“Spending the night.” He strode inside. “Look on the bright side, you might manage to strangle me in my sleep.”
Behind him Shade flowed in—still a simple shadow—dragging a bundle of candles, and I stiffened. Did he know about the kiss? Had Ignifex boasted to him?
“Why?” I managed to ask.
“Because you have a nice lap.” He rested a hand on the face of a caryatid and leaned toward me. “And because I had a strange little feeling that you were planning to get into trouble tonight.”
“I’m always planning trouble,” I said. I could feel every contour of the space between us, and I wondered if this weakness was visible, if it glimmered off my body like an oily film on water.
“It’s this or I lock you up,” he said cheerfully. “There are twenty minutes left until dark; you know I can do it.”
Shade was already lighting candles around the edges of the room. I could see his quick movements from the corner of my eye, but I didn’t dare look at him because I also couldn’t let Ignifex know how much I cared for his captive.
I had to remember that both Shade and I were captives. I lifted my chin and met Ignifex’s gaze.
“Don’t you think I might leave you again?”
His teeth flashed in a smile. “I don’t know, will you?”
The last candle flickered to life. Shade slid out the doorway, and a bit of the tension left me. At least now he couldn’t watch.
“Only if I think it will kill you,” I said.
And that was how I ended up with the Gentle Lord in my bed, his head resting in my lap. He looked even younger when he slept—and since his eyes were closed, he looked human. I stroked his hair lightly; it was soft and silky as the fur of our old cat Penelope, and I wondered if he ever purred.
They called him—among other things—the silver-tongued deceiver, because he could trick men into believing any falsehood without ever saying a lie. I could not trust his words, much less his kisses. But he had saved me from the shadows, he had clung to me for comfort in the night, and he had brought me to the field of flowers . . . perhaps not entirely for the sake of getting the key back.
That’s what makes you my favorite, he had said. I knew it was pathetic—more than that, obscene—but those simple words, which might easily be a lie, made me want to care for him.
But what I wanted didn’t matter, and neither did what he might or might not feel for me. I had thought about this during my solitary dinner. It didn’t even matter whether he willingly made bargains or not, nor whether the demons attacked people at his command or against his will. What mattered was saving Arcadia, and making sure that no one else would die like my mother or Damocles, that the Children of Typhon would not ravage anyone else like Elspeth’s brother. And I was sure that Ignifex had not lied when he said that he had masters, who set laws for his existence and ordered him to take wives. He could not possibly hold Arcadia against their will.
If I wanted to undo the Sundering, I would have to defeat not just Ignifex but his masters as well.
No doubt Ignifex could not directly defy them, any more than Shade could speak his secrets. But Shade had helped me still, and surely Ignifex would be even more willing to bend rules.
I realized I had been stroking his hair for some time now. I stopped, but I couldn’t resist sliding my fingertips down his cheek. Without waking, he leaned into the touch.
Against all reason, he seemed to trust me. I had an idea now, for how I could use that trust against him. If I was any daughter to the Resurgandi, any sister to Astraia, I surely would.
“Shade,” I whispered. “Shade!”
I called for several minutes before he appeared, condensing into being right beside me. I had prepared myself for this moment, but when he looked at us, I still went hot and cold at once with shame. His face was blank, but when his gaze flickered to Ignifex, I thought I saw pain in the set of his mouth.
“Why are you kind to him?” he asked, and I flinched. He didn’t know the half of it.
It didn’t matter if Shade hated me. I had told myself this over and over, but I still had to choke down explanations and excuses.
“It’s useful,” I said stiffly. “I’m still going to defeat him, you know.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized they sounded both defensive and condescending—but it didn’t matter. I plunged on, “I know you can’t tell me much, but listen and nod yes or no if you can. When the darkness was burning him, you tried to leave him, so clearly you don’t lack the will to hurt him. But you haven’t killed him yet, though in nine hundred years you must have learnt how.”