Kylar clenched his jaw. "I-look, there's a killer here."

Elene seemed about to comment about Kylar avoiding her question, then her look darkened as the joy leached out of it. "Two," she said quietly.

"What?"

"Two killers."

She meant him. Kylar nodded, again feeling a lump in his throat, and suddenly he was ashamed of what he was. "Yes, two. I saw Hu coming in, Elene. Is the Globe safe?"

He was watching her eyes. As expected, they darted to where she'd hidden it: the bottom of her closet.

"Yes," she said. "It's..." her voice died. "You're going to steal it."

"I'm sorry," Kylar said.

"And now you know where I hid it. You set me up."

She was naive, but she wasn't stupid. "Yes."

Anger built in her brown eyes. "Is there even an a.s.sa.s.sin, or was it all a lie?"

"There is one. I give you my word," Kylar said, looking away.

"For all that's worth."

Ouch. "I am sorry, Elene, but I have to."

"Why?"

"It's hard to explain," he said.

"I spent all day being embarra.s.sed about everything I'd ever written to you. I spent all day feeling terrible how much you'd given for me. I didn't even tell the guards you were coming because I thought-I thought... You're a real piece of work, Kylar, Kylar," she said. "I guess Azoth really did die."

Not like this. Not like this.

"I really do have to take it," he said.

"I can't let you do that," she said.

"Elene, if you stay here, they'll think you helped me. If Hu doesn't kill you, the Jadwins might. They could throw you in the Maw. Elene, come with me. I couldn't live with myself if they did that."

"You'll manage. Just take a new name. Throw money at whatever makes you feel guilty."

"They'll kill you!"

"I won't repay good with evil."

He was running out of time. He had to get out of here.

Kylar exhaled. So everything was going to go the worst possible way tonight. "Then I'm sorry for this," he said, "but it's to save you."

"What is?" she asked.

Kylar punched her, twice. Once in the mouth, hard enough to draw blood. And once in her beautiful, piercing eyes, hard enough that they would blacken and swell shut, so they wouldn't see what he did. As she staggered backward, he spun her around and clamped her in a chokehold. She flailed vainly against his grip, doubtless thinking he was killing her. But he merely held her and jabbed a needle in her neck. In seconds, she was unconscious.

She'll never forgive me for this. I'll never forgive me for this. Kylar laid her on the floor and pulled out a knife. He cut his hand and dripped blood onto Elene's face to make it look like she'd been beaten. It was gross, and the contrast of her beauty with the ugliness of what he was doing made him uncharacteristically squeamish, but it had to be done. She had to look like a victim. Looking at her there, unconscious, was like eating his own little slice of the bitter business. The bitterness of the business was the truth of the business. Even here, when he hadn't killed, when he didn't have to bathe in the all-permeating odors of death, Kylar had closed the eyes that saw the truth of him, blackened the eyes of light that illuminated the darkness in him, had bloodied and blinded the eyes that pierced him. Kylar laid her on the floor and pulled out a knife. He cut his hand and dripped blood onto Elene's face to make it look like she'd been beaten. It was gross, and the contrast of her beauty with the ugliness of what he was doing made him uncharacteristically squeamish, but it had to be done. She had to look like a victim. Looking at her there, unconscious, was like eating his own little slice of the bitter business. The bitterness of the business was the truth of the business. Even here, when he hadn't killed, when he didn't have to bathe in the all-permeating odors of death, Kylar had closed the eyes that saw the truth of him, blackened the eyes of light that illuminated the darkness in him, had bloodied and blinded the eyes that pierced him. Who says there are no poets in the bitter business? Who says there are no poets in the bitter business?

Finished, Kylar arranged Elene's limbs in a suitably graceless pattern.

The silver ka'kari was tucked in a slipper in the bottom of the closet. Kylar held it up to examine it in the moonlight. It was a plain, metallic sphere, utterly featureless. In truth, it was a little disappointing. Despite the metallic sheen, it was translucent, which was novel. Kylar had never seen anything like that, but he'd been hoping the ka'kari would do something spectacular. sphere, utterly featureless. In truth, it was a little disappointing. Despite the metallic sheen, it was translucent, which was novel. Kylar had never seen anything like that, but he'd been hoping the ka'kari would do something spectacular.

He tucked the ball into a pouch and moved to the door. So far, so good. Well, actually, so far tonight had been pretty much an unmitigated disaster. But getting out should be relatively easy. If he couldn't sneak past the guard at the bottom of the servants' stairs, he could walk right up to the man and pretend that he'd been looking for the toilet and had needed to go so badly that he'd gone for the first available one. The guard would give him a warning that the upstairs was off limits, Kylar would say they should have guards at the bottom of the steps if they didn't want anyone to go up them, the guard would be chagrined, and Kylar would go home. Not foolproof, but then, tonight Kylar would have distrusted anything that was foolproof.

Looking through the keyhole, he watched the hallway and listened closely for thirty seconds. There was nothing out there.

The moment he cracked the door, someone kicked the other side with more than mortal strength. The door blew into him, hitting his face first, then his shoulder. It launched him back into the room.

He almost kept his feet, but as he flew back, he tripped over Elene's unconscious body and went down hard. He slid across the stone floor until his head collided with the wall.

Barely holding onto consciousness, black spots exploding in front of his eyes, Kylar must have drawn the pair of daggers on pure instinct because his hands protested in pain as the daggers were knocked out of them.

"Boy?"

Kylar had to blink several times before he could see again. When his vision cleared, the first thing he saw was the knifepoint an inch from his eye. He followed that up the gray-clad arm and hooded body.

Woozy, Kylar wondered why he wasn't dead. But even before Hu pulled back his hood, Kylar knew.

Momma K had betrayed them. She'd sent him to kill the wrong man.

"Master Blint?" he asked.

41

What are you doing!" Master Blint backhanded Kylar soundly. He stood, furious, the illusory features of Hu Gibbet melting away like smoke.

Kylar staggered to his feet, his head still spinning and his ears ringing. "I had to-you were gone-"

"Gone planning this!" Blint whispered hoa.r.s.ely. "Gone planning this! Never mind now. We've got three minutes until the guard's next round." He nudged Elene's limp form with a toe.

"That one's still alive," Durzo Blint said. "Kill her. Then go find the ka'kari while I fix the deader. We'll discuss your punishment later."

I'm too late. "You killed the d.u.c.h.ess?" Kylar asked, rubbing his shoulder where the door had hit him when Durzo burst in. "You killed the d.u.c.h.ess?" Kylar asked, rubbing his shoulder where the door had hit him when Durzo burst in.

"The deader was the prince. Someone else got there first." Boots were clomping up the steps. Durzo unsheathed Retribution and checked the hallway.

G.o.ds, the prince? Kylar looked at the unconscious girl. Her innocence was irrelevant. Even if he didn't kill her, they'd think she helped steal the ka'kari and kill the prince. Kylar looked at the unconscious girl. Her innocence was irrelevant. Even if he didn't kill her, they'd think she helped steal the ka'kari and kill the prince.

"Kylar!"

Kylar looked up, dazed. It was all like a bad dream. It couldn't be happening. "I already..." He held out the pouch limply.

Scowling, Durzo s.n.a.t.c.hed it away from him and turned it over. The Globe of Edges fell into his hand. "d.a.m.n. Just what I thought," he said.

"What?" Kylar asked.

But Durzo wasn't in any mood to answer questions. "Did the girl see your face?"

Kylar's silence was enough.

"Take care of it. Kylar, that's not a request. It's an order. Kill her."

Thick white scars crisscrossed what had once been a beautiful face. Her eyes were swelling, blackening-and that was as much Kylar's fault as the ten-year-old scars were.

"Love is a noose," Blint had told him when he began his apprenticeship a decade ago.

"No," Kylar said.

Durzo looked back. "What did you say?" Black blood dribbled down Retribution, pooling on the floor.

There was still time to stop. Time to obey, and live. But if he let Elene die, Kylar would be lost in shadow forever.

"I won't kill her. And I won't let you. I'm sorry, master."

"Do you have any idea what that means?" Durzo snapped. "Who is this girl that she's worth being hunted for the rest of your short-" he stopped. "She's Doll Girl."

"Yes, master. I'm sorry."

"By the Night Angels! I don't want apologies! I want obedien-" Durzo held up a finger for silence. The footfalls were close now. Durzo threw open the door and blurred into the hall, inhumanly fast, Retribution flashing silver in the low light.

The guard fell in two thumps. It was Stumpy, the older guard who'd frisked Kylar so gingerly when he'd cased the estate this morning.

The hall lantern behind Durzo swaddled darkness's favorite child in shadow, casting his form over Kylar and making his face invisible. Silhouetted, black blood dripped from the tip of Retribution. Drip, drip. Durzo's voice strained like bending steel. "Kylar, this is your last chance."

"Yes," Kylar said, his b.o.l.l.o.c.k dagger hissing against its scabbard as he turned to face the man who'd raised him, who'd been more than a father to him. "It is."

There was the sound of something metallic rolling across marble. It came toward Kylar. He raised a hand and felt the ka'kari slap into his outstretched palm.

He turned his hand over and saw the ka'kari burning a brilliant, incandescent blue. It was stuck to his palm. As he looked, runes began burning on the surface of the globe. They shifted, changed, as if trying to speak to him. Blue light bathed his face and he could see through the ka'kari. It was sucking blood from the cut on his palm. He looked up and saw dismay on Master Blint's face.

"No! No, it's mine!" Blint yelled.

The ka'kari pooled like black oil in an instant.

Blue light exploded like a supernova. Then the pain came. The cold in Kylar's hand became pressure. It felt like his hand was splitting apart. Staring at the now uniformly burning puddle in his hand with horror, Kylar saw that it was shrinking. It was pushing itself into into his hand. Kylar felt the ka'kari enter his blood. Every vein bulged and contorted, freezing as the ka'kari pa.s.sed through him. his hand. Kylar felt the ka'kari enter his blood. Every vein bulged and contorted, freezing as the ka'kari pa.s.sed through him.

He didn't know how long it lasted. He sweated and shivered and sweated coldly. Gradually the cold faded from his limbs. More gradually still, warmth replaced it. Perhaps seconds, perhaps half an hour later, Kylar found himself on the floor.

Oddly, he felt good. Even face down on stone, he felt good. Complete. Like a gap had been bridged, a hole had been filled. I'm a ka'karifer. I was born for this. I'm a ka'karifer. I was born for this.

Then he remembered. He looked up. From the look of frozen horror on Durzo's face, it all must have taken only seconds. Kylar jumped to his feet, feeling stronger, healthier, more full of energy than he could ever remember.

The look on Durzo's face wasn't anger. It was grief. Bereavement.

Kylar slowly turned his hand over. The skin was still cut on his palm, but it wasn't bleeding anymore. The ka'kari had seemed to push into- No. It couldn't have. It couldn't have.

From every pore in his hand, black poured out like sweat. It congealed. In a moment, the ka'kari rested in his palm.

A strange glee filled Kylar. Fear followed. He wasn't sure the glee was all his own. It was as if the ka'kari were happy to have found him. He looked back to Durzo, feeling stupid, so far out of his depth he didn't know how to act.

It was then he realized how clearly he could see Durzo's face. The man still stood in the hallway, the lantern behind him. A moment before-before the ka'kari-his face had been all but invisible. Kylar could still see the shadows falling on the floor where Durzo blocked the light, but he could see through through them. It was like looking through gla.s.s. You could tell the gla.s.s was there, but it didn't impede your vision. Kylar glanced around Elene's little room and saw that the same applied to everything he looked at. The darkness welcomed his eyes now. His eyes were sharper, clearer-he could see further, could see the castle across the river as if it were high noon. them. It was like looking through gla.s.s. You could tell the gla.s.s was there, but it didn't impede your vision. Kylar glanced around Elene's little room and saw that the same applied to everything he looked at. The darkness welcomed his eyes now. His eyes were sharper, clearer-he could see further, could see the castle across the river as if it were high noon.

"I have to have the ka'kari," Durzo said. "If he doesn't get it, he'll kill my daughter. Night Angels have mercy, Kylar, what have you done?"

"I didn't! I didn't do anything!" Kylar said. He held the ka'kari out. "Take it. You can have it. Get your daughter back."

Durzo took it from him. He stared into Kylar's eyes, his voice sorrowful, "You bonded it. It bonds for life, Kylar. Your Talent will work now, whether you're holding it or not, but its other powers won't work for anyone else until you're dead."

There was sound of feet running up the steps. Someone must have heard Durzo's yell. Kylar had to go now. The import of Durzo's words was barely beginning to register.

Durzo turned to face whoever was coming up the steps, and the prophet's words echoed in Kylar's ears: "If you don't kill Durzo Blint tomorrow, Khalidor will take Cenaria. If you don't kill him by the day after that, everyone you love will die. If you do the right thing once, it will cost you years of guilt. If you do the right thing twice, it will cost you your life." words echoed in Kylar's ears: "If you don't kill Durzo Blint tomorrow, Khalidor will take Cenaria. If you don't kill him by the day after that, everyone you love will die. If you do the right thing once, it will cost you years of guilt. If you do the right thing twice, it will cost you your life."

The b.o.l.l.o.c.k dagger was in his hand. Durzo's back was turned. Kylar could end it now. Not even Durzo's reflexes could stop him when Kylar was this close. It would mean stopping an invasion, saving everyone he loved-surely that meant he held Elene's life in his hands right now. Logan's. Maybe the Drakes'. Maybe the whole invasion hinged on this. Maybe hundreds or thousands of lives were balanced now on the point of his dagger. A quick, painless cut, and Durzo would die. Hadn't he said that life was empty, worthless, meaningless, cheap? He wouldn't be losing anything of value when he lost his life, he'd sworn that.

Durzo had said it, and more, but Kylar had never really believed him. Momma K had already stabbed Durzo in the back with her lies; Kylar couldn't do it with his hands.

The moment took on a startling clarity. It froze like a diamond and rotated before his eyes, every facet gleaming, futures shearing off and sparkling. Kylar looked from Elene on his right hand to Durzo on his left, from Durzo to Elene, Elene to Durzo. There was his choice, and their futures. He could kill Elene, the woman he loved, or he could kill Durzo, who had raised him as his son. In every facet, this truth glared pitilessly: If one lived, the other must die.

"No," Kylar said. "Master, do it. Kill me."

Durzo looked at him as if he couldn't believe his ears.

"She's only seen me. She won't be a threat to anyone if I'm dead. You can take the ka'kari and save your daughter."

Blint's eyes filled with a look Kylar had never seen before. The hard, jagged cast of his master's face seemed to ease and it made him seem a different man, not old and tired and worn, but younger, a man more like Kylar than Kylar had ever imagined Blint could look. Durzo blinked as bottomless wells of grief threatened to spill over in tears. He shook his head. "Just go, son."

Kylar wanted to go. He wanted to run away, but he was right. It was the only way. He stood there, frozen, but not with indecision. He was just praying that Durzo would act before he lost his courage. What am I saying? I don't want to die. I want to live. I want to take Elene out of here. I want to- What am I saying? I don't want to die. I want to live. I want to take Elene out of here. I want to- The door to the duke's chambers opened and the blood-spattered d.u.c.h.ess stumbled out, screaming, "a.s.sa.s.sin! a.s.sa.s.sin! He's killed the prince!"

Durzo acted instantly. He slammed into Kylar, driving them both into Elene's room. It took all of Kylar's presence of mind to not trample Elene, but Durzo was still moving. He had a hold of Kylar's cloak and was swinging him with the surprising speed and force of his Talent. Kylar exploded through the window and out into the night. but Durzo was still moving. He had a hold of Kylar's cloak and was swinging him with the surprising speed and force of his Talent. Kylar exploded through the window and out into the night.

By the grace of the G.o.d, or His cruelty, or sheer dumb luck, or Durzo's preternatural skills, Kylar landed squarely in the center of a hedge. He crashed through it, rolling out of control, and popped out onto the ground. It was ridiculous; nothing was broken, nothing was sprained, he didn't even get scratched. He looked up and saw guests craning their heads on the balcony where so recently he'd kissed Serah, but they were on the other side of lamps and couldn't make him out.