“I don’t think it works that way. I don’t think you can alter the future. If you could, she would have seen that.”
“I don’t know,” Hadrian replied, finding it hard to discuss rationally the virtues of Royce’s killing himself.
“Okay, let me put it this way,” Royce said. “Can you think of any other way out of here?”
Hadrian was starting to feel a little sick, the air harder to breathe than before.
“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?”