Page 28 of The Only Way Out Is Up

Her voice is a rasp. “Did you…?”

She looks over her shoulder and spots Star, standing outside the spreading pool of blood and fastidiously wiping his manipulator clean.

“It’s okay,” I venture, as though speaking to one of the kids. “He’s dead. He’s not going to hurt you.”

The transformation that comes over Ky’s face is astonishing. All the stunned shock vanishes from her eyes and they sharpen into diamonds. Her brow creases in thought, as though she’s already planning five moves ahead.

“Of course he’s dead,” she says. “That’s what happens when you get your throat slit. We have to get out of here.”

I roll out of her way as she strides across the room, dripping trails of blood across the carpet as she goes. She falls to her knees beside the bed and grabs a stuffed leather satchel from underneath.

“Can your runic take out four armed guards?” she snaps.

I’m feeling a little left behind. “Uh, no. Definitely not.”

“Then we need another way out, fast. We’ve got until they think that fucker would be done raping me. How long does a rape normally take, do you think?” She looks thoughtful for a moment, then shakes her head. “Never mind, don’t answer that. How did you get in?”

“Window,” I say, barely keeping up. “You said it wasn’t locked.”

“It’s a ten-meter drop.”

“I climbed the wall.” I display my sigwork gloves.

“I don’t suppose you have an extra set. Can you carry me with those?”

“Probably. Maybe.”

“Have to risk it. Let’s go.”

I take a deep breath. I want to say, Hold on a second. I haven’t agreed to any of this. I don’t have any idea what’s going on. I told Star to kill someone, fucking stars, and sky above that is a fucking lot of blood. I’ve seen people die messy before, but I’ve never been directly responsible.

But she’s right. There are guards in the hall. There are Arbiters everywhere. This is a really bad place to be. And having come this far, I’m not going to leave her here, either.

So instead I say, “You should probably clean yourself up first.” I give an uncomfortable cough. “And, um, put on some clothes.”

Ky looks puzzled, then glances down at herself. Her expression turns thoughtful.

“Hmm.”

A thorough cleaning will have to wait, but she towels most of the blood off and washes her face and hands. When she goes to the closet and yanks off her gore-soaked underwear, I hastily turn away. After a few seconds of rustling there’s a tap on my shoulder, and I look back to see her dressed in well-fitted trousers and a dark shirt and vest, with her hair bound up and stuffed under a shapeless cap.

“Better?” she says. “If you were an Arbiter, would you scream bloody murder?”

“Not immediately.”

“It’ll have to do.” She tugs uncomfortably at her cap and grimaces. “It’s going to take ages to get it out of my hair. Okay. Out the window.”

I slide the pane open and Star skitters outside.

[Assessment: clear. Addendum: what exactly are we doing?]

Kinda figuring that out as I go along.

I pull off my pack and toss it to Ky, and she slips it over one shoulder beside her own. I kneel by the window and she clambers onto me, wrapping her arms around my chest and her legs around my waist. I stand up with considerable difficulty. Somehow, beautiful as she is, I expected her to be ethereally weightless, but of course she’s nearly as big as I am. I can feel the warmth of her, and her breath tickles my neck.

“Ow,” she says. “Something’s digging into my hip.”

“Oh.” I slip my hand between us, trying not to grab her anywhere untoward. “Here. It’s your sword.”