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what," he seethed in that same low voice. "D'you know what
they want? D'you know what they've done?"
"Some." Dallin gently pried Wil's hand open, mildly
surprised when Wil simply let him. He peered down at the
man, no longer smiling, but panting with a look of fear in his
eyes Dallin thought was likely there all along, but hadn't
broached the surface 'til now. "I would know it all." He let the
statement take on the tone of a request.
He tugged at Wil's elbow, prodded until Wil backed off and
allowed Dallin to help him stand, then Wil yanked himself
away, turned on Dallin, spun about to spear him with a
warning glare. "If you think I'll go like a compliant little sheep
back to Riocht with you, you're a lot dumber than you look."
There was still anger in the tone, but restrained panic flared
beneath it.
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Dallin blinked, shook his head, dragged Wil out the cell,
gestured for Kenton to lock it then shoved Wil down past the
office and into the other cell at the opposite end. Wil looked
at Locke's sheet-draped corpse as though it might get up and
grab him, but for once, Dallin ignored the little jab of
compassion. He wrenched Wil around to face him. "Is that
why you were going to run? Have you been sitting in that cell
going to pieces about this since last night?" Wil only stared at
him, didn't really need to answer. Panic was simplifying things
a bit, Dallin knew; Wil had been watching from behind that
mask of meek defeat for his chance to run. If Kenton hadn't
snagged him, he'd already be miles away and Dallin would
have to waste more time tracking him down again. Dallin
pinched at the bridge of his nose. "For the love of " A sharp
growl and he clenched his teeth. "You know, if you're going to
eavesdrop, you could at least listen with your head, as well as
your ears. I told Locke we were going to Riocht because they
would have asked her, and I couldn't expect her to lie."
Wil shook his head. "That isn't an answer."
He said it like he deserved one. Dallin rolled his eyes,
irritated with himself that he was going to capitulate and give
him one. "Yes, Wil, I'm that idiotic, and I'm going to take the
Dominion's most wanted straight to their capital city and hope
no one hangs us before we get there. No, we're not going to
Riocht."
"Then what do you plan to do?"
Dallin willfully controlled his breathing, rubbed at his
temple. "I haven't got a lot of options," he answered slowly.
"We're going back to Putnam."
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"Are you insane?" Dallin angrily shushed him, but Wil only
backed up a small step, though he did lower his voice to a
hiss. "I can't go there, either. If you want me dead so badly,
at least have the balls to do it your damned self!"
And that was just about enough for Dallin. He took hold of
Wil's arms, dragged him in close. Wil twitched instinctively,
but otherwise stood his ground, such as it was, and
maintained his fierce glower. Good. If there was a true self to
this man, it was the vicious survivor glaring out from behind
those bruises, and Dallin was more than willing to accept it as
proof of sanity, however dubious.
"That is the very last time I want to hear something like
that from out your mouth," Dallin said, low and through his
teeth. "If I ever do want you dead, rest assured, you'll see
me and my balls coming with both barrels. Until that time,
you would do very well to keep in mind that I have as yet
resisted every very good reason and excellent opportunity
you've thus far presented me to choke the life out of your
bony neck if for no other reason than to get you to shut your
damned mouth every once in a while!
"Now, we are going back to Putnam, because I need help.
If this is what you say it is and it's looking more and more
like it's at least close I can't do it by myself, I need
resources, allies, people I can trust, and I can't find any of
that out here in the middle of bloody nowhere, not with men
like this behind every bush and boulder."
Dallin had expected Wil to jerk back, but he didn't he
leaned closer until they were nose-to-nose, kept his voice just
as low as Dallin's. "I've been doing just fine by myself," he
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retorted, with no small amount of venom and a strange bit of
perverse pride. "If you need your friends in Putnam, then
fine, go and get them, but you won't drag me back there so
they can hand me right back to Siofra."
"Oh, you've been doing 'just fine,' all right." Dallin snorted,
shaking his head. "When I got to the inn the other night, you
were bleeding, broken-boned and blue in the face."
Wil's lip twitched, and his eyes flared. "I'd've "
"No, you wouldn't've, and you know it. How many close
calls have you had over the past few years? How many times
have you been caught or almost caught? The Guild is so
desperate to find you they've solicited bloody Cynewisan for
help, and I thought they'd chew off their own tongues before
ever admitting they didn't have complete control over every
bleeding thing that goes on over there." He jerked his chin
toward the far cell. "I've seen more than enough evidence to
suggest that at least these fanatics aren't about to give up,
and they're serious enough about whatever it is they want out
of you to raze entire villages, and then off themselves in
probably the most gruesome manner I've ever seen, and
that's saying something. If I hadn't come along when I did,
you'd right now be..." He let go, backed off a step, dipped his
voice even lower. "You'd be doing whatever it was those men
had in mind for you. And somehow I doubt whatever it was
would've involved arguing with your keepers."
Right up until that last comment, Wil's eyes had been on
fire with anger and defiance; now, they dulled somewhat, and
he swallowed, deflated a little. His mouth was working, like he
was trying to be outraged and couldn't find the ire necessary.
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"I never..." He looked away, flushed bright red. "I never
thanked you for... for that." His gaze shot over Locke's body
again, then back to Dallin, moving quickly from hesitant and
resentful to frank and open. "Thank you." His voice was low,
and if there was deceit in it, Dallin didn't detect it. "You're
right. I don't think I'd've got away this time. Perhaps it
doesn't seem so, but I'm grateful."
Dallin's eyebrows shot up. He didn't really know what else
to do, so he nodded. "You're welcome," was all he said.
"So... you would make me your prisoner?" Wil's voice was
quiet but even. "Are you my keeper?" Dallin rolled his eyes,
he couldn't help it, and sighed up at the ceiling. "I don't mean
it like... like..." Wil waved the bandaged hand about. "There
were shackles and then there weren't; there was a locked
door and then it was open and then it was locked again, and I
don't... it would be better if I knew."
All right. Fine. Dallin supposed that was fair. And
annoyingly reasonable. He hadn't exactly been consistent,
after all, undecided himself as to whether he was detaining
Wil or protecting him. Though, it was more like a bit of each,
so he wasn't surprised that he'd managed to confuse them
both.
"I didn't lock the cell because I wanted to see what would
happen," Dallin admitted. "If you'd bolted, you wouldn't've
got far; when I wasn't sitting on the porch myself, I had a
guard on the door."
Wil's jaw twitched, a little flare of anger spiking his gaze.
"A test?"
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Dallin merely shrugged. "You fight shackles like a wild
animal, but you accept a cage like you belong in one. You
didn't even try the door." He watched with interest as Wil
frowned, looked at the floor, thoughtful. "If we're going to do
this," Dallin went on, "you're going to have to make up your [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]