17. Aiden

Chapter 17

Aiden

I heard the whistled tune first.

I waved my arm at Maz and nodded toward the door of the warehouse.

He stilled and listened. “Gods damn it,” he breathed.

Kiera.

Fear slithered through my body and nested in my stomach. Would she remember my instructions? Would she stay with Ruru?

I gently closed the hatch on the smuggler’s hold, sending up a cloud of dust. I swallowed hard to keep from coughing. Maz darted around stacks of crates and barrels to get to the door. The whistling faded away, as did the sound of the wagon wheels.

Maz peered into the empty alleyway. “I don’t see anyone. Should we go after them?”

I frowned. “Ruru wouldn’t be foolish enough to take the wagon if it was Wolves. Perhaps it was just a random passerby.”

But the doubt on Maz’s face mirrored the one in my gut. No one but us was desperate enough to be out here with the Wolves.

“Gods damn it, Ruru,” I muttered, then louder, “We can’t do much else without a wagon to unload, anyway. Move the other wagon out of sight, then we’ll follow.”

Maz nodded and raced for the empty wagon while I quietly locked the warehouse.

Fucking Four, little thief, I hope you heeded my warning.

I strode in the direction I’d heard Ruru whistling, Maz quickly catching up with me.

“Rooftops,” I commanded, finding a low building to scale.

A scrape behind me told me Maz was following, but I didn’t wait. I sprinted across the rooftops.

My feet didn’t falter as I leapt from one building to the next, dancing around debris. I slid over domed roofs and ducked under laundry lines. Despite the needles of fear in my chest, my senses were sharpened to a clarity I craved. Even if the cost was steep.

Something caught the corner of my eye, and I skidded to a halt. Maz caught up a moment later, breathing hard.

“The wagon,” I said, pointing to where it was turned sideways in a narrow alley.

“Cargo’s still there,” Maz grunted.

“Kiera and Ruru must be on foot.” My gut twisted. “Or their pursuers caught up with them.”

“Gods damn it,” Maz swore softly. “Which way would Ruru take her?”

He would head south toward more populated areas with more places to hide. “This way.” I jumped over a narrow alley, tucked my body, and rolled onto the next roof. Guilt gnashed at my heels, making me run faster. I had to find them.

Kiera had knives, but could she use them against Shadow-Wolves? How many were there? I’d heard no howls.

My chest burned. I wanted to roar at the night sky, but I needed every last breath to get to her. To them. I couldn’t bear more deaths on my soul.

“There!” Maz shouted and swung down to the street.

We landed in front of a fleeing Ruru. His eyes were wide with panic, and he was covered in dirt and bloody scrapes.

“What happened?” I demanded. “Where’s Kiera?”

He gulped for air, gesturing wildly behind him. “Back... back there. Two Wolves.”

A thousand curses flooded my mind. “Show me,” I bit out.

We ran through a twisted mess of alleys until the sounds of a struggle reached my ears. The next moment, I jerked to a standstill at the scene before me.

A body in black on the ground.

Kiera slashing and stabbing at a Wolf who tried to cut her down with equal fervor.

She was alive. But hurt. Her movements weakening.

My blades were in my hands before I could think. I charged just as the Wolf hit her on the side of her head. She crumpled.

“Kiera!” I roared.

The Wolf’s attention shot toward me. But I didn’t hesitate. I leapt at him. Sank one blade through his weapon hand and the other into his throat, pinning him to a wall.

The sunstone knife clattered to the ground. The Wolf gurgled, shuddering on my blade.

I ripped his mask off. His heavy, scarred face sneered at me even as he choked on his own blood.

As the life left his eyes, I whispered, “May the gods never find your soul.”

I wrenched my blades out of his body, letting it slide to the ground. I hurried over to where Ruru knelt next to Kiera. Maz stood over them both, his face stricken, axe in hand.

“Don’t touch her,” I snapped at Ruru.

He backed away, his eyes cast down. The rage in my blood cooled. I set aside my knives and laid a bloody hand on his arm. “Forgive me, Ruru. This isn’t your fault.”

He looked up at me, silver lining his dark eyes. “She’s still breathing.”

I inhaled sharply, turning my full attention to Kiera. Her body was so still. Only a slight rise and fall in her chest.

I turned from warrior to healer. I pressed my fingers to her neck. A faint pulse. I traced her body from head to toe, checking for broken bones and swelling. She had a shallow but nasty cut across her chest and a large lump on her temple. Her limp fingers still held a bloody knife.

“Stay with me,” I murmured to her.

I worked the knife out of her grasp, wiped it off on the dead Wolf, and shoved it in my boot.

“They came out of nowhere.” Ruru was babbling. “They wouldn’t stop coming. I tried to lose them but... but the alley.” He gestured weakly at the pile of rubble.

“Did they howl for help?” Maz demanded, stalking a perimeter around us.

“No. She... she killed that one quickly.” Ruru pointed at the body lying deeper in the alley. “And I heard nothing from the other one, even after she told me to run.”

“Thank the gods,” Maz breathed.

“Don’t thank them yet.” I stared down at Kiera’s bloodied body. Memories battled for my sanity. Darkness crowded my vision. How did I always end up standing over the body of someone I should’ve protected?

With a growl, I tore myself away from the edge of that particular cliff. “Maz, take care of the wagons and the warehouse while Ruru and I get Kiera to safety. If you see even a flicker in the shadows, abandon everything and save yourself.”

Maz gripped his axe tighter. “I’d rather stay with you, brother.”

I shook my head. “We’ll manage. Right, Ruru?”

The boy wiped the tears from his cheeks and straightened his shoulders. “I would do anything to protect her.”

As will I, it seems.

I nudged the thought away and got to work.

My heart didn’t stop pounding until we reached our rooms.

I gently laid Kiera on her cot while Ruru hid the stolen Shadow-Wolf gear under a loose floorboard. We’d taken the uniform of the Wolf Kiera had killed, but the other Wolf’s was too shredded to be of use. We also gathered up their masks and knives. A choice I might come to regret.

But a part of me wanted to know that when Renwell found his dead Wolves, they would be unmasked and unarmed. A feeling I hoped he would understand intimately soon enough.

I also collected Kiera’s knives and cleaned them. Whether she’d want them after all this, I didn’t know. But at least they would be here.

My years of training in Twaryn took over as I removed her boots and grabbed our medical supplies and a bowl of water. I cleaned her head wound and the cut on her chest. I had to remove her bloody shirt, Ruru aiding me with tight-lipped efficiency. She wore a tight band around her breasts, but I averted my eyes, anyway.

We didn’t have the herbs that would’ve worked best for her head wound, but I made do with a different poultice that would at least slow the bleeding and ease the swelling.

The knife wound was more difficult.

A Wolf’s sunstone blade had jagged edges due to only being sharpened on more sunstone. The cuts were never smooth. Skin gave way to sunstone like torn parchment.

While I was creating a sealing paste with my precious few clawberries, Maz returned.

“How is she?” he asked immediately.

“The same.” I carefully pinched her skin together and slathered the thick, sticky paste over the seam.

“It’s my fault,” Ruru whispered, staring at Kiera’s pale face with a look I knew all too well. “If I hadn’t led her to that alley... If I knew how to fight better...”

“Thinking of every possibility but the truth only makes it harder to accept.” I finished dabbing the last bit of paste on her cut, her chest now a mess of green gunk. But no blood. “And the truth is it’s not your fault, Ruru. Shadow-Wolves did this. They alone are to blame.”

He sniffled while I pulled the blanket up over her chest. Enough to keep her warm but well away from the paste.

Now she just needed to wake up. I’d seen people with head injuries who slept until death. I prayed the knife hilt hadn’t caused more damage than I could see.

It was one of the reasons I never wanted to be a true healer. Too many times, healing coupled with hopelessness in a way I couldn’t bear. Even for strangers.

Yet I maintained what skills I had to be of use when I could. My way of bringing a little light into a world I’d smudged with darkness.

My throat grew tight as I gazed down at Kiera.

Wake up, little thief. Don’t let them win.

Don’t leave me.

I blinked at the startling thought. Clearing my throat, I left Ruru holding Kiera’s hand and began to clean up the mess I’d made.

Maz leaned against the doorframe between the rooms and watched as I repacked the medical bag, tossed the dirty water out the window, and poured some fresh water in the basin. I set it on our table and washed my hands, then raked my fingers through my hair. The cool water trickled down my scalp.

“Aiden—” Maz started in that calming, understanding tone that tore through my defenses like knife through muscle.

“Did you secure the warehouse?” I cut in, staring out the window. I am free. I am alive. As are Maz, Ruru, and Kiera.

“Yes.” A chair creaked as Maz eased into it. “I saw no one, heard nothing. The cargo is accounted for. I grabbed the pack of darts and venom Skelly brought me, but left everything else. The horses and wagons are back at their stable.”

“Good.” I slowly sat in another chair and gave Maz a weary nod. “Thank you, brother.”

He nodded back. “Any news from the Temple?”

“Librius is still making good progress, and training is going well.”

“Any word from Nikella?”

“No. But she’ll be here soon enough.”

Maz leaned forward, stroking his short beard. “And what of our little dancer? Will she be ready, do you think?”

I looked toward the window once more. Dark clouds hid the moon and stars. The fitful breeze that drifted in smelled of rain. “If she wakes up,” I said in a rough voice.

Maz grasped my arm and squeezed. “She will, Aiden. She’s a fighter. Don’t mourn what you haven’t yet lost.”

I met his solemn gaze. I envied his ability to have hope, to shed the weight of fear. But I also thanked the gods for it.

“I’m assuming you want first watch?” he asked, heading over to his cot and tugging off his boots. “Though you might have to knock Ruru unconscious for the privilege.”

My lips twitched with a spark of humor. “I’ll barter with him. Sleep well, Mazkull.”

“Watch well, Aiden.”

By the time I convinced Ruru he could have the next watch if he got some sleep, Maz’s snores thundered from the other room. Ruru could barely keep his eyes open as he cleaned the scrapes on his arms and coated them with the hornleaf sap I gave him to fight infection. He collapsed on my cot and was breathing deeply in minutes.

I dragged the extra cot next to Kiera and sat on it. I hated this windowless room with its low lamplight and stale air, but I needed to be at her side if she woke.

When she woke.

As the hours dragged on, I found myself studying what I could see of her. The strong set of her shoulders dusted with freckles. The shine of her hair in its tangled braid. Those scarred fingers. Light, thieving, deadly. Would she hate what they had done? Would she hate me if I held her hand as Ruru had?

I wanted to. Gods damn it, I wanted to clutch her hand, touch her skin, gather her up in my arms. Anything to anchor this fierce woman to life.

But I resisted.

Instead, I memorized every detail of her face. The dark brown curves of her eyebrows and the stillness of her long lashes. The delicate sweep of her cheekbones and jawline. Her smooth, defiant chin. The flare of her straight nose. And her lips... curved and pink. And a little dry.

I rose quietly and dipped a rag into the pitcher of water in her room. I brushed it over her lips. They twitched, parting.

Elation pounded in my chest. I rushed back to the pitcher to fill a cup with water. Cradling her head in my hand, I nuzzled the cup between her lips.

“Drink,” I murmured to her.

After a moment, she took a sip, then another. She swallowed and began to gulp greedily.

I drew back the cup. “Easy. Go slow, little thief.”

She whimpered, and I dripped more water into her mouth. Finally, her eyes fluttered open. There. That was what I’d been missing. Those beautiful amber eyes that glowed with the light of her soul.

Even if it quickly dimmed as she remembered.

“Aiden?” Her voice cracked. “Where’s Ruru?” Tears beaded in her eyes.

My heart softened, as if she’d caressed it. “He’s safe, sleeping in the next room with Maz. You saved his life.”

Her face crumpled with pain and exhaustion. “Everything hurts. What—” She lifted her hand toward her chest. “What is this?”

I grabbed her hand, gently guiding it back to her covered stomach. “Don’t touch it. You have a long gash across your chest, but my paste will heal it.”

Her eyes widened, and she tucked her chin to look downward. “You... you took my shirt.”

“We kept you covered as best we could. No leering. I swear on Maz’s three sisters who would cut out my eyes if I were lying.” Though I had been admiring everything else I could see.

She nodded, her relief fleeing under the current of more pain. But she didn’t reach this time. “My head,” she whispered.

“He hit you hard, but you’re awake and talking and remembering, which is the best we could hope for.”

She closed her eyes. “It doesn’t feel that way.” Her chin scrunched, and she turned her face away from me.

The muffled sound of her crying nearly undid me.

Whoever this woman was, whatever reason she kept her path twined with mine, her heart was good. And I found myself yearning for a piece of it. But how could I want that when I had nothing to offer in return?

I handed her a dry rag. “Don’t disturb the paste,” I reminded her.

She slowly dabbed at her face. “He was the first person I’ve ever . . . ever . . .”

Killed . I ground my teeth together.

Fucking Four. Why had she insisted on staying in Aquinon? I’d warned her. Death followed me. Death was everywhere. And now it clung to her too.

She faced me again, her eyes shining with misery. “Does it always feel like this?”

My whole body clenched. “No.”

She winced, but I didn’t elaborate. How could I possibly explain to her that each life I’d taken had left a different stain on my soul? No two lives were the same as no two deaths were.

“What happened to the other one?” she asked, not meeting my eyes.

“I killed him.” And I didn’t regret it.

“Two more dead Wolves,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Renwell will be furious.”

“The alternative was worse.”

“Was it?” Her mouth twisted as if the words tasted bitter. “You could’ve left me there to die. Reclaimed your wagon and hid your cargo. Then the remaining Wolf would’ve taken the only criminal he had.”

I sat back, not fully comprehending her words. “Was that what you expected from me? Do you really think I would leave you to such a fate?”

“You did for that other woman.”

“There were four Wolves that night. Fighting them would’ve gotten all of us killed. If I could’ve saved her, I would have.” I gripped the edges of her cot and leaned into her face. “But I will not be the reason you die, Kiera.”

She studied me for a moment, her gaze poking and prodding at mine. Then it softened. She lifted her hand slowly, haltingly, giving me time to pull away.

But I didn’t.

I let her brush my cheek with those fingers I craved. She cupped my jaw in her palm, and I closed my eyes. Just for one moment. One thread of connection. One beat of unity.

“I believe you,” she whispered, then let me go.

I pulled away from her. My heart contorted oddly in my chest. As if trying to figure out how to keep beating among these dangerous feelings.

What are you doing to me, little thief?