“It will be a bloodbath. Hundreds will die, most of them from the poor. And meanwhile, Willem will be marked a hero.” More people will die than perished in James’s Demon Rider raids. That thought disturbed her in more ways than one.
A guard’s footsteps came through the door of the cell. James looked on in amusement as Kyra froze, then relaxed as the guard walked away. “There’s more,” he said. “You’d not come to me again simply out of concern for your city. They’ve conscripted someone important to you, haven’t they?”
She didn’t answer, but Kyra guessed that her thoughts were plain on her face. James gave a satisfied nod. “It’s always personal. You can handle the abuse when it happens to others, or at least you don’t care enough to make an extra effort to stop it. But when they take someone you care about, that’s when you’re willing to put yourself on the line.”
It was frightening sometimes how right he could be. First Idalee, then Flick. And each time, Kyra became willing to do just a little bit more. Was this what had happened with James? Kyra thought about Thalia, the mysterious girl whom James had fallen in love with, and who had died at a nobleman’s hand. How much of what James had done was because of her?
“Do you still think about Thalia?” The anonymity of the dungeon made it easier to ask such questions.
For a long moment, he didn’t respond, and Kyra wondered if she’d inadvertently ended the conversation. The only sound in the room was the occasional drip of water somewhere in the darkness.
“Every day,” James finally said. As he spoke, Kyra caught a hint of fatigue in his voice, true exhaustion that for a moment was written all over the lines of his body.
“What would she think of everything you’ve done?”
James lifted his head, his eyes regaining their steely focus. “We’ll never know, will we?”
That answer hung between them, heavy with its implications. There was an entire lost lifetime in those words. Decades in which a woman Kyra had never met might have loved, fought, and grown old. Kyra realized that this was one story she would never know.
Finally James shifted. “I tire of this conversation. Tell me what you came for.”
“You’ve got spies in the Palace,” said Kyra. “I know you do. If I knew more about what Willem was doing, if I could find something against him, I might stop this.”
“If you wanted my help, mayhap you shouldn’t have handed me over to the Palace.”
“We’re not allies, James, but we have a common enemy. I’m offering you another chance to bring Willem down. You said you didn’t give me up to the Palace because you might still get something from me. This could be it. Mayhap I can do something with that information to serve both of us.”
His eyes were shrewd as he considered her offer. “Everything about my spies stays with you. No word of this goes to Malikel or any wallhugger.”
Kyra thought for a moment. “I can do that.”
“Make no mistake, Kyra. You’ll owe me for this. Someday I’ll call in a favor from you, and I’ll hold you to it.”
Kyra stepped back, widening the space between them. “There are some things I won’t do. You know that.”
“I know your limits,” said James. The way he said it made it sound like a weakness. “I won’t push you to break them. But you’ll be indebted to me. I want your word.”
Dealing with James was never straightforward. He was so quick, so deadly most of the time that it was easy to think violence his only weapon. But you couldn’t discount his subtler skills. He understood people, knew how to assess their strengths and manipulate their motivations. On the surface, he was asking for a promise he couldn’t enforce, but Kyra knew better than to make such a vow lightly. She didn’t know his whole game. She never did, but that was a risk she would take.