Page 54 of The Second Death of Locke
“All’s I’m saying is this.” Mika’s voice carried across the square, his words slurred with drink. “That boy can’t hide forever. Someday, someone’s gonna find him. And if I got my hands on ’im…”
At first, she thought he was talking about one of the village boys. She glanced up, frowning, wondering what they’d gotten into now.
“Could ransom him,” one of Mika’s friends said. “Imagine the payout.”
“Scaelas would find out,” another said.
“Nah,” Mika replied. “Nah nah nah. You’re thinking all wrong. You know what I’d do? I’d kill him. Stop this whole bloody business. No more power, no more magic, no more stuck-up mages with their bullshit. Then I’d chop ’im up and sell his parts.”
Grey froze—not even the hot tea in her hands could ease the chill in her bones.
One of his companions snorted. “Well, that’s one way to do it. You really think killing that kid would kill the whole system?”
“I think that if I had the chance, I wouldn’t hesitate to find out. Fuck Scaelas, and fuck this war. Let me rule, eh?”
More boisterous laughter filled the square, but Grey barely heard it. Her stomach swam with bile. Kier’s arm was tight around her, drawing her close, shielding her—because even at seventeen, he knew.
They had left the square, risking death on the icy cliff path that led to the shore; in their favorite pebbled beach cove, there was no risk they’d be heard. Grey’s panic was a tangible thing in her chest, her breathing uneven.
“Do you think,” she had asked, pacing back and forth, “others would feel the same? That it’s easier to kill me than to restore Locke?”
“I don’t know,” Kier admitted. He leaned back against the damp, cold rock, watching her. “But they’re not looking for you. They still think it’s Severin.”
Grey shook her head. “We can’t bank on that forever. Someday, they’ll figure it out.”
“Would that really be enough? If someone killed you, would they kill all power? Couldn’t someone else find the source again, or create it?”
“Yes,” Grey said bitterly, rubbing her eyes. “It would kill the power, to kill the source. The only way to take the control of power away from me is to get an heir, forcing a new line of inheritance, and then control that. I’m old enough to bear a child now, if forced, and I’m sure they would kill me after I gave them a well who could take on the power—”
“Grey, stop,” Kier said, gripping her arm. Her voice had taken on a new, high pitch of fear. He was pale, confronted with the truth of her worst fears. “That’s barbaric.”
She laughed, a short, harsh sound. “Then you doubt they’d do it?”
He pressed his lips together, a muscle ticking in his jaw. It was not the first time he’d been furious on her behalf, and she had the awful suspicion it wouldn’t be the last. “I won’t let that happen to you, okay?”
“You can’t control what happens to me.” She let him pull her into his arms, to wrap her up. She tried to time her breathing to his own, pressing her cold nose against his neck. “If Mika ever finds out—”
“He won’t, and I’ll kill him if he even gets close. But we can’t stayhere waiting for someone to find you.” A pause, a beat. “Do you…wantto be Locke?”
“No,” Grey said immediately, remembering the blood, the smoke, the flame. She pulled away, putting space between them—he was just comforting her, as any friend would. “I would rather die.”
“Then we’ll find a way to keep them from finding you. We’ll find somewhere to hide.”
“Thereisnowhere to hide,” Grey said, covering her face with her hands, her stomach heavy with the truth. “No matter where I go, the knights will be looking for me.”
“Unless,” Kier said, looking away from her, “youwereone of the knights.”
She looked up at him. He did not seem afraid, nor did he wear that mischievous smile he had when they were doing something deliciously impulsive and ill-advised. He looked completely serious.
“Join them, you mean,” she said. “Follow Lot to training.”
“We could go together. They would probably let us stay together, even.”
She’d nodded, bitterness blooming. “When the patrol comes back next summer,” she said, arms crossed over her chest, leaning against the salt-soaked rock, “we will join up.”
“You’re too young to do it next summer. But if we wait a couple of years, train more…”
“We’ll lie.”
