When they ducked out of the tavern’s back door, the grizzled captain had been waiting, his tiny galley bobbing in the tide at the dock. His eyes looked bleary, and a yawn creased his sun-leathered face as they approached, all still swathed in hoods. If it took him aback, he didn’t show it. Kayu had given him a lot of money.
“Welcome aboard.” A large, blunt hand swept behind him, indicating the galley. “Ship don’t have a name, but mine’s Neils. Don’t wear it out.”
None of them were inclined to. The distant sound of shouts carried on the breeze from the Temple, echoed by the sound of voices rising in the tavern behind them. The six of them filed onto the gangplank, as fast as they could move without running.
“Let’s go,” Eammon said, bringing up the rear.
It was an order, and it was followed. Neils, apparently, was the type who allowed gold to outweigh his questions.
Now Eammon and Red were on the other side of the curtain, murmuring too low for Raffe to make out any words. Lyra was above, talking to Neils, and Fife was with her.
Maybe Kayu was, too. Raffe was trying very hard not to care where Kayu was.
Memories of that brief time in the cloister room kept rearing up in his brain, embers from a fire he couldn’t stamp out. It hadn’t been simple, not at all, but it’d been simpler. He’d at least had the illusion of knowing who she was, though it’d been thin.
Disappointment tasted bitter, disappointment and shame. He should’ve known there was something wrong. Looking back, he couldn’t believe he’d ever taken Kayu at her word, that he’d ever trusted her with something so huge as Neve’s absence. Yes, he hadn’t had much of a choice after she found that letter—which was the entire purpose of the letter, he knew now—but what kind of absolution was that, falling perfectly into the trap she’d set? The Order had written a script, and he’d acted his part impeccably.
She’d planted the idea that they needed to speak to Kiri, that they needed to go to the Rylt. And though they’d gotten valuable information, it still stood that the entire purpose of this trip had been, at its heart, to kill Red.
Yes, Kayu had saved her in the end. And yes, she’d felt like she had no choice but to dance to Kiri’s tune. But all Raffe could think of was what Neve would say if the plan had worked and Red had died.
If the worst had happened, Neve would’ve never, ever forgiven him. He would’ve never forgiven himself. Though Kiri would’ve held the knife, the fault would lay on Raffe, and even though it hadn’t happened, he could still feel what it would’ve been like if it had—a possibility that lay right beside him, barely a breath away, so close he could feel its phantom echoes.
And still, he’d spoken up for Kayu at the tavern.
He couldn’t square it with himself, couldn’t make the ends match up. So he didn’t try. He rested his head against the wall, and he thought of nothing.
“Raffe?”
Shit.
Kayu had taken off her cloak but was still dressed in clothes similar to the ones she’d worn on their first voyage—loose pants, loose shirt, hair tied back in a colorful scarf. For a brief moment, he wondered what she looked like in Order white, then thrust the thought violently away.
Her lips were chapped. Shadows still purpled the skin beneath her eyes. She shifted back and forth from foot to foot, like she was torn between staying and running.
“I know sorry is a weak thing to say,” she murmured finally, looking down at where she worked the hem of her shirt nervously between her thumbnails. “And I know telling you I had no choice is cowardly, even though it’s true. Or felt true.” She shrugged. “You always have a choice, I guess. But when it’s death for you or death for someone you don’t know, it seems so simple.”
“When did it stop seeming simple?” His voice was hoarse.
She gave a weak snort. “Pretty much as soon as I arrived in Valleyda. Seeing you… how much you cared for Neve, how much you wanted her back… that made me care for her, in a way. Anyone you cared about that deeply must be someone good.”
Raffe thought of bloody branches and shadowed veins and dead queens. He didn’t respond. But he did scoot over a little, an invitation.
Kayu took it, sitting next to him. “And then I actually met Red, and I started to care about her, too,” she said, not breaking the rhythm of her explanation. A sigh slumped her shoulders. “I never had any intention of letting her be killed, not after we went to the Edge and saw those carvings, not after I got a chance to know her and Eammon. But I didn’t know how to stop the things already set in motion. That’s all I did the entire time we were sailing here, the entire time in the Rylt—tried to find a way to get all of us out of there alive.”