Suddenly, everything in the world made sense to Wince and yet nothing did. He trusted Tollan like a brother. Void, sometimes he trusted Tollan more than he trusted himself. He knew Tollan Daghan as well as he knew anyone. Or so he’d thought up until the instant he had walked into that library.
He stood with a broom in his hands, overwhelmed by the sense of shame that he felt. He slid down to the floor and put the broom beside him. He pulled Uri’s coin from his pocket and stared at the sharp-nosed woman whose face graced one side. “I cocked everything up, Uri,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I never asked him … I just … I just assumed that he …” Wince glanced over his shoulder, making sure that no one was within earshot. “I loved you from the minute I laid eyes on you. And like the big, dumb ass that I am, I assumed that he did, too. Especially after …”
He couldn’t bear to speak of Tollan’s offer, and her death. It rattled his chest to think of the enormous sacrifice that he now saw Tollan’s offer had been. He couldn’t bear to think of the all-too-brief love affair he and Uri had. He couldn’t dwell on the baby—because no amount of wishing and hoping and sobbing would change that she was gone and that she’d chosen death over him.
He rolled the coin across his knuckles and wiped away his tears. As much as it hurt, he didn’t blame her. He only wished he’d been enough to keep her here. “Thanks, Uri,” he whispered as he slipped the gold piece back into his pocket. “I’ll make sure to do better by him than I did by you.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DOCKSIDE
Tollan was surprised at how swiftly things had moved, once Elam made contact with Devery. The same evening that the ships arrived, Devery had signaled Elam, and with their help—and a few well-placed burning bottles of whiskey—the master assassin had managed to escape the clutches of his mother with Gemma’s unconscious body.
Days passed in a whirlwind, and Tollan grew quite adept at the art of avoidance. He’d been avoiding putting himself in any situation that would give Wince the opportunity to mention the scene in the Brighthold library. He’d been avoiding his mother, though, goddess knew, that was getting more difficult by the hour since she’d sailed in with the pirate fleet. And he’d been avoiding facing what was going on in his head like the plague.
He and Wince had taken up residence in Dockside, one street from the waterfront in a tumbledown inn called the Sea Dragon’s Tail. The straggling Guild members now filled its rooms to overflowing.
A petite woman with graying hair named Lian had taken charge, and Tollan was glad to take orders from someone. In the days since they’d come to Dockside, Elam had shown up several times, speaking in hushed tones with Lian and with a ridiculous-looking man named Riquin, whose beard was trimmed into the shape of a bird. Apparently, he was the captain of all the pirates in Yigris. Tollan had seen Elam passing messages to thieves and whores and murderers, had seen him laugh with street rats and share a meal with a pair of filthy sailors while they threw a set of bone dice. Twice, Elam had found Tollan alone and had taken the opportunity to kiss his cheek. He told Tollan that Gemma was still unconscious, and that he’d let them all know as soon as she woke up. Tollan could still feel the soft pressure of the last kiss—warm, tickling with new beard growth—and it sent shivers down his spine.
On the fourth night, he stumbled out of his room to take his turn on guard duty. Lian demanded that the streets be guarded at all times to ensure the mage women didn’t try to finish what they’d started with the Guild. As he tumbled down the steps, he found himself staring at Wince. “Hey, Toll,” his friend said cordially. “Fancy meeting you here. Looks like we’re on watch together.”
Wince chucked him on the shoulder. There seemed to be no avoiding the questions now. They sat on the front stoop of a pub called the Kraken’s Grave. Wince stopped grinning and glanced around to make sure they were alone. “You’re a hard man to find these days,” he said, his attention fixed on the blade of the sword he held across his lap.
“I’m sorry,” Tollan said. “There’s been a lot to do.”
Wince nodded. A long, painful silence followed, until he finally said, “Can I ask you something, Toll?”
Tollan sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t suppose I could pay you not to?”
Wince chuckled, though the laugh sounded forced.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
There was an emotion in his tone that Tollan had not expected. Not anger. Not disgust. Something else—pity perhaps or maybe something closer to empathy. Without meaning to, Tollan met his gaze. “Would it have changed things?” he asked. “I was the heir to Abram’s throne. What I wanted was of no consequence.”
One side of Wince’s mouth turned up, and he laughed. “Well, I might not have flashed my cock about so much when we were kids. I was always pissing in front of you or swimming in my skin. I mean, that sort of temptation could have been distracting, I’m sure.”
“Aegos, Wince. Just because I’m attracted to men doesn’t mean that I was driven mad by the sight of your childish, flaccid cock. You’re not my type.”
“Yeah?” Wince said, his smile growing wider. “Well, you’re not really my type, either.” He held his neck straight and his nose in the air, feigning indignation.
“Wince,” Tollan said, his own voice low. “Why didn’t you tell me about Uri?”
Wince looked at him, his blue eyes like slate. “You said it yourself, Toll. We’re born who we’re going to be, and no amount of wishing was going to make me an acceptable match for her. Before we … before the stable, I thought that I’d spend my whole life pining for her, and I wasn’t wrong. I just pine differently now.”
“I’m sorry, Wince, I—”
“You offered her what I couldn’t, Tollan. It isn’t your fault that your father was a prickling shit, and it wasn’t your fault that she felt there was nowhere else to turn. I just wish that I’d have been brave enough to tell her how I felt. I wish I’d given her the chance to choose a life with me and the baby. Honestly, I wish I’d thought more like the people in Under.”
Tollan nodded in silence. There was nothing more to say. A few moments later, he looked up at Wince. “Did you arrange for us to be on guard together?”
Wince grinned, torchlight dancing in his eyes. “These bloody thieves. I had to pay Lian a silver for the privilege.”
Tollan and Wince sat the next hour of their watch in silence as the sun crested over the horizon. Tollan had to fight against tears of gratitude for Wince’s friendship.
Then, the clang of steel on steel broke the morning calm. They stood, swords at the ready. Tollan pounded on the door to alert those inside. They took the steps two at a time and rounded the street corner just in time to hear his mother, Isbit, snarl, “I don’t care who you work for, you runny little shit. You come onto my boat without permission to board and I’ll end you.”
“Prick,” Tollan said under his breath.
The man on the ground was bleeding from his face and shoulder.
“I’m glad we got that cleared up,” she said. “Be gone before I decide that I’m not in the mood for mercy.” Then she looked up and saw Tollan.