Kaldar stared at her. He had no expression on his face.
She leaned forward, rocking on her toes to stand a little closer to his face. "You will break my heart, Kaldar. We both know it. And now, since we have everything out in the open, how about we forget we had this conversation? You go back to your room, and tomorrow, we'll flirt and laugh and act like nothing happened."
He just stood there.
"Fine. You want it the other way, we can do that, too. Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me that's not what you've imagined, and, for once in your life, don't lie."
Kaldar leaned forward, his eyes dark. "I imagined that you might want to have a little bit of fun before you went back to wasting your life. You have the brains, the talent, and the looks, and you use all that to take dirty pictures of adulterers and flirt with insurance cheats. Is that really it, Audrey? Is that who you aspire to be?"
She recoiled.
"You're right," Kaldar said. "When it's over, I will fly off on a wyvern, and you will go back to your dull existence, suppressing everything that makes you you. I may not be married or trustworthy, but what I do matters, and I'm good at it."
"What I do matters, too!"
"To whom? Anyone can do your job, Audrey. Of course, you are the best at it. You have so much talent and experience, you have no competition. You're playing with marked cards at a table full of blind players. Is that it? Are you afraid of competition? Afraid to try to see how good you really are? Because I've never seen better."
"You can leave now."
"Oh, I'm going. Don't worry. Think about what I said, Audrey. You were born to steal, to grift, and to outwit people who need to be stopped. But you insist on withering your soul instead. You say you want honesty. Try being honest with yourself. Why did you break into the Pyramid of Ptah? Why, when I came to you with this possibly fatal proposition to fight the Hand and the Edge barons, did it take you less than ten minutes to take me up on it?"
He turned and walked out of the room.
The door clicked closed.
Audrey flung herself on the bed. It had to be said. Of course it had to be said. If anything, it was a wonder both of them had stayed in the room as long as they had. Most conmen ran when called on it, and neither she nor Kaldar were an exception to that rule. Audrey stared at the door. She wanted it to burst open. She wanted him to charge into the room, grab her, kiss her, and tell her he loved her. It was such a stupid little-girl fantasy, and yet she sat there, desperate, and stared at the door.
She was right. Everything she had said was perfectly valid. Everything he had said was perfectly valid, too. She had known the safest thing would have been to walk away from this adventure the first chance she got. And when she had climbed the mountain slope to Gnome's house, hyper-aware of Kaldar behind her, that possibility had entered her head. But she had stayed. She had stayed because it was right, she had stayed because every twist and every challenge sent the excitement of anticipation through her. She had stayed because she cared what would happen to Gaston, Jack, and George. And she had stayed because being near Kaldar made her dream.
Audrey didn't know what she would do when it was all over. She couldn't go back to the Broken. In a twisted way, all her fears had come true: Kaldar had destroyed her life, and up until tonight, she had blissfully helped him dismantle it brick by brick.
Half an hour later, she knew he wouldn't be coming. She cried quietly until she was too exhausted to sob. Then she washed her face with cold water to keep it from being puffy and red in the morning, turned off the lights, and climbed into her bed.
The night shadows claimed the room. She usually welcomed darkness, but tonight it felt sinister. She lay for a long minute, torn between the fear of darkness and the irrational worry that if she stepped down to turn on the lights, something would grab her ankle.
This was ridiculous.
She got out of bed, turned on the lights, went to the next suite, and knocked on the door. The door swung open, and Gaston grinned at her.
"Can I borrow a knife?"
"A peel-an-apple knife or a serious knife?"
"A serious knife."
He stepped into the room and handed her a long wavy dagger with a silvery blade. "Is anything wrong?"
"No." I'm just afraid to go to sleep by myself. "I just realized that I have no weapon."
Understanding sparked in his eyes. "Have you seen my uncle? I thought he was with you."
"He came by but left a while ago. Thank you for the dagger."
"No problem."
She went back into her room, locked the door, put the dagger on the night table next to the bed, turned off the lights, and lay down. If any of the Hand's freaks decided to hide under her bed, she would turn it into mincemeat.
KALDAR leaned on the rail of a long balcony wrapping the third floor of the hotel. Below him, a landscaped courtyard tried to tempt him with a small pool. Mmm. A swim wouldn't be unwelcome right about now. A paved walkway wound around it and stretched on toward some small river winding its way between green shores. A full moon hung above all of it, like a pale coin in the dark sky. In the moonlight, the river's water glistened like volcanic glass.
Regret filled him, and when he looked at the moon's face, it seemed mournful to him.
He had blown it with Audrey. He said things he should've kept to himself if he entertained any hope of ever being with her. What he had said was the truth, but it would change nothing. When they were done, she would return to her life in the Broken and persist in slowly wasting away. He truly had never seen anyone better, and it brought him nearly physical pain to think she would waste it all. He sighed, hoping to exhale his frustration into the night.
Careful footsteps came from the stairwell. A moment, and Gaston leaned on the rail next to him. "Here you are, Uncle. I was worried."
"I'm touched," Kaldar replied out of habit, but his voice sounded devoid of mirth even to him.
Gaston's eyes caught the moonlight and reflected it in bright silver. He gathered himself, his gaze fixed on the pale disk as if wanting to reach for it. The thoas always had a thing for the moon.
"Does it speak to you?" Kaldar asked.
"No. But there is something about it. It's this beautiful thing you can never reach. No matter what you do, you'll never touch it. You can only look and imagine what it would be like to hold it." Gaston turned and looked at him. "Something's bothering you, Uncle."
"How old was your father when he had you? Twenty-eight?"
"Twenty-nine."
"And you're the youngest of the three."