Daughter of Dusk (42 page)

“You have siblings?” asked Kyra.

“Yes.” Darylene’s eyes softened when she spoke of them. “Ava is ten and Derek is eight. We’re very close, since my ma and pa passed.”

Kyra thought of Idalee and Lettie. “They’re lucky to have you.” And she found that she meant it.

Darylene smiled then and looked down at her tea. “It’s…hard for us to stay in the city after all that has happened. I think I need to take my family and leave, at least for a
while. James said you could help me with supplies, coin, and arrangements.”

At first, Kyra thought she’d misheard what Darylene had said. “James?” Kyra asked. “The Head of the Assassins Guild?”

Darylene nodded. “When he escaped from prison, he came to speak with me. He’d somehow found out that I had proof of Willem’s misdeeds. He said…that if I ever decided to
turn Willem in, I could ask you for help getting back on my feet.”

Kyra stared at Darylene, unable to respond.

Someday I’ll call in a favor from you, and I’ll hold you to it.

So he’d decided that Kyra was the best person to help Darylene. Kyra supposed he was right. Compared to Bacchus or even Rand, she was the one most likely to see Darylene safely off to a
new life.

“I’ll need some time to make arrangements and call in some favors,” said Kyra. “But I’ll see it done. Come back in three days, and we can talk further.”

Darylene took Kyra’s hands and squeezed them. “Thank you,” she said.

Kyra looked down, wondering if Darylene had any idea how deeply Kyra’s distaste for her had run before. “Thank you for what you did,” said Kyra. “Who knows where the city
would be now if you hadn’t come forward.”

“I should have done so earlier, but I didn’t have the courage.” Darylene paused. “I know you must hate him, but Willem was kind to me. I’m not sure I can say I
loved him, but I respected him. He was a proud man, with a vision for Forge to be a beacon to the surrounding cities. Willem had the kind of ambition and foresight that few men ever dreamed of,
much less acted on.” Darylene’s gaze went distant for a moment. “But James was persuasive when we spoke. Eventually, I realized I couldn’t stay silent.”

“He was a very persuasive man,” said Kyra.

“Did you…know James well?” Darylene asked. “I got the impression that he was a hard man to know.”

“I don’t think he revealed much of himself to anyone,” said Kyra. She once again heard James’s whispered words.
Choose your fight.
And Kyra felt something in her
chest. Not quite grief, but not far from it either. “James kept his secrets close, and we didn’t always agree. But I learned much from him.”

Kyra’s injuries continued to heal. As the weather grew warmer, she became able to move around without a cane. She almost had a normal stride now, though larger steps
pained her, as did the few hours before a coming storm. She experimented a bit with running, but her hip had a troublesome tendency to lock up unexpectedly, forcing her to react quickly to keep
from tumbling to the ground.

At Flick’s and Idalee’s insistence, she didn’t try to climb, though as the months passed, she grew restless. Finally, one warm morning when Lettie had gone into the forest and
Idalee had gone to the market, Kyra paused while sweeping the doorstep and found herself gazing longingly at the overhanging eave of her roof. She looked around one more time, assuring herself that
there was no one nearby, and then jumped for it. She missed by quite a distance—it would have been a stretch even in her uninjured days. But there was always the windowsill, which she climbed
by leading with her left leg. From there, it was a precarious moment as she jumped again for the overhang, but this time her fingers caught, and she pulled herself over. She straightened to her
full height and couldn’t help but grin. A light breeze blew through her hair, and she turned her face to enjoy the sun.

She walked a leisurely circle around the edge of the roof. Flick would have scolded her, but she knew she could catch herself if she stumbled. After one loop, she climbed to the top and walked
along the ridgeline, pausing a few times to readjust her balance when her hip locked. But she didn’t fall, and she felt lighter than she had in a long time. Finally, she decided it was enough
climbing for the day. Kyra settled down next to the chimney and watched the road. It was a crisp morning, and only the occasional farmer or horseman passed by. She’d been up there almost an
hour when she recognized the next person coming down the bend.

It took her a while to be sure it was Tristam. He’d been gone the past couple of months. As soon as Edlan retreated and peace with the Makvani became likely, Lord Brancel had called
Tristam home to help rebuild the damage from the Demon Rider attacks. In addition to helping his family, there was another reason for him to leave court for a while. The Council had stripped
Tristam of his knighthood for two more years as punishment for disobeying Rollan’s orders, and his absence gave the resultant gossip some time to settle down.

As Tristam came closer, his eyes locked on her roof, and he smiled and waved. Kyra waved back.

He came to a stop at the corner of the house. “How’s the breeze up there?” he asked.

“Quite nice,” said Kyra. She made her way to the edge and lowered herself down, making sure to land on her good leg. He caught her in a big embrace as soon as she touched the ground,
and she squeezed him tightly back.

“Are you returned for good now?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I’ve done about all I can back at Brancel.”

Kyra pulled back and looked him over. “Home life has agreed with you. You’re looking rather handsome.” It was true. The shadows that had weighed him down over the past months
had lifted, and his eyes were bright. And though he’d lost some weight over the stressful winter, the time at Brancel had filled out his chest and shoulders again.

Tristam’s mouth quirked, and his gaze drifted over Kyra’s face in a way that made her stomach tingle. “You’re looking very well yourself.”

Kyra invited him in and offered him tea and a piece of the cake Idalee had baked that morning. The girl’s cooking was rivaling Bella’s these days.

“Things are much better at the manor,” he told Kyra as they sat down at her table. “There’s still the occasional raid from the rebellious Demon Rider, but the number has
dropped enough so that our family can handle the defense.”

“That’s good to hear,” said Kyra. “And your family, they are well and safe?”

“They are all well,” he said. “Henril will be returning to his post in the border patrols. Lorne will stay with Father a while longer.” He hesitated for a moment.
“I…sent a message to Lord Salis in Parna with my regrets. Lady Cecile is a beautiful, intelligent, and amiable woman, but I do not think we would make a good match.”

Kyra had been drinking her tea, and she was grateful she had an excuse not to look at Tristam. She took a long sip while she composed herself behind the mug. “Will they take
offense?” she asked.

“The family was not pleased, since we’d spent so much time on the negotiations, though my most recent demotion did make me a less favorable match.” He gave a wry smile.
“Apparently, even Parnan families care about court reputation if it gets bad enough. As for Cecile…” And here he paused. “I didn’t know her well, but I think she
might be happy for me. I can only wish her the best.”

Kyra wrapped her mug in her hands. It threatened to scald her skin, but she was too distracted to mind. “So that gives you some respite, then, before your da and your ma start thinking
about another match for you.”

This time it was his turn to look down. He’d eaten his whole piece of cake, and he stirred the crumbs with his fork. “I’ve been speaking to them about other matches.
They’ve always been reasonable on the subject of marriage, and now that our manor is no longer under direct attack, they were happy to hear my thoughts. We’ve talked about the new peace
agreement with the Demon Riders. We’re hopeful that even if things don’t go completely smoothly from here on out, there might at least be some basis for coexisting.” He paused,
and when he spoke again, it was with the expression of a man scaling a cliff without a safety rope. “I…mentioned to them that it might be good, though perhaps unconventional, to think
about a match with one of their number.”

Kyra let go of her mug and wiped her damp hands on her trousers. Her heart beat strange rhythms against her rib cage. “Well, don’t set your sights on Adele,” she said. Her
voice didn’t sound like her own. “Flick is a decent brawler, even if he doesn’t have a knight’s training.”

Tristam smiled at that, though his eyes were still uncertain. “No, I don’t have my sights set on Adele.”

It would have been easier to continue teasing him, but as Kyra met his eyes, she found it hard even to breathe, much less say anything clever. “I see…”

She swallowed, but it didn’t make her mouth any less dry. A long moment of silence stretched between them. Bits of birdsong drifted in through the windows, and still neither of them
spoke.

Tristam cleared his throat. “I’m not asking you to marry me right away, of course. I mean, I’ve been gone a while, and with everything that has happened…I just
thought…well…” He laughed at himself then, and put his fork down to take a deep breath and pull himself together. When he spoke again, his voice was calm but strong. “I
love you, Kyra. You know that, don’t you? And I’d fight for a future for us, if you’ll have me.”

What a difference a few words made. The cottage itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her reply. “And what about what I am?” she asked quietly. “Would you tie yourself
to someone like me?”

Tristam rubbed his jaw. The bruise was gone, but Kyra would always remember striking him there. “I’ve seen you struggle with your bloodlines, and I will always have tremendous
respect for what you can do.” He stopped and looked her in the eye. “I also trust you with my life. I hope you can do the same with me.”

He spoke the words with conviction, and Kyra found that she believed him. How things had changed since their first encounter, when he’d tackled her in the Palace courtyard. She’d
been a common thief, and he had been dead set on destroying her. Kyra reached over and covered his hands with her own. “I do trust you.”

They smiled at each other then and stood up at the same time. The table was still between them. Tristam started to walk around to her side, but she stopped him with a touch on the arm. The
table’s height had caught her eye. Kyra kicked off her shoes and hoisted herself up. She had to put more weight on her arms to accommodate her hip, but she jumped up quickly without knocking
any dishes to the ground. From there, it was just a short hop to land in front of Tristam. He ringed her waist with his arms, his touch setting off a pleasant shiver that swept to the tips of her
toes. Tristam looked down at her, amused.

She shrugged. “I’m still getting a feel for what I can do.”

“And was that a difficult climb, master thief?”

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. He was wonderfully warm. “Horribly difficult, but worth it.”

Tristam bent his face down toward hers then, and she closed her eyes. Her skin prickled at his nearness, and she let out a contented sigh. Then, after what seemed like forever, his lips brushed
hers, and they put off the rest of their talking until later.

A C K N O W L E D G M E N T S

Whisper the word “sequel” into a debut author’s ear and she’ll likely jump five feet into the air and flee wild-eyed into a corner. Writing
Daughter
of Dusk
was a very different experience from
Midnight Thief
, as I made the transition from writing for my own enjoyment to delivering a book under contract while my newfound (and
wonderful) readers waited in the wings. Thankfully, I had a fantastic team of people steering me safely into port.

My editor, Rotem Moscovich, shepherded this manuscript from early outlines to final draft, providing insightful guidance the entire way. Julie Moody, Jamie Baker, and the rest of the team at
Hyperion were instrumental to the process as well.

My agent, Jim McCarthy, kept me sane and assured me, time after time, that each draft was not as horrible as I believed.

My longtime critique group, Courtyard Critiques, offered encouragement and suggestions on my first draft as it came out, three thousand words at a time: Amitha Knight, Rachal Aronson, Jennifer
Barnes, and Emily Terry.

First-round beta readers kindly slogged through the original (boring) beginning and offered key insights for restructuring every plot arc: Lauren James (
Love is not a triangle
), Andrea
Lim (
jukeboxmuse.com
), Anya (
On Starships and Dragonwings
), Stephenie Sheung (
The BiblioSanctum
), Tabitha Jensen (
notyetread.com
), Summer McDaniel (
Blue Sky Shelf
),
Alyssa Susanna (
The Eater of Books!
), and Maja (
The Nocturnal Library
).

Second-round beta readers pushed me to polish every scene and campaigned (successfully) for more sparks between Kyra and Tristam: Faye M. (
The Social Potato
), Jenna DeTrapani, April
Choi, Amy Hung, Lianne Crawford, Emily Lo Gibson, Bekah (
Awesome Book Nuts
), Kelsey Olesen, and Lisa Choi, MD.