Page 102 of The Only Way Out Is Up

“I don’t know all the rules here, but people are people, right?” I speak quickly. “When the Clawmarks want to hurt someone but they don’t have a good reason, they push them around, insult them, bait them into taking a swing. You said Gestian can’t touch you while the tournament is on, but if you challenge him—”

“Then I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Is that going to fix anything?”

“Oh dear,” Gestian croons, his tone dripping with mockery. “A lovers’ tiff?”

“Come on.” I pull on Ky’s arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

Slowly, very slowly, she starts to move. Gestian clicks his tongue.

“I hope I haven’t made you feel unwelcome,” he says. “Apologies. On behalf of my employer, please, stay and enjoy the festivities. We haven’t even had the fish course yet.”

“I’ll kill him,” Ky mutters, but she keeps putting one foot in front of the other. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.”

“I’ll help you,” I whisper back, and once again I’m surprised how much I mean it. Gestian’s whole manner is calculated to offend, and it’s fucking worked. Quite apart from the debt I owe the man for chasing us out of Venci’s, I want to wipe that smile off his face. “But not here.”

Ky gives a jerky nod of agreement. The crowd parts before us as we limp to the main doors, and glancing over my shoulder I’m gratified to see Gestian with an irritated look. Better luck next time, asshole.

With the carriage door closed behind us Ky breaks down in tears, her knees drawn up and face buried in her crossed arms. I hover awkwardly on the opposite seat, feeling like I should put my arm around her but too nervous to actually do it. Fortunately the runic carriage knows its own way home, and it clip-clops carefully around the traffic jam in Dreikin’s driveway.

Her sobs gradually fade to subtle shakes of her bare shoulders. By the time we’re back at her estate, she’s silent and motionless except for the occasional bump of the wheels. The runic carriage pulls around to where Bradley is waiting for us.

“Welcome back, miss. Master Taj. I hope—” He stops when Ky doesn’t respond, and I interpose myself in the doorway.

“I think she needs some space,” I tell him. “I’ll take her in, if you don’t mind.”

The old man nods gravely. “Of course, sir. Please ring if you require anything.”

He steps aside, and I look back at Ky. When she still doesn’t move, I hesitantly touch her arm.

“Hey. We’re here.” I pull her hand free and give it a tug. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”

She raises her head, sniffling. Her face is a horror, snot and tears mixed with makeup to make ugly streaks. I guide her arm around my shoulders, and we descend together past the silent Bradley. Inside I spot a sitting room with a couple of armchairs. I pilot her into one, and she draws her knees up again while I close the door behind us.

“I’m sorry,” she says while I move the other chair closer to her. “I’m an idiot. A drunk idiot.” She looks at me over her knees, only her eyes visible. “You saved me from doing something very stupid.”

I shift awkwardly, not sure I want to accept this praise. Ky leans her forehead on her knees.

“I just… didn’t think he’d be there. I thought he’d have the decency to be ashamed of what he did. Not strutting around bold as brass, as good as announcing to the world that he slit my father’s throat for Devon Dreikin.”

“You told me Devon didn’t have the balls.”

“Maybe he grew a pair. Or maybe he’s just another fucking scavenger. What does it matter?” She wraps her arms around her knees and pulls herself into a tight ball. Her hair, coming undone from its elaborate construction, flops forward. “Dead is fucking dead.”

“Well, you did me a favor,” I say brightly, eager to change the subject. I fumble at my collar, undoing the top buttons. “I was suffocating, and people kept asking me what it was like being a barbarian. Happy we snuck out early.”

“I wouldn’t call that sneaking out.” Ky doesn’t look up, but at least there’s an edge of irony in her voice. “It’s a shame, though. I was looking forward to getting you on the dance floor.”

“We could still dance if you want.” I look around the sitting room; it’s one of the smaller rooms in the house, which means it’s only twice the size of the bakery kitchen. “This place is certainly big enough for it. Not that I have any idea what I’d be doing, mind.”

“I’ll show you.” Now she looks up. There’s a mischievous glint in her deep-sunken eyes.

“There’s no music, though.”

“I’ll hum.” She unfolds herself and gets to her feet, a little unsteadily. “Come on, up! You made an offer, no backing out now.”

Well. No backing out now, I guess. I get up, feeling more than awkward, and Ky grabs my hands.