“I think it’s best if you’re not alone,” said Pashla.
She was grateful for Pashla’s company, though the two of them didn’t say much. Pashla seemed lost in her own thoughts while Kyra sat against a tree and scribbled diagrams on the ground with a stick. She couldn’t stay still and got up frequently to pace.
“Something worries you,” said Pashla.
Kyra took a moment to choose her words. “People will die in these raids,” she said. “Both ours and theirs.”
“Is it really so bad a thing to die in battle?” said Pashla. “There’s a saying amongst our people: ‘It is better to die honorably and render yourself immortal than live to old age and fade to dust.’”
“It in’t quite the same,” said Kyra. “You joined the fight because you think it’s worth fighting. But most of the soldiers in this war fight under orders. Some might truly care for the cause, but others serve because it’s the best way to feed their families, and still others were conscripted. So many lives stand to be lost, and it’s all for the ambitions of a few.” And there was more. It was becoming clear to Kyra that there would be no turning back from this. If she changed shape and fell on the caravan with the others, there would be no Tristam this time to keep her in line. She would take pleasure in the slaughter. She would lose herself in the act of war, and the men in the caravan would die gruesome, painful deaths.
Pashla laid a hand on her arm. “We have all agreed to follow you. If you’ve changed your mind about attacking the Edlan troops, then we don’t have to continue on with our plans.”
It was tempting, but Kyra shook her head. “No, we continue with the plan. I don’t see any better way. I do love Forge, and if we hand it over to Willem, more people will be hurt in the long run. More people will go hungry, or lack for medicine…”
Kyra stopped short when she realized that the words coming out of her mouth were not her own. Did the fire take more than what the Palace would have taken eventually? Lives lost when folk can’t buy medicine and food. Homes lost because the fatpurses forever grab for more. James had been talking about his Demon Rider raid, the one that killed Bella. Kyra had confronted him in a rage, unable to understand how he could have done something that took so many lives. Oh, James, if you could see me now. Here she was a few months later, in the forest among her fellow Makvani, orchestrating an attack of her own and justifying it with his words.
Something crunched in the snow around her. Perhaps Kyra was becoming attuned to her kin, because she immediately knew that another Demon Rider had come. Still, it was Pashla who recognized the newcomer first.
“Leyus,” she said, and bowed as he came out.
There was something about the clan leader. Wherever he went, he gave the impression that the territory belonged to him and everybody was there at his will. Kyra wondered what kind of greeting she would have given him if she had been raised as his daughter. Was there a different bow?
“I will have a word with Kyra,” Leyus said.
“Of course,” Pashla said, and retreated.
In the past, being left alone with Leyus would have frightened Kyra, but knowing the truth made her bold. Kyra found that she no longer feared Leyus. Nor did she worry about losing his good opinion. He’d already made it clear that she didn’t have it.
Leyus took his time before speaking, gazing down at her like a potter searching a vessel for flaws. “You’re planning to raid the army caravan tonight,” Leyus said.
“Aye,” she said. It was hard not to fidget under his scrutiny. What was Leyus doing here? “It seemed the best way to hurt the Edlan troops.”