“So your plan is to draw it away and keep it occupied while I run for the sword?”
“Yep, you get the sword and kill it. I think I can buy you at least two minutes, but I’m hoping for as much as five. More than that I think is dreaming. After five minutes of dodging it, I will get tired and it will get frustrated to the point of using fire. I can’t dodge that. Still, even two minutes should be plenty of time to cross that room and find the sword.”
“What if it’s locked?”
“It’s not. I saw it when I was in there getting Gaunt. It’s standing open. Hadrian, you know I’m right. Besides, it’s not just you I’m thinking about. There are five other people who will die unless I do this—granted their lives don’t mean as much to me, but I know it matters to you.”
“And you’re sure you want to do this?”
“I want to do it for Gwen. Hadrian, what else do I have to live for? The only thing I have is to fulfill her last request. That’s all. After I do that…”
Hadrian closed his eyes and rapped his skull against the wall behind him, creating a dull thud. There was a pressure behind his eyes, a throbbing in his head.
“You know I’m right,” Royce said.
“What do you want? You want me to say, ‘Hooray, thanks, pal, for saving us’?”
“I don’t want anything, except for you to live—you and the rest of them—even Magnus and Gaunt. It’s what I can give you and the only thing I can give her. If I manage to save you, and you do get this stupid horn and it saves everyone, it will make her death mean something—mine too, I suppose. That’s more than either of us could have hoped for. A prostitute and a no-good thief saving the world—it’s not a bad epitaph. You can see I’m right, can’t you?”
Hadrian let his head rest and stared out at the black. “Don’t you get tired of always being right?”
“We made a good team, didn’t we?” Royce replied. “Arcadius wasn’t such a fool putting us together after all.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“Watch it. I’m about to die to save your ass, so be nice.”
“Thanks for that, by the way.”
“Yeah, well, you’ll be happy to be rid of me. You can go back to blacksmithing in Hintindar and live a quiet happy life. Do me a favor and marry some pretty farm girl and train your son to beat the crap out of imperial knights.”
“Sure,” Hadrian told him. “And with any luck he’ll make friends with a cynical burglar who’ll do nothing but torment him.”
“With any luck.”
“Yeah,” Hadrian said. “With any luck.”
The two sat in silence for a moment. In the room, Hadrian could hear Gaunt snoring.
“We should do this sooner than later,” Royce told him. “Just in case the air is running out and while you still have plenty of water and food to escape with, right?”
“I suppose.”
“You know, when I’m dead, and it’s dead—assuming there’s anything left of me, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if you laid me to rest in the tomb of Novron. Can’t ask for better accommodations, really, and tell Myron to say something nice, something poetic, something about Gwen and me.”
“What? No!” Arista shouted.
She was standing against the wall, a blanket pulled around her shoulders, her fingers white where they clutched the dark wool. Her head was shaking from side to side in a slow constant motion, like the ticking of a pendulum clock.
Magnus and Mauvin flanked her. Neither said a word as Royce explained the plan. In their eyes, Hadrian could see concern, but also resignation. Gaunt was up and looking hopeful, his eyes bright for the first time since they had entered the room.
“It’s the only way,” Royce assured her as he sat down on his pack, where he had left his boots. “And it will work. I know it will.”
“You’ll die!” she shouted. “You’ll die and I won’t be able to save you.”
Royce pulled his boots on. “Of course I will, and I don’t want you to,” he said, and paused a moment before adding, “It will all be over—finally.”
“No, you’ll both die, I know it.” Arista looked up at Hadrian with the same expression of terror on her face. “Don’t do this. Please.”
Hadrian turned away and unbuckled his belt, dropping his swords. He would be able to run faster without them. “Which way you gonna go, Royce?”
“Right, I think,” he said, throwing off his cloak. “That will put me on its left; maybe it’s right-handed. I’ll try to keep it busy as long as possible, but we’ll see how fast it is. I’m going to try to sneak to the right corner and get as far in as possible before I draw its attention, so wait for me to yell. With luck, you’ll have an open field to run across.”
“You’re doing it now?” The princess’s head was shaking even faster.
Hadrian leaned against the wall and stretched his legs, then jogged in place for a few seconds. “No sense putting it off.”
“Please,” Arista begged in little more than a whisper. Taking a step toward Hadrian, she reached out and then stopped.
Royce approached Magnus, who took a step back. The thief reached into his cloak and pulled out Alverstone, still in its sheath. He held it out to the dwarf. “I was wondering if you could watch after this for me.”
“Are you serious?” the dwarf asked.
Royce nodded.
Slowly, warily, Magnus touched the weapon gingerly with both hands, cradling it like a newborn.
“You’re really going to do this?” the dwarf asked, nodding at the Vault of Days.
“It’s all that’s left to try.”
“I—I could go,” Magnus said, still looking at the dagger. “I could take a lantern—”
“With your little legs?” Royce laughed. “You’d just get Hadrian killed.”
Magnus looked up, his brows running together, his lips shifting as if he were chewing something. “I should be the last person…” The dwarf stopped.
“Let’s just say recent events have made me realize I’ve done a number of things I shouldn’t have. Bad things. Worse, I suppose, than what you’ve done. Right now, hating you seems… stupid.” Royce smiled.
The dwarf nodded. “I’ll—I’ll hold on to it for you, take good care of it, but just until you need it again.”
Royce nodded and moved to the door. He reached up and drew back the seals. “Shall we, partner?”
“See you on the other side, pal.”
Hadrian threw his arms around the thief and, surprisingly, felt Royce hug him back. With one final smile, Royce pushed open the door and disappeared into the darkness of the Vault of Days.
Hadrian waited at the doorway. He could not see anything, nor could he hear a sound, but he did not expect to.
“Do you want the lantern?” Myron whispered.
“No,” Hadrian replied. “I’ll run faster without it, but maybe the princess could stand here and make her robe bright when I start to run.” He said this without turning, without looking at her.