Page 105 of Flames and Blood

I open it.

He’s younger than Kalli, or he looks it, which in this family means nothing. Same dark red in the hair, cut short and tidy. Tall and wide through the shoulders. He’s got a cloth bundle under one arm.

“May I?”

“It’s your mountain.”

“It’s my aunt’s mountain. There’s a difference, and she reminds me of it.” He comes in and sits down on the end of the bed without being asked, which nobody else in this place would do, and puts the bundle on his knees. “I said I’d brought nothing. That was a lie. It’s a blanket. Hesper says the room’s cold and Hesper is never wrong about a room.”

“I don’t feel the cold.”

“Then put it under you. The bed’s terrible. I’ve slept in it.” He sets it on the chair anyway and sits back. “You’re Crowe.”

“I am.”

“Then I want to say something.” He pauses. “You brought her home.”

“I was contracted to.”

“I know. I heard my aunt offer you money in front of the whole hall.” He shakes his head once. “That’s her way. She counts what a thing costs because it’s the only way she knows to say it mattered. It came out wrong.”

“It came out fine.”

“It did not come out fine, and I’ve come down four levels to say so.” He looks at me straight while he says it. “I carried a corner of that casket. I helped put it in the ground. I’ve been to that stone more times than I want to tell you, and yesterday she walked into the hall on her own two feet. So. Thank you. Not for the delivery. For her.”

“You’re welcome,” I say.

“There. Done.” He puts both hands on his knees. “Now I’m going to be a nuisance, because everybody upstairs is being very careful with her and nobody will tell me anything. I’ve decided you’re my best chance.”

“I’m not much of a chance.”

“You’re the only one who was there.” He says it easily. “Where did they keep her?”

“A compound.”

“Where?”

“That’s Aurora’s business now, and the Nocturne Court’s. They’ll release what they release.”

“Fair.” He takes it without a blink. “Was it bad?”

“It was a cell.”

“You knew that was no use to me while you were saying it.” He grins when he says it. It’s a good grin. “All right. Different one. What does she actually remember? Of the start of it. The taking.”

“You’d have to ask her.”

“I’ve asked her. She said it was politics and changed the subject.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not being ghoulish. I’d like to know how much of it she’s carrying so I know how to be around her.”

“Then that’s a question for her.”

“You’re very hard work.”

“I’ve been told.”

He laughs, and it’s a real one, and I find that I like him.

“Last thing,” he says. “Then I’ll go and let you sit in the dark. In all that time—the year of it, the road, all of it—who did she talk to? Did she have a friend there? I hate to think of her being locked up and alone.”