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WILLIAM left for Kasis the next morning, Gaston with him. Declan decided to come at the last minute. It felt off, William reflected. Almost as if they were back in the Legion.
Before they left, Jack came by his room. He looked younger somehow, timid and dejected. "Are you coming back?"
William nodded. "Eventually."
"Okay, then." Jack opened his mouth to say something and closed it.
"How's it going?" William asked.
Jack looked at his feet. "I don't want to go to Hawk's."
Fury flashed through William. "Are they talking about sending you there?"
Jack shook his head. "No. Just . . . I can't do anything right. It's always Jack, Jack, Jack. Jack ruined that and Jack broke this. I'm trying, but it's not working."
"You won't have to go to Hawk's," William said. "If it comes to that, I'll take you with me."
Jack froze. "Promise."
"I promise."
"Don't take too long to come back."
"I won't." William reached over to the table, to a basket of snacks someone left in his room, plucked out a square of chocolate wrapped in foil, and handed it to Jack.
"A smart kid once told me it helps," he said. "Wait for me and don't do anything stupid."
FIVE days later William stood on the balcony of Kasis Castle and looked over the vast field of cypresses dripping silvery moss. Just two miles south, the boundary offered passage to the Mire.
The attack on Kasis had taken less than an hour. Four of the Hand's agents were killed in the Keep, and Erwin's people found enough damaging papers to keep them happy for months. Nobody in their right mind could claim that de Kasis was neutral.
Antoine de Kasis died resisting apprehension. He didn't resist very much, William reflected. He'd been pissed off and hurting, and de Kasis died under his knife before offering any real resistance.
Two hours later William traded the deed to Kasis for the copy of the journal. The journal was missing a couple of crucial pages, but his memory wasn't that perfect and most of the research was there and Nancy was pleased. If she suspected he held anything back, she didn't let it show.
While William exchanged the journal for the deed, Erwin briefed Gustave and escorted him back home, with a detachment of the Mirror's agents to keep the Mars safe during their evacuation. It was better this way, William reflected. He wasn't sure what the man would think of him.
Three days had passed now with no word from Cerise. She was only a day away in the Mire. He'd done everything he could. She couldn't be with him because of the threat to her family. He had taken care of it. William grimaced. He'd thought about going back to the Rathole, but decided against it. He knew the way she thought. If he showed up, after saving her father and her family, she would have to be with him whether she liked it or not. So he sat here, alone, and waited. Waited for her to decide if she wanted him or if she didn't.
SHE came to him in his dreams. Her face was smudged, but he knew it was her, because he could smell her scent and hear her voice, soothing, calling his name. When he awoke, the wild inside him snarled and howled, abandoned, hurting, and so alone he wondered if he would go mad. So every morning he came to the damn balcony and stared at the Mire. It wasn't up to him anymore. All he could do was wait.
CERISE raised her face from her arms. Outside night had fallen on the Mire. Familiar quick steps ran up the stairs leading to her hideout.
"Can I come in?" her father asked from the stairway.
She nodded.
He came and sat in a chair across from her. He was thinner than she remembered. Older. He'd been home for almost two weeks now, and she still woke up convinced that he was missing.
"The packing is almost done," he said. "We're leaving the Mire the day after tomorrow."
She looked away. She'd packed nothing.
"Do you need help with your things?" he asked.
"I'm not going."
Gustave frowned, wrinkles gathering on his forehead. "So you plan to abandon all of us? Grandma, your cousins, me. Sophie."
Cerise glanced at the soft chair, where Lark curled up, asleep.
She didn't have an answer, so she just looked away.
"Tell me about it," he said.
She shook her head. "No."
"Do you think I wouldn't understand?" he asked softly. "They took your mother away from me. Ripped her out of my hands. That was the last time I saw her, terrified, dragged away. I know what it feels like, Ceri. I do."
She swallowed. "He didn't come for me. I love him. I thought he loved me, but he didn't come for me."
"Maybe you should go to him," he said gently. "He might be waiting."
She shook her head. "I talked to the Mirror's people. He lied to me again, Papa. He told me he had nothing, but apparently he's rich. He's related to the Marshal of the Southern Provinces. It's a big deal, from what they say. He told me he was a bounty hunter, that he was normal, that he had nothing, and I believed him. Why is it I always believe him? Am I stupid?"
"Men lie for many reasons," Gustave said. "Perhaps he wanted to make sure that you love him for who he is, not for his money."
"He told me he loved me, too. How do I know it's not another lie?"
Gustave sighed. "The man came to get me out of Kasis. He didn't owe that to us, Ceri. He came for me because I'm your father."
She shook her head. "He knows where the house is. It would take him a day to get down here. If he wanted to, he would be here already. He's changed his mind, Papa. He decided he doesn't want me, and I'm not going to beg. I won't be showing up on his doorstep in all of my Mire glory, asking him to come and lift me from the mud. I have some damn pride left."
Gustave sighed. "I want you to start packing tomorrow."
She didn't answer. What was the point of talking anyway?
He sighed again and left. Cerise waited until he closed the door and then cried quietly, curled up in her chair.
ANOTHER gray day. The view from the balcony looked much the same.
William shook his head. She wasn't coming. He had to clench his teeth and move on.
Steps echoed behind him. One of Declan's deputy marshals, on loan until William could get his own people sorted out. He had no idea how to do that.
"M'lord, Gustave Mar is here."
Great. "Show him in, please."
A few moments later Gustave joined him on the balcony. Lean, dark. Like Cerise. Same eyes, same posture.
Gustave bowed.
"Don't," William told him. "Here." He pulled a chair from the small picnic table and sat in the other chair himself. "What can I do for you?"