hadrian is another. You are trying to look out for him, but you're using cat's eyes."

"I'm doing what?"

Gwen looked at Royce, puzzled for a moment, then chuckled quietly. "Oh, I suppose that must be a common saying only in Calis. Okay, let's say you're a cat and Hadrian's a dog and you want to make him happy. You give him a dead mouse and are surprised when he isn't thrilled. The problem is that you need to see the world through the eyes of a dog to understand what's best for him. If you did, you would see that a nice juicy bone would be a better choice, even though to a cat it's not very appealing."

"So you think I should let Hadrian go off and get himself killed?"

"I'm saying that for Hadrian, maybe fighting-even dying-for something or someone may be the same as a bone to a dog. Besides, you have to ask yourself, is keeping quiet really for his sake-or yours?"

"First daggers, now dogs and cats," Royce muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing." He let his hands run through her hair. "How did you get so wise?"

"Wise?" She looked at him and laughed. "I'm a thirty-four-year-old prostitute in love with a professional criminal. How wise can I possibly be?"

"If you don't know, perhaps you should try seeing with my eyes."

He kissed her warmly, pulling her tight. He recalled what Hadrian had said and wondered if he was being stupid for not settling down with Gwen. He noticed for some time a growing pain whenever he said goodbye and a misery that dogged him whenever he left. Royce never meant for it to happen. He always tried to keep her at a distance for her own good as well as his. His life was dangerous and only possible so long as he had no ties, nothing others could use against him.

Winters had caused him to crack. Deep snows and brutal cold kept team Riyria, idle in Medford for months. Huddled before the warmth of hearth fires through the long dark nights, they grew close. Casual chats turned into long intimate conversations; conversations changed to embraces and confessions. It was impossible to resist her open kindness and generosity. She was so unlike anyone, an enigma that flew in the face of all he had come to expect from the world. She made no demands and asked for nothing but his happiness.

It was Gwen who led to his and Hadrian's longest imprisonment six years ago. It was in the spring, and they received a job sending them all the way to Alburn. The thought of leaving her dragged on him like a weight. On top of everything, Gwen was sick. She had a spring flu and looked miserable. She pretended it was nothing, trying to be brave to make it easier on him, but she looked pale. He almost did not go, but she insisted. He could still remember her face as he left her with that brave little smile that quivered oh so slightly at the edges.

The job went bad. His concentration suffered, mistakes were made, and they were left rotting in the dungeons under Caren. All he could do was sit and think about Gwen and whether she was all right. As the months stretched out, he realized that if he survived he had to end their relationship. He resolved never to see her again, for both of their sakes, but the moment he returned, the moment he saw her again, felt her hands and smelled her hair, he knew it was impossible. Since that time, his feelings only increased. Even now, the thought of leaving her, even for a week, was agony.

Hadrian was right. He should quit and take her away somewhere, perhaps get a small bit of land where they could raise a family. Somewhere quiet where no one knew Gwen as a prostitute or himself as a thief. They could even go to Avempartha, that ancient citadel of his people. The tower stood vacant and would likely remain that way indefinitely, far beyond the reaches of anyone who did not know its secrets. The thought was appealing but he pushed it back, telling himself he would revisit it soon. For now, he had people waiting, which brought his mind back to Hadrian.

"I suppose I could look into Esrahaddon's story. Hadrian would be a fool for dedicating his life to someone else's dream, but at least I'd know it was genuine and not some kind of wizard's trick."

"How can you find out?"

"Hadrian grew up in Hintindar. If his father was a Teshlor Knight, maybe he left behind some indication. At least then I would have someone else's word instead of just Esrahaddon's. Our job is taking us south. I could make a stop in Hintindar and see if I can find something out. By the way," he told her gently, "I'll be gone a good deal longer than I have been. I want you to know so you don't worry needlessly."

"I never worry about you," she told him.

Royce's face reflected his pain.

Gwen smiled. "I know you will return safely."

"And how do you know this?"

"I've seen your hands."

Royce looked at her confused.

"I've read your palms, Royce," she told him without a trace of humor. "Or have you forgotten I also make a living as a fortune teller?"

Royce had not forgotten, but assumed it was just a way of swindling the superstitious. Not until that moment did he realize how inconsistent it would be for Gwen to deceive people.

"You have a long life ahead of you," she went on. "Too long-that was one of the clues that you weren't completely human."

"So I have nothing to worry about in my future?"

Gwen's smile faded abruptly.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me," he persisted, gently lifting her chin until she met his eyes.

"It's just that-you need to watch out for Hadrian."

"Did you look at his palms, too?"

"No," she said, "but your lifeline shows a fork, a point of decision. You will head either into darkness and despair or virtue and light. This decision will be precipitated by a traumatic event."

"What kind of event?"

"The death of the one you love the most."

"Shouldn't you be worried about yourself then?"

Gwen smiled warmly at him. "If only that were so, I'd die a happy woman. Royce, I'm serious about Hadrian. Please watch out for him. I think he needs you now more than ever. And I'm frightened for you if something were to happen to him."

When Royce returned to the Rose and Thorn, he found Hadrian still seated at the same table only he was no longer alone. Beside him sat a small figure hooded in a dark cloak. Hadrian sat comfortably. Either the person sitting next to him was safe, or he was too drunk to care.

"Take it up with Royce when he gets here," Hadrian was saying. "Ah!" He looked up. "Perfect timing."

"Are you from-" Royce stopped as he sat down and saw the face beneath the hood.

"I do believe that is the first time I've ever surprised you, Royce," the Princess Arista said.

"Oh no, that's not true," Hadrian chuckled. "You caught him way off guard when we were hanging in your dungeon and you asked us to kidnap your brother. That was much more unpredictable, trust me."