Page 188 of Starside

His breathing is slowing. It makes something rise within me. Worry? Panic? Poisons either need antidotes … or they need to be fought. He cannot succumb to it. I won’t let him. I need to keep him talking.

“Did you always want to be a knight?”

“Want?” He says the word like it’s foreign. He shakes his head. “I became a knight to survive.”

I frown. “You … you were starving?” I remember how fiercely he told me I didn’t know him at all. For some reason, I can’t imagine Raker ever not having anything. He just seems so capable of taking it.

“We were starving,” he says. “My father was a fisherman. My mother was a seamstress. One season, all the fish washed up dead. We were out of food by winter. My siblings were little more than flesh and bone. Against my parents’ wishes, I enlisted as a knight in the king’s guard. The stipend kept them fed.” I don’t miss how he uses the past tense when it comes to his family. I think about all the assumptions I made about him.

Shame sinks through me. I don’t know why I just assumed the opposite. It’s the tale of many warriors. The king provides them and their families with food. So many of them often die, in training or in war. It’s a brutal sacrifice.

“And you were just … really good at killing?” I ask.

“I was good at doing whatever I needed so they survived,” he says. His voice is deeper. Rougher. “The more I advanced, the more food they got, so I became the best.”

“And did it work?” I ask, wondering if I’m prying. Wondering if he’s going to just stop talking. “Was all of it … worth it?”

His breathing is more labored now, as if his body is fighting. Good. If his experience with the poison is anything like mine, his heart will be racing. His head will be pulsing in pain. A distraction. What he needs is a distraction.

“No,” he says, and it’s the only time I’ve heard even a sliver of emotion in his voice.

I can feel it in him. Barbs rising. He might as well have his sword between us. I’ve poked at something sensitive, and I know how much easier it is to build walls than to break them.

“I lost my family too,” I say softly.

I think he might tell me he doesn’t care. Or to stop talking. But he doesn’t. He just sits … like he’s listening.

“It happened in one night.” I swallow the emotion in my throat.

“The nightmares,” he says, his voice ragged.

I nod. “That’s what I dream about. Every time I reach deep enough sleep. That night, when everything changed. I was the only one who survived.” I take a rattling breath. “And I wish it was me who died.”

“Reaching the end will help you get your revenge?” he asks. He must assume I’ll use the cup of magic for something in my plan.

I nod.

“And you?”

He nods back.

I sit down against my heels. “So, we have that in common. Dishonorable intentions.” I tilt my head. “Though I expected nothing less from the king’s most brutal warrior.”

He just stares at me from within the darkness of his hood.

“I know it’s selfish,” I say. “Our side is dying. People are suffering. But—but ever since that night, there’s been a hole inside me. It’s grown, devouring everything. Every shred of empathy or kindness … I feel it withering. I don’t want to care about everyone else. I cared about them, and they’re gone, and this world is worse for it.” My eyes burn. I smile weakly. “I know it’s wrong. But I would trade every single person in this world for them. Without flinching.” I shake my head. “It’s wrong, but it’s the truth.”

“I understand,” he says.

“Of course you do,” I say. “You’re a demon.”

He makes that half-amused, half-frustrated sound again. It’s faint … but there. I stare at the darkness. He stares back. I wonder what he sees. I can feel the heat of him, of his feverish skin, right in front of me, as I lean slightly closer.

That’s when I realize he’s not wearing his mask. Only his hood.

My voice is barely a whisper. “Well … since you’re dying.” I swallow. “Your face. I want to see your face before then. You know, in the interest of coils of snakes and all.” He has seen my markings. He has seen me. We have fought back-to-back and survived countless dangers.

He doesn’t say anything. So, I raise my arm. My hand trembles as I reach for his hood, slowly, so slowly.