The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy) (9 page)

"He means no such thing," she exclaimed, and
squeaked as Lysato pulled out a weapon very similar to her hira shuriken,
striking a battle stance. "No! Don't you dare-"

Before the sentence was even finished, he had lunged
at Skye. The swordsman nimbly sidestepped and shoved Lysato backwards, then
rushed the smaller man. Lysato tried to edge out of the way and cut down with
the shuriken, but Skye moved much faster, catching the weapon and twisting it
out of the ninja's hands before landing a solid blow to the other man's lower
back, forcing him to his knees.

Skye knocked Lysato to the ground and placed a booted
foot between his shoulder blades.

"Move and you'll regret it," he said in
Amato-style Toryn, then directed his gaze at Ashlyn.

She was completely dumbfounded.

Skye
spoke
Toryn?

"You said you could explain," he growled.

"I can." Or, um,
not
. Ashlyn tried to
think of an excuse- just when did Skye learn to speak Toryn?- that wouldn't
make it sound like she'd been playing both sides. Which of course, she hadn't,
but how could she explain that to their fearless leader?

She felt her cheeks heating under his gaze.
"Devlyn wants to make me co-Leader of Toryn," she said. "It
could...mean the end of the war...maybe before it even really starts."

He raised an eyebrow. "And you were planning on
letting us in on this fact...when?"

"Hey, I wasn't hiding anything from you,"
Ashlyn said defensively. "I just found out about it this morning. This guy
walked in and told me that he would take me to Toryn in three days. I wasn't
sure what I was going to do, but I didn’t want to make any snap decisions."

"Why didn't you come to me in the first
place?"

"Faithless infidel," Lysato spat, rather
unexpectedly and totally randomly, prompting wary glances from both Skye and
Ashlyn.

"Uh, I wasn't sure that you'd approve."

"Of course I wouldn't have approved! You're our-
stay still," he snapped at Lysato, who stopped struggling and glared at
Skye with one eye, having to nearly twist his head entirely around just to see
the people standing above him. "You're our only hope for some kind of
resolution to this war, Ash. I thought you were a sure thing. I trusted you.
Then Vargo tells me you visited the ninja we captured without telling me, and
now I find you trading secrets with another Toryn. Tell me, what am I supposed
to think? How am I supposed to trust you now?"

"I thought I could get some information out of
Kou…um, the ninja," Ashlyn said. "But he didn't tell me enough to
make it worth your time to hear. And Lysato- this guy- I don't think he means
any harm, he just wants to take me back to Devlyn."

"To make you co-Leader," Skye said, and it
was obvious that he didn't believe that was Devlyn's intention at all.

"Look, Skye, people are staring," Ashlyn
told him self-consciously. "Can't we take this up to Aik's house or
something?"

Wordlessly, Skye reached down to grab Lysato's
shoulder and haul the other man upright, handing the shuriken to Vargo, who had
somehow materialized behind him.

Ashlyn glared at the red-haired Spartan. She should
have known all that sensitive crap he'd spewed had been fake. How could she
ever have trusted him to keep her visit to Kou a secret? If she hadn't loathed
him before, she would
really
detest him from now on.

To her infinite surprise, Skye motioned for her to
lead the way. She wondered why, and then realized stupidly that he probably
didn't trust her to follow him. Like she'd just run away after being accused of
spying? Please. She had a little more self-respect than that.

Grumbling, she trudged towards the staircase she'd
only minutes before came skipping down. "This is ridiculous," she
said, momentarily forgetting her desire to keep their dispute secret. "For
the last three years I've been perfectly fine on my own, but then
you
-"
She tossed a glare of what she hoped was absolute contempt over her shoulder at
Vargo and Skye- "show up, and all of a sudden I can't exist without
somebody hovering over my shoulder.

“As if that's not enough, now I've got to defend
myself for talking to one of my kinsmen. I suppose I should be mad that Drake
is hanging out with Trace, then, huh? 'Cause last time I checked she was
so
on my enemy list! I suppose she's more trustworthy than me, right? I guess you
trust a Spartan more than your own friend!"

"No, I don't," Skye said. He sounded tired.
"But I do want to get this straightened out."

Lysato lunged forward suddenly, plowing into Ashlyn
and sending them both tumbling to the ground. Ashlyn let out a yip as their
tangled limbs added momentum to her forward motion.

"Stop!" she shrieked, seeing the rapidly
approaching drop-off. She half-flipped and dug her heels into the landing in
front of the stairs that led to the weapons shop, but they gained no purchase
on the slick ground, scrabbling uselessly against the sandy rock.

Almost before she could comprehend what was happening,
Ashlyn skidded off the edge of the landing and plummeted towards the ground
below.

This was not good. In the space of a heartbeat, she'd
already considered all possible methods of landing. If she took the fall on her
shoulder, she might put too much of the weight on her neck and injure herself.
If she landed on her feet, her inherently weak ankles probably wouldn't be able
to take the strain and would collapse.

And if she landed on her back...well, she didn't want
to consider that option. Too often Suki had thrown her off and Ashlyn had been
left sprawled face-up, bruised, battered and hardly able to move.

She didn't have time to decide which method would hurt
less, so Ashlyn did what came naturally- she was falling headfirst, so she held
out her hands, fingertips splayed. When she saw the scratchy dirt coming up to
meet her, she kicked her legs back and started a somersault in mid-air. Her
fingers barely brushed the dirt as she flipped, but her shoulders and upper
back struck painfully as Ashlyn spun onto the ground, rolling over and over and
over again in an attempt to lessen the force of impact.

She could feel the gritty sand biting into her skin,
and winced, picturing skinned elbows and knees, with bruises everywhere.

At last she collided with the mud wall of the gigantic
dwelling, and Ashlyn's crazed rolling came to a crashing halt.

"Ow!" she yelped, suddenly aware of the
intense pain in her lower leg as she shifted her weight.

Aaron appeared beside her, his stubbly face showing
concern. "Are ya hurt?" he asked, out of breath from dashing down the
stairs.

"Yes!" she yelled in his face, before
belatedly realizing his close proximity and lowering her voice. "Yes, I
am. When I get my hands on that creep Lysato, I'm going to
-
ow!
Watch it, that hurts!" She swatted away his hand, and struggled to a
sitting position.

"Looks like ya may have done somethin' to it,
kid. This ain't good."

She glanced down at her legs, noting no particular
change in their appearance. "No, I think it's okay, no thanks to Skye and
company." Frowning, she rotated her foot at the ankle, keeping her face
carefully blank as a jolt of pain shot through her lower leg.

"Hey," Vargo exclaimed, coming up behind
her, "are you okay?" Breathless, he crouched beside her, surveying
her leg with a worried expression on his face.

"Beat it, jerk," Ashlyn snapped.

The redhead cocked an eyebrow. "Glad to see we're
back on friendly terms again." He moved to take her foot in his hands,
slowly running his fingers down her shin.

"Yeah, well, what did you expect me to say? 'Oh,
so
glad you told Skye I was a spy, wanna share a jug of sake?' Dream on!" She
inhaled sharply as he shifted her foot slightly, her aching joints protesting
the hurtful motion.

"This is outta my league," Aaron said,
holding up his hands when Vargo gave him a frustrated look.

"Look," Vargo said, his tone biting as his
hands moved over her ankle, where most of the pain was centered, "Skye
asked, I told. That's all there is to it. It's not like I pinned him down so I
could spill all your dirty little secrets."

"I don't have dirty little secrets," she
seethed. "And I don't know what you told him, but if it came from you, it was
probably a totally perverse lie!"

"I might have embellished a bit," Vargo
admitted slyly. He set her foot back on the ground and braced both hands
against his thighs, a smile playing around his lips. "Skye was quite
surprised at your audacity."

"Why, you-" She tried to slap him, but he
caught her hand smoothly in his and hooked it over his shoulder, standing and
hauling her upright with him in one swift motion.

Ashlyn gritted her teeth when she slumped against him,
unable to put any weight on her left leg. "Oh, that hurts," she
muttered, tears springing to her eyes. She wasn't the type to cry over pain,
but then she wasn't sure that 'pain' was enough to describe the agonizing,
throbbing, pulling-apart-at-the-tendon-and-shredding slowly sensation that was
settling deep within her ankle.

"How's it feel?" Aaron asked, swapping his
unlit cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other.

"Crummy," she mused, and stared harder at
her foot, as if that was either going to cure it or reveal what exactly was
wrong with it. "Where's Skye?"

"Went after your friend," the old pilot
grunted. "Took off that way." He jerked his chin in a spastic motion
to some direction that Ashlyn couldn't identify.

She fumbled uncomfortably at Vargo's shoulder, trying
to get a better grip. "He's not my friend!"

"Hey, I ain't passin no judgment," Aaron
said, holding his hands up in front of him. "I really don't give a crap
'bout that anyway. I just don't want you joinin' your fr - uh, that ninja in
the ship's holdin’ cells. Ain't too comfortable in there."

She shifted her gaze to Vargo, staring at his chin
instead of his eyes, determined not to give him any more satisfaction from her
predicament than necessary. "I need to get up to Aik's house, and I can't
do it alone - and don't you dare try to pick me up!" she snarled when he
reached to slide a hand behind her thighs. "Just help me hobble up
there."

"Fine." Vargo grinned as he slid an arm
around her waist, the other one holding the hand that was draped around his
neck. "I think I like this way just fine."

Ashlyn tried very diligently to minimize physical
contact as the Spartan began half-carrying her over to the stairs. Climbing the
ladder to reach Aik's house proved to be a problem, but finally (after some
hand-slapping and death threats) Ashlyn conceded enough to let Vargo climb up
behind her, with Ashlyn leaning back against him and using him for support when
she had to lift her uninjured ankle to the next rung.

Of course he insisted on carrying her the short
distance into Aik's living room, but she didn't make it easy for him.

"Ow, ow, ow," Ashlyn chanted as Vargo settled
her on the couch. "Ow!"

"Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all.

Ashlyn folded her arms across her chest and fixed him
with a grumpy stare, determined to stay angry. Carrying her up two flights of
stairs and a ladder didn't make up for blabbing to Skye.

He caught the look and raised an eyebrow. "Take a
picture," he told her, choosing to interpret her loathing as some kind of
come-on. "It'll last longer."

"The only way I'd do that would be if I could
burn it afterwards," Ashlyn said darkly.

"After what?" he replied, and looked like he
was going to continue, but then he hesitated, looking a little unsure of
himself. Ashlyn allowed herself a moment of satisfaction- she'd insulted Vargo
and he'd been unable to think of any kind of suitable comeback.

But then Skye walked into the room, slamming the door
open so hard that it hit the wall and made the whole house rattle.

"Your friend is in the airship," he growled.
"Restlyn's keeping an eye on him."

Ashlyn noticed that Skye's hair was slightly rumpled
and dusty-looking. She wondered if he'd had to struggle with Lysato in his
quest to catch the other man. Probably, she thought uneasily. It wasn't likely
that the ninja had gone down without a fight.

Skye yanked a chair away from the wall, shoving an
assortment of books and parchments out of the way as he did so, and straddled
it backwards like she and her friends used to do in grade school. Even now, at
the ripe old age of twenty-three, he still sometimes looked like an overgrown
kid to Ashlyn, but she kept that thought to herself. Telling Skye he looked
like a child probably wouldn't earn her any points with the swordsman. She
shifted on the couch, uncomfortable under his black stare.

"Whose side are you on?" he asked bluntly.

Er. Not what she'd expected him to start out with, but
it was good enough. "Yours," Ashlyn said automatically.
"But-"

He held up a hand, silencing her. Ashlyn frowned; her
fifteen-year-old self would not have been happy at being hushed by a simple
gesture. Her eighteen-year-old self didn't like it much, either.