Week Twenty Six: Use objects instead of showing them

Kaira crept forward, her fingers quietly working a dagger from its sheath and into her hand. In the star-lit dark ahead, she could see the Lieutenant fumbling with his breeches. Kaira waited, stock still. The persistent patter of urine hitting dried leaves was her signal. Too easy. She glided the rest of the way to him, then took his long hair in one fist and pressed the dagger to his neck.

            The urine ceased. The Lieutenant drew breath and swallowed.

            “Hi,” Kaira whispered. “Remember me?”

            “Godwin’s balls, woman,” the Lieutenant muttered, not quietly. “Stick me and be done with it, then.”

            “But I’ve already made you bleed,” Kaira responded. “What I want now are answers. And softly, you idiot, or I’ll have both.”

            She felt the Lieutenant smile. “Alright then. What is it?”

            Kaira realized now that she’d thought only of getting him here, not of what she would ask him once she did. She hesitated.

            “Oh, girl, you’re far beyond your depth now. If you put the blade away I’ll give you a night’s start beyond I and my men—”

            “You and your men,” Kaira cut him off. “You’re here, carousing, when you must know very well that my companions and I broke out of your prison.”

            “Well, not all of them,” the Lieutenant said, smirking.

            Kaira gripped his hair tighter pressed the blade against his neck until he gasped.

            “Don’t do that. It won’t end well for you.”

            The Lieutenant said nothing. Kaira thought she had drawn blood, but it was difficult to tell how much. Irrelevant, anyway.

            “Tell me why you are here and not out looking for us. Did the Commander send you away for failures?”

            “If he had,” the Lieutenant answered, his breath ragged now, “we’d be awaiting the executioner’s blade, wouldn’t we?”

            “You’ve struck the heart of my confusion exactly. Well done, you. Now answer my fecking question.”

            “If you haven’t surmised the answer yet, then you’re even less clever than we credited you.”

            Kaira’s mind reeled. After months of relentless pursuit, no one was hunting them. What was different now? Either they had what they needed, which Kaira knew they didn’t, or—

            “You wanted us to escape.”

            “I didn’t. Not me personally. Had my druthers I’d have killed you all. But this one came from the top.”

            “The Commander. But—”

            “No,” the Lieutenant said. “The top.”

            The Arch Magus of the Arcane Order? Kyra’s mind reeled again. If they’d caught his attention... No. Not “they.”

            “Darren,” Kaira said, realizing.

            “Aye, they want the boy.”

            “You are never going to find him—” Kyra started.

            “No? He and your traitor are not skulking back to the keep right this moment?”

            Kyra said nothing. Feck. Feck. Feck.

            “I’d wager they’re relieved to find that I and my men are elsewhere, likely out searching for them. Certainly now would be the opportune time to strike, would it not?”

            Again, Kaira said nothing.

            “Like I said, not my call. My way would have been much cleaner. A more dignified way to die. But we don’t always get what we want, do we, Princess?”

            Slitting his throat would accomplish nothing, but Kaira did it anyway. It was too late for anything else.