28
This is truth.Truth.
John waslying.
The dark corridor had slowly begun to spin, Rosa’s knees actually knocking together. Her breath coming in short, high-pitched little gulps, Lord Kaspar washere, with anarmy, John waslying…
She only vaguely felt Simon’s huge hand on her elbow, steadying her, keeping her upright. The touch surprisingly gentle, and Rosa’s head snapped up, her eyes frantically blinking at his frowning face. He’d known too, he’d known this whole time, and maybe — maybe he’d even tried towarnher —
“Would you,” she gulped at him, “take me to John? Now?Please, Simon?”
The irritation visibly flared in his eyes, he didn’t want to, of course he didn’t, he’d never been able to stand her — and Rosa gulped back a sob, and shoved away from him, staggering down the black corridor. She would find someone. Anyone. Please…
The sudden grip of a hand on her elbow made her jump, her arms flailing — but it was only Simon again. Simon, who despite the still-present look of visible annoyance on his face, had begun steering her bodily down the corridor.
Rosa’s feet moved on their own, fighting to keep up, staggering into the darkness. She’d entirely forgotten the lamp, still burning back there in the library, and the pitch-black corridor felt narrow, claustrophobic, thoroughly disorienting. Simon’s stride was far larger than John’s, and the corridor seemed to follow a twisting, erratic path that her rough mental map couldn’t at all place, but maybe that was due to the continued wild screeching in her skull, the earsplitting thud of her heartbeat.
Lord Kaspar washere. John hadlied.
There was a rising clatter ahead of them, voices and commotion filling the darkness, and suddenly light blasted across Rosa’s eyes. From atorch, that was somehow burning in Simon’s hand — and up ahead multiple orcs had thrown their arms in front of their faces, several of them loudly cursing.
But John was among them, he’d been walking close beside Nattfarr, though his form had stilled mid-step, his hand also shielding his eyes. And with them was also the captain, and Jule, and Baldr and Drafli and Olarr, all blinking at Simon and Rosa’s clearly unexpected appearance.
“Rosa!” Jule said, with genuine-seeming surprise. “What are you doing here? Were you supposed to be at the meeting? I’m so sorry, we just finished.”
The meeting. Rosa’s eyes darted reflexively toward John, searching his face — and yes, yes, oh gods, it had been a meeting withLord Kaspar, John waslying…
“I just,” Rosa’s voice choked, sounding like someone else’s. “Needed to see John.”
No one argued, of course, and John abruptly stepped away from the group, striding over toward her. But his face, his eyes, he didn’t like that she’d come here, he was frustrated, annoyed,disapproving—
“Can we talk?” Rosa managed, through her too-thick tongue. “In private? Now? Please?”
John’s head nodded, curt and quick, and he wordlessly grasped the torch from Simon’s hand, and then gestured in the opposite direction of the group, the movement sharp. As if he were truly angry, at Rosa, when he’d been the one who’d beenlyingto her, all this time. And with Rosa’s rising shock and incredulity, there was a quivering, unsettlinghurt.
But John didn’t seem to notice, he was ushering her into a strange new room, one that — Rosa’s head whipped around, her eyes wide — had actualshacklesembedded in the walls, and chains coiled like snakes across the stone floor.
It was a —prison.
Rosa stared at John, at how he’d roughly thrust the torch into a wall bracket, and spun to face her. His arms crossed, his entire form emanating anger, frustration, disapproval.
But he didn’t speak, he was waiting, for her. For her to explain her actions, maybe, and Rosa gulped for breath, for coherency.Hewas the liar here. He had no right.None.
“When were you going to tell me,” she choked, “about Lord Kaspar? Coming here? Forme?”
John’s arms flexed over his chest, his lip curling, his narrow eyes glittering in the torchlight. “I should have told you this,” he said, the words crisp, “when you asked me.”
Rosa’s feet wrenched sideways beneath her, pitching her toward the stone wall, and she clutched for it, dragged in air. It was true. Good gods, it was true, maybe it had been true, all this time…
“Youliedto me,” she heard her voice say, frayed, trembling. “Again. You’ve lied abouteverything. The bond. The war. The men. Lord Kaspar. Even your clan’s secretdebauchery. Weagreedon this, John! Yousworeyou would tell me the truth! No falsehoods! Yousaid!”
The anger surged again across his eyes, bright and inexplicable. “I said I shouldtry,” he replied, his voice clipped. “I gave you leave to ask me further of this. Ach, Iurgedyou to this. You did not. I thought, mayhap” — his jaw twitched — “you did notwishto know.”
“OfcourseI want to know!” Rosa shouted back, shrill. “Of course I want to know that mypatronof nine wholeyearshas brought anarmyto Orc Mountain torescueme!”
The words came out sounding wrong, somehow, and before her John faintly, visibly flinched. But didn’t speak, just kept looking at her with those wrong, glittering eyes, while Rosa’s heartbeat knocked louder and louder against her chest.
“How long has Lord Kaspar been here,” she heard herself say, from somewhere far away. “Thetruth, John.”
