Redemption of Thieves (Book 4) by C.Greenwood Page A

choices again, to trust my instincts without questioning where they come from!
    Terrac must have guessed at the storm raging in my head.
    “Maybe you should give me the bow,” he said gently. “I’ll toss it through the bars, far into the night, and you’ll be free of it.”
    I flinched and grabbed the bow as if to protect it, even though he made no move to act on his suggestion. He waited patiently for me to ask. But I could not.
    “There are consequences to be considered,” I said, stalling.
    “What consequences? Surely we are to die soon enough anyway,” he said.
    “That’s just it. The bow could be the key to our freedom. All I have to do is say yes.”
    “What do you mean?”
    I told him all the Skeltai had revealed to me of the bow and of their great desire to possess it. I left nothing out—not the threats against the province or my loathing of their offer.
    When I finished, his expression was thoughtful.
    “So this holds the key to all our lives,” he said.
    He reached out to touch the bow and I had to steel myself against stopping him. Even now it was hard to see another handling the thing I was so possessive of.
    “This decision must be yours,” he told me.
    “I have made it already.”
    “And you decided not to give the bow up?”
    My gut twisted with guilt.
    Yes. I will sacrifice all our lives to keep the thing.
    But I couldn’t stop the words that came out. “There is nothing else for me to do,” I said. “I think giving the bow up would destroy me more thoroughly than anything the Skeltai could do.”
    “Then you must keep it.”
    “What? How can you say that?” I asked. “By trading this bow, I could save us.”
    “This isn’t about saving us. It’s about saving our homes and our province. Didn’t the Skeltai tell you that’s why they wanted the bow, to destroy us? What good would it do any of us to get home again, only to watch our land crumble, destroyed by the very weapon we placed in our enemy’s hands? What would be worth such a tragedy?”
    I looked at him. “You’ve changed so much. Every time I think I’ve got to a place where I understand you again, you throw me another surprise. The Terrac I remember would trade his own mother to buy life. Now I’m offering you a chance to trade something else, a possession that isn’t even yours, to avoid a gruesome death and you refuse.”
    “You’ve changed too over the last couple years. But not all changes are bad.”
    As he spoke I felt his gauntleted hand creep over mine. I resisted the startled instinct to snatch my hand away and sat still until the hammering of my heart slowed. Gradually I began to feel comfortable with his hand resting atop mine and the silence lost its awkwardness. For a brief while I could almost forget our impending doom.
    Nighttime insects buzzed around us and a sharp rock jutted from the earth beneath me, but I was reluctant to slap at the bugs or to shift and resettle myself. I knew if either of us moved or spoke, the gentle spell would be broken and whatever was passing between us in the stillness would be lost.
    It was Terrac who broke the silence. “Ilan, if death is around the corner, there’s something I’d like to get off my conscience before I go. Call it the old priest boy in me.”
    Now he had me curious. “Alright. What is it?” I asked.
    “Remember the last day we were together in Dimmingwood? Back in Red Rock cave, when neither of us realized the Fists were surrounding us?”
    I remembered all too well. It had been the first time the bow made me aware of its influence.
    He went on. “You and I argued over a leather packet you kept hidden in the wall. You wouldn’t tell me your secret plans or let me see what was in the parcel. I guess that made me angry. So on our way outside I pretended to fall against you, using the opportunity to steal your packet and slip it into my jerkin.”
    I thought of the parcel and the brooch from my mother that had been nestled inside.
    I said, “I