The Knife Thrower

Chapter 32

Sweet, cold water moistens my cracked lips and runs down my dry throat. I open my eyes groggily, trying to see in the green tinted room. A figure kneels over me, holding the stone jug to my lips. I try to sit up but pain shoots through my ribs. I let out a cry and sink back down.

"Shhh." The figure says softly, soothingly. My sleepy mind works hard to remember where I am. My vision sharpens and I see the outline of wavy hair, broad shoulders and a prominent jaw.

"Blake?" I ask uncertainly, mind still half asleep. He gently lowers me back down onto the...blanket? All of a sudden my memory comes rushing back. The traitor, the beating, the execution, the old women. She must have placed a blanket under me after I fell asleep.

He lifts the jug back to my lips and tells me to drink slowly. I take a few sips and he pulls the jug away again. He places the back of his hand against my forehead. His hand is strong and cool, his touch sending electric zaps down my spine.

I shake his hand off and try to sit up. He helps me up but I don't push him off. I can't sit up on my own yet. Nausea hits me and I bite back bile. It's like I am back with Elijah all over again. Was that really only two days ago? I stare at Blake's kneeling form for a long time, not sure what to think.

"Is it time for my execution?" I ask him, voice hoarse. He winces and drops his gaze to the floor.

"Not yet. It is still early." He whispers. My brain hurts but I ignore it.

"Then why are you here?" He looks back up at me, eyes filled with such emotion. Sadness, guilt, hurt.

"Kyra." He starts. "I didn't know you were the Knife Thrower. I didn't know anything was going to happen to you." I cut him off before he can continue.

"When I first opposed the government, when I threw my first knife, I knew what I was getting into. I understand the consequences of saving my brother and sister, of giving them a chance to live. And I'm okay with that." Tears roll down my cheeks but I don't care. I need to get this out. "No one could have changed my decision, no one could have saved me. I don't blame you Blake. This is battle and battle is ugly. Everyone has their secrets, their regrets and their past.

"To die knowing that I have saved my brother and sister from a hopeless, broken future, is all that I want. The other option would have been to die knowing that I could have saved them, but I didn't. And that would ruin me. I am going to die. But that's okay, because I am dying for what is right." He gently wipes away my tears and takes my hand. He looks into my eyes, into my soul.

"You are the strongest, bravest, most beautiful person I have ever met. You have risked your life for what is right, for your brother and sister. Now let me return the favour. Let me risk my life for you." He lightly kisses my forehead and lets go of my hand. He gets up and hands me a pair of sneakers. I look at him confused, not sure what he means.

"What-?" He cuts me off. "We are running out of time. See if you can drink the rest of this jug, but don't drink it too quickly." He whispers hastily, pulling out three black bags from a corner of the room.

The sound of the door opening makes me jump. I tense my aching muscles, head throbbing so much it feels like it is being killed by an angry dwarf with a mallet.

Blake goes over to the door and sticks his head around it. I strain my neck, trying to see who it is he is whispering too. A moment later he pulls his head back inside and opens the door wider.

The old women who was tending to my injuries comes into the room, holding hands with a little girl.

"Kyra!" The little girl says. Taylor. I open my arms and she comes flying into them. I hug her close, ignoring the striking pain in my ribs, feeling her small and fragile frame, so much like Izzy's.

"What are you doing here?" I ask her. Blake replies. "It is not safe to leave her here. She is coming with us. Now don't ask anymore questions, you need your energy for the long journey ahead."

The old women walks over to me and gently pats my arm, her eyes filled with kindness and sorrow. She must be very close to Blake and Taylor, to help us like this. She starts pulling various medications out of a black satchel over her waist.

"Ya still very weak," she tells me, " 'tis journey ain't gonna be easy on ya. I'm gonna give ya some painkillers and ya are gonna take some with ya. Ya have a badly sprained ankle, four broken ribs and ya shoulder is heavily bruised. The medicine will help, but ya will be asleep." I nod my head, not sure what to say.

She gives me too large tablets and tells me to swallow them with water. Then she injects three needles filled with white liquid into my arms and ribs. She starts to rub a sweet smelling paste onto my rib cage which instantly helps with the pain. Finally she bandages up my ankle and by that time I am so drowsy I can barely stay awake.

Blake packs the rucksacks and Taylor comes and sits next to me. She is shy at first, barely saying a word but I coax her out of her shell. She starts to tell me about herself, about Blake. She tells me how she had heard the stories of the Knife Thrower and how I am her biggest hero.

I don't ask her what Blake is doing with the government or where we are going to go. None of that matters now. This is war where the only thing that matters is survival, winning. But no one really wins the war and nothing will ever be the same afterwards. War rages around us, inside us and cannot be ignored. It demands to be felt, to be noticed and to be overcome. But the only way we can defeat it, is to find peace. Peace in ourselves and in the world, and to hold onto it. So when battle comes again, the peace will help us through it.

And right now, right at this moment, I know I have found it. I am at peace.

The End

Look out for book two,

The Forgotten Secret

Coming out soon.