Keir Read Free Page B

justice.”
    “Rialto.” The Matriarch forced herself to calm. “You cannot do this. The law does not permit execution without proven cause.”
    “His existence is cause enough.”
    “He has committed no crime!”
    Rialto thrust his face to within inches of her own. She held herself steady and matched his gaze though her heart quivered. “He has blighted my life, as well you know, Mother,” he growled. “A curse on me and on Adalucien. I will have it ended!”
    After a moment’s pause, the Matriarch reached out a hand to touch his cheek. “I believe there is a curse on you, my son,” she said with a hint of sadness, gazing into a face she no longer recognized. “I think it has driven you mad.”
    He retreated from her, regaining a semblance of composure. “I will rid the city of its madness,” he said coolly, assuming his soldier’s stance once more. “I will be free of him.”
    The Matriarch shook her head. “There must be a fair trial. The law must be observed, Rialto.”
    “Then I shall bring him to you for trial, Mother. Him and his companion.”
    “Companion?”
    “My men arrested a woman, one asking questions about the Demon. No doubt seeking some unholy alliance. Together they caused the explosion.”
    “Then no doubt they lie buried beneath our feet, Rialto.” The Matriarch sighed. “You said the chamber was destroyed. Surely they have not survived?”
    Sudden doubt etched its way across his haggard face. “I shall have it searched.”
    He saluted and turned, clearly distracted as he left. The Matriarch watched him go, hands still clutching the chair arms as if seeking reassurance from the solidity of the wood.
    “May the Gods have pity on them,” she muttered. “And on you too, my son.”
    * * * *
    When Keir came back to the world, he was warm and sheltered. Heat flowed from the cheering crimson flicker of a camp fire. A deep-blue sky full of evening stars hung overhead. The twin moons were setting beyond a row of trees. He lay on something soft that exuded the fresh scent of resin and greenery, his body draped in a set of heavy robes that smelled faintly stagnant. For the first time in more years than he could remember, he seemed safe and cared for–though neither his pain nor weakness had lessened.
    He eased himself up. Quin had wrapped her dry robes around him and laid him on a pile of leafy branches. Not a single rag had been removed–even those he had stripped off had been neatly rebound around his arms and legs, cloaking his true self from sight. An outcrop of rock lay behind him–three or four larger boulders making up a circle of stones open only to the patch of scrubby woodland that masked the horizon–sheltering them from the sea breezes. He heard the rush and fall of the sea nearby, split by the crackling of the fire. Drifting smoke carried the aroma of something cooking.
    Footsteps heralded Quin’s return as she stepped into the circle of firelight. A startled expression lit her face as she noted Keir awake.
    “How do you feel?” She crouched down, warming her hands on the fire with an air of urgency. With her robes sacrificed for his sake, her basic outfit seemed scant protection from the chilly evening.
    “Grateful,” he managed, and then coughed, his throat dry.
    She immediately stepped around the fire, proffering a small flask she must have summoned up by magic. Keir drank in deep gulps, the cool water soothing his throat. As he passed it back, Quin handed him a fist-sized fruit. Recognizing it, he moved the veil away from his mouth and ate.
    “I couldn’t find much,” she apologized, as he finished. “I didn’t want to go too far with you unconscious. My supplies are back in the city, and it took most of the day to get you here. I wasn’t sure if you were fit to move or even if it was the right thing to do, but I couldn’t leave you on the beach.”
    “You could have.” Keir lay back and stared into the flames, his strength spent. “No one else would have