“OfcourseI do. But just because he lied about the one, makes the other no less true.”
“It does, Vis! The man does nothing but manipulate.” He issues a streamof Cymrian invective. “I am sorry. Truly. But I must go before someone comes looking for me.” He wraps me in another embrace. Lingers in it, just for a moment. This one is to say farewell.
Then he is walking away.
“Eidhin.”
He pauses.
“I do understand.” Heart thudding. Sick to my stomach, even through everything else. I knew it would come to this, and perhaps it’s the wrong decision. Perhaps it won’t make a difference. But if I don’t try, I’ll never forgive myself. Icannotlose him. Not him too. “I know what it’s like to be responsible for a people. To need to protect them above yourself. And I know what it’s like to feel like you have no choice but to do things you otherwise would never do.”
He frowns. Turns fully, now, to regard me curiously.
A heartbeat. Two. And I cautiously, cautiously let the tiniest shard of what has happened tonight back in. It hurts, far more than any of my physical pains. But I need him tohearthis.
“My name is not Vis.” I’m almost light-headed at the words. “My name is Diago, son of Cristoval. I am—I was—a prince of Suus, before the Hierarchy invaded.” I limp back over to some rubble. Sit heavily. “They killed my family and they would have killed me too if I hadn’t escaped. I’ve hidden from them for nearly five years. And in that time, the only people who found out were the Anguis.”
I let the metal flow upward from my chest, until my mask settles in place. My arm forms from the supports of my legs, and I flex it for him.
“I let them use me.” My voice breaks from behind the iron. A desolate admission to myself as much as him, now. “I let them manipulate me because I was afraid—afraid for myself, afraid for those I cared for. They made me think I didn’t have achoice. They asked for more, and more, and I gave it to them.” I let the metal retreat again. Back to my legs. Back to the armour. “You’ll serve them until you break or die, Eidhin. And in the end, you won’t have done the right thing. You won’t have made a difference. You’ll just have mitigated one tiny part of their evil, by helping them advance another.” I shake my head slowly. Letting my weary grief infuse the words. “These decisions feel so impossible. I know. The consequences fill your vision. They know we value loyalty and family and friendship above all else. But my friend,theydon’t, and there will always be people for them to hurt. To threaten us with. As long as we let ourselves be theirprisoners, nothing will change.” I hesitate. “And in the end, they will destroy the ones we love anyway,” I whisper.
Eidhin sits. As stunned as I have ever seen him. He looks at me as if I am a stranger, and I cannot think of a glance that has hurt more, though I see no anger in it. Only lost, sad confusion.
Silence, and I stare at the ground miserably.
“You were forced to do this. To be …this.” He finally gestures. Says the words not as a question, but as a reassurance to himself. A desperation to believe it.
“No. I told myself I had no choice, but Idid. That’s the point. I should have drawn my line long ago.” I take a deep breath. Lump in my throat, but then I’m crushing it down ruthlessly once again. Perhaps it is unfair to tell him this now. But he needs to know. “Eidhin, Aequa is dead. Decimus killed her in front of me today, because Iro died.” His face twists in unaffected pain but I press on, not letting the emotion stop me. “You once told me that death is meaningless if it does not change us. I can’t take back what I helped begin, can’t change any of this. But I can at least try to make it matter.”
He sits there. Horror painting his features. In shock, but he also knows the urgency of our situation, knows that whatever decision he makes must be made now.
“I have many, many questions. Most of them can wait. But I need you to answer me at least this one,” he says eventually. “These men—Redivius, Laurentius, Decimus—they are all the same. One monster with different faces. So what is your plan? Why should—”
“Breac?” The voice echoes in the abandoned alley. Only a moment’s notice and then the other man Eidhin was with appears, spear at the ready. Eyes widening as he spots me. My missing arm. “You’re Catenicus.”
“Siollan.” Eidhin puts up his spear, spreading his hands to indicate there’s no threat.
Siollan’s eyes flash to black.
It happens so fast. Eidhin steps between me and his comrade. Siollan’s face twists. Jumpy, or overeager, or just not willing to risk talking—it doesn’t matter. He’s angry, or scared, and his spear is in his hand. Arm cocked back. I send metal shards at him as he hurls, take him in the throat with a slashing, gurgling spray, but I’m too late. The spear is already airborne. Eidhin firmly in its path.
Then Diago is there, leaping.
The spear takes him in the throat.
There’s a heartbeat where I don’t believe it. A sharp howl of pain from the animal as it staggers back.
“NO!” I’m screaming the word. The alupi is on his side, twitching and yelping, the sound shrill. Siollan’s glassy eyes stare upward. Eidhin’s hands fall to his side in dismay and shock as I skid to my knees next to Diago; his teeth are bared and he almost looks like he’s going to snap at me, but I put a hand on his head and he just wheezes as I stroke him. Biting in occasional helplessness at the protruding haft.
“Vek.” I don’t know what to do. There’s blood covering my hands, but somehow, not as much as there should be. Perhaps it has missed the artery? “Do we pull it out?”
Eidhin is on his knees by my side. Gestures helplessly. “Won’t that just make it worse?”
I groan, using my blade to slice through the haft. “You’ll be alright. You’ll be alright,” I murmur to the wolf, the desperation in my voice a prayer.
Diago is still snarling, but he staggers to his feet. Eyes red. Dribbling blood from his mouth.
“How is he still standing?” whispers Eidhin, patting him as if the act will somehow heal his wounds. I press my head gently against the animal’s. It seems to calm him, just enough.
