Traitor's Blade

‘Tailor – how—?’ I choked on the words before I could get them out.

 

‘Shush,’ she replied, her eyes still on the girls.

 

After a moment Aline took Valiana’s right hand and placed it against her cheek. Somehow I knew she was going to do that … I knew because—

 

‘No,’ the Tailor said to me, ‘not yet. You’re not ready to understand.’ Then she made the tiniest gesture with her hand, like someone pulling a needle through cloth, and the question was gone.

 

‘Is that all right?’ Valiana asked. ‘Is that an oath? Did I say it right?’

 

The Tailor looked at me now. ‘Well, Falcio, do you reckon she said it right?’

 

‘It’s my oath,’ I said. ‘It’s the same oath I made to the King. And you said it just right.’

 

‘So is that it, then?’ Kest asked quietly. ‘Are coats and oaths the only things we have left?’ A look passed between him and the Tailor and she walked up and took his hand.

 

‘You know the answer already, don’t you, boy?’ she asked, tapping a finger on his forehead.

 

Kest nodded.

 

‘And you know who’s comin’, don’t you?’ she asked, more gently this time.

 

‘I do.’

 

‘So you’ve been trainin’ and practisin’, and now you reckon yourself the best in the world, don’t you?’

 

‘I have. I am.’

 

‘And you know it ain’t enough, right?’

 

I thought I saw the hint of a tear in his eye when I heard him say, ‘I know.’

 

She patted him on the arm. ‘I’ll say this for you: you’ve tried hard and you’ve learned a lot. But you have too much here,’ she tapped him on the forehead, ‘and too much here,’ she patted his arms, ‘and not enough here.’ She put the tip of her finger on his chest. ‘And now your time is comin’ and you ain’t ready.’

 

‘How long?’ Kest asked.

 

‘How long is the thread in my hand?’ she asked.

 

‘I don’t know,’ he replied.

 

The Tailor said, ‘Tonight. It’s going to be tonight.’

 

‘I don’t understand,’ I said to her. ‘I don’t understand any of it any more.’

 

‘You ain’t supposed to,’ she said irritably. ‘Damned Magisters: you always want to know what to do or where to hide or who to kill. This ain’t that any more. There ain’t much time left, and what there is ain’t for judgin’ or ridin’ or fightin’. It’s for livin’, for as long as you have left.’

 

She walked stiffly over to the door and opened it. She clucked at Monster, waiting outside, and the Fey Horse opened her mouth and growled.

 

The Tailor ignored the warning and put her hands on the side of the scarred creature’s face. ‘You’ll come with me now, Horse. I’ve got a job for you. You can’t help them right now, much as you might want to. We’re sisters, you and I,’ she said absently, ‘old and broken and scarred and angry. They’ve taken it all away from us.’

 

She turned back to the rest of us. ‘They’ve taken it all,’ she said. ‘They’ve taken every last good thing in the world.’

 

Then she swung the door wide. ‘Now go and show them your answer.’

 

 

 

 

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