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Corny nodded.
"I don't think there is a secret weapon," Kaye said. "No armor, no unbeatable swordsman. Getting his true name out of me—she never needed it.”
Luis opened his mouth and then shut it again.
"I don't get what you're saying." Corny said.
"Ethine." Kaye said, feeling like the name was a slap. "Silarial's going to make Roiben fight Ethine.”
"But. . . Ethine's not a knight," Luis said. "She couldn't even get away from us. She can't fight.”
"That's the point," said Kaye. "There is no contest of skill. If he doesn't murder his own sister, Roiben dies. He has to choose between killing her and killing himself.”
She wanted to stay angry with Roiben, to hang on to the feeling of betrayal so that it pushed back all her hurt, but at that moment she couldn't help pitying him for loving Silarial. Maybe more than she pitied herself for still loving him.
"That's ..." Corny stopped.
"And if he's gone, there'll be no one to stop Silarial from doing whatever she wants to whoever she wants," Luis said.
"And charm an army of endless people," Kaye said. "Scores of frozen sentries.”
"You were a distraction," Luis said. "A red herring. Keep Roiben looking at you, wondering if Silarial's going to get his true name, so he doesn't notice what's right in front of him.”
"Neither fish nor fowl," Kaye said softly. "Good red herring. That's right, isn't it? Kind of funny. That's what I was. A good red herring.”
"Kaye," Corny said. "It's not your fault.”
"We have to warn him," she said, pacing the room. She didn't want to admit that it bothered her that she wasn't going to be carried off for the Tithe, she wasn't the key, she wasn't even important. She'd just made things worse for Roiben, distracted him. Silarial had played them both.
"We don't even know where he is," said Corny. "The hollow hill in the graveyard isn't even hollow anymore.”
"But we know where he will be," she said. "Hart Island.”
"Tomorrow night. At this point, basically later today." Corny walked over to his computer and jiggled the mouse, then typed in a few words. "It's an island off of New York, apparently. With a giant graveyard. And a prison—although I don't think it's in use. And—oh, perfect—it's completely illegal to go there."
All three of them slept squished into Corny's bed, with him in the middle, his arm over Kaye's back, and Luis's head pillowed on his shoulder. When he woke, it was late in the afternoon. Kaye was still curled up beside him, but Luis sat on the rug, speaking softly into Corny's cell phone.
Luis said something about "ashes" and "afford," but he shook his head when he saw Corny watching, and then turned to the wall. Padding past, Corny went out to the kitchen and turned on the coffeepot. He should have been worried. They were hours from heading into danger. Still, as he measured out the grounds, a smile spread over his face.
He immediately felt guilty. He shouldn't be so happy when Luis was mourning his brother. But he was.
Luis liked him. Luis. Liked. Him.
"Hey," Kaye said, scrubbing her hand through her tangled hair. She'd stolen one of his T-shirts and it hung on her like a dress. She grabbed a blue cup out of the cabinet. "Here's to the sweet balm of coffee.”
"By the grace of which we'll accomplish the task before us.”
"Do you think we will?" Kaye asked. "I don't know if Roiben will even listen to me.”
The coffeepot gave a death rattle, and Corny poured three cups. "I do. He will. Honest. Drink up.”
"So . . . you and Luis?" Her mug almost hid her grin.
He nodded. "I mean, not now with everything happening, but yeah.”
"I'm glad." Her smile faded. "You don't have to go tonight. I'm not trying to be a martyr; it's just that with Luis losing his brother and you guys having something . . . This is my problem. They're my people.”
He shrugged and put his arm around her shoulder. "Yeah, well, you're my problem. You're my people.”
