Shadow's Edge - Brent Weeks [21]
“Well, here I thought you were a helpless—” Kylar said.
“And now you know better,” Elene said, self-satisfied, settling back into her blankets.
“Ain’t that the truth. You’ve got so many defenses, a man would be lucky to get lucky with you once in a thousand years,” Kylar said with a sigh.
Elene gasped and sat up. “Kylar Thaddeus Stern!”
Kylar giggled. “Thaddeus? That’s a good one. I knew a Thaddeus once.”
“So did I. He was a blind idiot.”
“Really?” Kylar said, his eyes dancing. “The one I knew was famous for his gigantic—”
“Kylar!” Elene interrupted, motioning toward Uly.
“His gigantic what?” Uly asked.
“Now you did it,” Elene said. “His gigantic what, Kylar?”
“Feet. And you know what they say about big feet.” He winked lasciviously at Elene.
“What?” Uly asked.
“Big shoes,” Kylar said. He settled back down in his own blankets, as smug as Elene had been moments before.
“I don’t get it,” Uly said. “What’s it mean, Elene?”
Kylar chuckled evilly.
“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Elene said.
“I don’t want to know when I’m older. I want to know now,” Uly said.
Elene didn’t answer her. Instead, she punched Kylar in the arm. He grunted.
“Are you going to wrestle now?” Uly asked. She had climbed out of her blankets and was sitting between them. “Because you always end up kissing. It’s gross.” She scrunched up her face and made wet kissing noises.
“Our little contraceptive,” Kylar said. Much as he loved Uly, Kylar was convinced that she was the only reason that after three wonderful weeks on the trail with the woman he loved, he was still a virgin.
“Will you do that again?” Elene asked Uly, laughing and wisely heading off the what’s-a-contraceptive question.
Uly scrunched her face and made the kissing sounds again, and soon the three of them dissolved in laughter that devolved into a tickle fight.
Afterwards, sides aching from laughing so hard, Kylar listened to the sounds of the girls breathing. Elene had a gift for falling asleep as soon as her head touched a pillow, and Uly wasn’t far behind. Tonight, Kylar’s wakefulness was no curse. He felt his very skin was glowing with love. Elene rolled over and nuzzled on his chest. He inhaled the fresh scent of her hair. He couldn’t remember having felt so good, so accepted, in his entire life. She would drool on him, he knew, but it didn’t matter. Drool was somehow cute when Elene did it.
No wonder Uly got disgusted. He was pathetic. But for the first time in his life, Kylar felt like a good man. He’d always been good at things, good at lock picking, climbing, hiding, fighting, poisoning, disguising himself, and killing. But he’d never felt good until Elene. When she looked at him, the Kylar he saw reflected in her eyes wasn’t repulsive. He wasn’t a murderer; he was the substitute father who had tickle fights with an eleven-year-old; he was the love who told Elene she was beautiful and made her believe it for the first time in her life; he was a man with something to give.
That was the man Elene saw when she looked at him. She believed so many good things about him that Kylar alternated between believing it himself and thinking she was absolutely crazy. But being persuaded felt great.
Tomorrow, they’d reach Caernarvon, and for a time, they would stay with Elene’s Aunt Mea. With her help—she was a midwife who knew herbs—Kylar would set up a little herbiary. Then he would overcome Elene’s fading objections to fornication, and the way of shadows would be behind him forever.
8
After maybe twelve days, maybe fifteen, maybe it only felt like so many, Logan finally surrendered to sleep. In his dream, he heard voices. They were whispering, but in the stone environs of the Hole, every whisper carried.
“He’s got a knife.”
“If we all take him, it doesn’t matter. Look how much meat there is on him!”
“Quiet,” someone said. Logan knew he should move, should check the knife, should wake up, but he was so tired. He couldn’t stay awake forever. It was too hard.
He thought he heard a woman’s voice, screaming through a hand covering her mouth.