Alensar

  Alensar rested his shins against the warm bulk of his brother.

  His brother. Darion was alive.

  Thank Nekthor. Thank Helion. Thank the heathen gods across the Wall.

  Alensar's mind kept floating words to say, and then they sank.

  His ribs felt strange. A faint buzzing beneath his skin kept catching his mind. He wanted to touch his chest, but his arms were too heavy.

  His brother was alive.

  Darion rested his hand on Alensar's knee. "I love you."

  Alensar swallowed. "Am I dying more than I thought I was?"

  Darion snorted. Alensar opened his eyes halfway—when had he closed them? Darion had an annoyed scowl, and Alensar relented. "I love you too."

  Jason

  Jason came back into the room. Alensar was lying with his eyes closed, and Darion was still sitting on the couch watching him.

  Darion looked up. "He needs some rest."

  "We need a plan first."

  Alensar stirred. "I could just get drugged up enough that I can walk through the pain."

  "That is the worst possible plan you could have come up with." Darion rolled his eyes.

  "We could rent a carriage." Jason stood closer, but there was nowhere else to sit.

  "Ignoring the expense, a carriage would be too conspicuous in this part of town," Darion countered. "What about a cart?"

  "The opposite problem," said Jason. "That's conspicuous in the rich quarter. They might not let us in."

  "How about just horses?" Alensar said.

  "I don't know how to ride," Jason admitted.

  "We'll have to fix that, but not today." Alensar relaxed back into the couch. "We could wait until tomorrow. I'll feel better, and Uncle Andrei won't mind letting us stay."

  They looked at Mr. Andrei, who was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. He gave a weary nod.

  Jason wanted to save him the trouble if he could. "Laude Granthor is likely angry. It would be better to go today. Though I could go to her and let her know what happened."

  "You look like you would rather be bitten by a snake." Darion raised a brow.

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  Jason scoffed. "Depends on the type of snake."

  "If I'm drugged up, we can pass me off as drunk, and it gives Darion a reason to be helping…And you won't have to face Laude Granthor alone." Alensar said. The worst possible plan sounded better and better.

  "You'll need something other than bloody clothes."

  Mr. Andrei walked over to a chest and pulled out a blanket. "You and Darion can figure out the details. No matter what, even if you go with this plan, Tsarek needs some rest."

  No arguing with that.

  "I need some breakfast. We can come back in a few hours." Darion stood and took the blanket from Mr. Andrei. He draped it on Alensar.

  Alensar closed his eyes and pulled the blanket closer.

  "You should trust each other." He said, voice thick with oncoming sleep.

  "Rest well." Darion looked for a long moment and nodded. They said their goodbyes to Mr. Andrei, and Jason followed behind Darion through the shop onto the street.

  "I need to pick up my things in the hole in the ground where I'm staying." Darion glanced back over at the door. "And I think I want an explanation more than Wuj does."

  Darion started walking toward the deeper parts of the city that Jason didn't go to. Jason took a deep breath and followed.

  Darion

  Darion didn't understand Jason. He initially attributed Jason's apparent discomfort to the fact that he was Karangasz, but he seemed fine enough with Uncle Andrei and Tsarek.

  And Tsarek was alive. His brother was alive. One less person to grieve.

  He didn't want to leave, but Uj Andrei was right, Tsarek needed to rest. It would only be a few hours at most. He would be fine. His injuries weren't that bad; he was just weak. He would be fine.

  He looked at the man inexplicably entangled in all of this.

  "You might want to get rid of that fancy servant's jacket."

  Jason looked down at it. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

  "People will notice."

  Jason didn't take it off.

  "What? You don't trust me?" Darion was tiring of Jason's obvious dislike and fear.

  "I'm not my mother, you know," Jason said, looking to the side.

  "Then what?" Darion looked down at him.

  Jason looked at his hands, his shoulders folding together. His voice was barely audible. "I'm…after what happened today. I just…I don't want to wear just a shirt. You know? It's not any kind of protection, but…"

  Well, shit. Why had he assumed Jason's mood had anything to do with him?

  Darion was normally good at saying the right thing in situations like this, but his mind supplied nothing.

  "I know that must seem pathetic to you." Jason crossed his arms and gripped the cloth of his jacket.

  "So you aren't afraid of me?"

  Jason froze. Darion only realized his words sounded like a threat after they left his mouth. Idiot.

  Jason looked everywhere but at him. "What's the worst that you would do? Alensar said to trust you."

  Darion defaulted to his easy smile, though his heart fell. "Ah, I wouldn't hurt you. Don't worry. I'll protect you."

  Jason shifted his weight. "I should take it off. I shouldn't be so pathetic."

  The last sentence seemed like he was speaking more to himself.

  Darion took off his jacket. "Wear mine. It's armored."

  "No, I'll look ridiculous wearing that."

  Darion raised a brow. "Why?"

  Why was Jason being so frustrating?

  "It's way too big. I'll look like a child." Jason still took off his servant's jacket and tucked it under his arm. He shivered.

  Darion draped his coat over Jason's shoulders anyway. "People wear wrong size clothes in this part of town all the time."

  Jason relented. "Thank you."

  They walked deeper into the city.

  "I've never seen anyone die in a fight before. Or had a knife pulled on me. I've been beaten up plenty of times, but this was different."

  "I threw up the first time I saw someone die," Darion said with false casualness. He wanted to ask about why Jason had been beaten up, but he didn't have the courage.

  "I keep thinking about it–it just plays over and over in my mind. And I was so useless, too."

  "I can teach you to fight," Darion said, hoping to ease the burden.

  Jason laughed, but it didn't reach his eyes. "My father and brother both tried and decided I was hopeless. They were both soldiers. And I'm not exactly built like a fighter."

  Darion snorted. "That's because they were teaching you Anglish fighting, not Karangasz. And you can overcome size if you are smart."

  He slung his arm over Jason's shoulders. "I'm the best fighter in the city. I bet I can teach you a thing or two."

  He kept his arm there for a moment longer than was necessary, just to mess with him a little.