Tristam’s sword hovered a finger’s width from Flick’s throat. Adele’s features blurred and re-formed as she looked between the two of them.
Kyra finally found her voice. “Tristam,” she said softly, almost apologetically. “I think Flick’s right. The Makvani could do a better job of guarding him than I could by myself.”
Tristam’s face was still tight with anger. “Can I have a word, Flick?” he said.
“Aye,” said Flick, resigned.
Tristam lowered his blade, and the two walked into the trees with the wariness of men about to start a duel. Kyra wondered if she should step in. Both Tristam and Flick knew how high the stakes were. They wouldn’t come to blows over this, would they?
“Your friend holds long grudges,” came Pashla’s low voice at her ear.
Kyra could feel a headache starting to form right in the middle of her forehead, and she found she didn’t have the patience for caution or tact. “You killed two of his friends, Pashla. That’s more than a grudge to get over.”
“They were killed in battle,” said Pashla calmly, as if that settled the matter.
Flick and Tristam were arguing and gesticulating, though Kyra couldn’t make out the words. At one point, Flick gestured in their direction, and she got the clear impression that he pointed to her rather than the Demon Riders near her. A short while later, her friends returned. Tristam’s eyes still flashed, and Flick had the look of someone who’d just weathered a hard storm.
“Everything all right?” Kyra asked. She’d have her own words with Flick later, but right now she just wanted to keep everything from falling apart.
“We accept your help,” said Tristam to the Demon Riders.
“We are, in fact, grateful for it,” added Flick. Tristam’s expression remained stony. “And I have clothes for the guards to change into. Seems it would be prudent not to let”—he jerked his head toward the cave—“know about, uh”—he gestured toward the Makvani.
Things progressed quickly after that. Kyra set up a guard schedule with the Demon Riders while Tristam questioned Robert further. The messenger didn’t give him any useful information, but Tristam didn’t seem surprised.
“He needs some time to think. They always do,” Tristam said to Kyra as he prepared to leave. He’d calmed down since the confrontation earlier, and Kyra had seen him thank Adele for the Makvani’s help.
“I certainly needed some time,” said Kyra, thinking back to her interrogation and imprisonment at the Palace.
Tristam’s eyes went cautiously over her face, and only after searching her features did he relax and meet her eyes. “You know, I still feel guilty about how I treated you,” he said.
She smiled wryly up at him. “Why ever for? We’ve been through enough together. No reason to dwell on past misunderstandings.”
They looked at one another, sharing for a moment the memory of when they’d faced off over the interrogation table. And though they had hated each other at the time, thinking back on it now brought Kyra comfort. It was a reason for hope, she supposed, that two people at odds could come so far.
Finally, Tristam looked down. “I should go,” he said. “I’ll be back when I can. Keep him well fed and sheltered. We need him to believe us when we say we can protect him.”
Kyra let out a long, slow breath as she watched Tristam walk away. When he finally disappeared, she covered her eyes with the heel of her hands and arched her back, trying to loosen up her muscles. Footsteps crunched in the snow, and she opened her eyes to see Flick walking toward her, for all the world looking like a dog who’d been caught ransacking the family kitchen.
“So,” he said. “Are you ready to yell at me now?”
That was all the encouragement Kyra needed.
“What were you thinking?” She rounded on him, venting all the tension and betrayal she’d been feeling. “They could have slaughtered each other in front of that cave.”