The Phoenix Thief

TWENTY THREE

KILTER TOLD THEM everything. He told of Dmal, and the Chancellor, and Nátala. He explained how he'd come into the forest, seeking the Phoenix, only to find Catrío and Shev and, later, Pierstov and Vittela. He opened the notebook, laid it in Shev's hands, found the photographs of himself and the others, and spread them over the carpeting in front of the fireplace in the library. He spoke on and on, more words than he'd ever said at one time before and stumbling now and then when his knowledge ran out and he didn't know how, exactly, to let them all know the meaning of his actions up to that evening.

"But you see, don't you?" he begged, kneeling among the photographs in front of the couch where Catrío sat, Shev behind her like a silent sentry. "You see what I mean, why I did everything? I didn't want to. I had to!"

"This all started because you wanted to save your friend, Dmal?" Catrío wasn't crying any more, but the damp streaks on her face glistened in the flicker of the fire.

Kilter nodded, panting. His throat was sore from trying so hard to let words out while keeping tears in.

Catrío lifted her eyes to his face. "You told me it's important to know things. Then why didn't you tell me about Dmal? Shev and I could have helped you."

Kilter couldn't hold her gaze. He looked down at her bare feet. "Dmal is my friend, and he was hurt because of me. You are my friend. I didn't... I didn't want to hurt you."

"Then why did you shoot Shev?" The coldness that had changed Catrío's voice that awful night edged back into it again.

"I don't know how pistols work. I didn't know it would do that. I didn't want it to." Kilter lifted his head and met first Catrío's eyes again and then Shev's face. "But when we get the Phoenix from the Chancellor, I will wish for Shev to be healed. I promise. And you'll come with me to Istravol to get the Phoenix, Catrío. I promised you that, too."

"You have to come with us to Istravol, anyway," Pierstov said where he sat cross-legged on the floor by the fire, Nysansi's head in is lap, and speaking for the first time since entering the house.

Seated beside him on one of the library chairs, Vittela nodded. "The Phoenix fire, remember? We have to get back to the city before Alishek unleashes it if Nátala doesn't succeed in stalling him."

Shev jumped at his sister's name, as he had every time Kilter had mentioned her in telling his story. Kilter got to his feet, ignoring the throb of his weary legs, and looked right at the metal-man again.

"You must come with us to Istravol, too. The Phoenix is there. You can be healed, and be a man again. The Chancellor, your father, may stop the war if he sees you, too."

Shev groaned softly.

"What is it, Shev?" Catrío turned around to lay her hand on his rusty arm.

Kilter hadn't noticed it outside earlier, but most of Shev's body had been claimed by rust in the few days he had been gone. Instead of shining in the firelight, only parts of him here and there reflected back the light at all.

Everyone was silent for a moment, listening to the scratching of the charcoal stub as Shev wrote on one of his papers. Then Catrío read his words aloud.

"The Phoenix healed me twelve years ago, yes, but I should have died. There was so little life left in me by the time it transformed me into armor that I cannot leave this valley, the place of my saving. I tried, before, but did not get far before I realized I was starting to die again, the echo of the Phoenix's magic no longer protecting me once I was beyond its reach."

"How far did you get, Shev?" Catrío asked, handing back the paper for him to write on.

"Halfway to Istravol."