Fate's Edge

you’d give me a pat on the ass, and I would stand there, sad and watching you as you fly away on your wyvern to greater adventures and other women. Out of sight, out of mind. If you ever happened to be in this part of the country, you’d look me up for a quickie because you’d know that your superloving has forever spoiled me, and no other man would ever be good enough to replace you. And twenty years from now, you would still be in the exact same place you are now, having the time of your life, grifting for the glory of Adrianglia and for your vengeance, while I waited patiently for a chance to see you. No, thank you.”
    Kaldar stared at her. He had no expression on his face.
    She leaned forward, rocking on her toes to stand a little closer to his face. “You will break my heart, Kaldar. We both know it. And now, since we have everything out in the open, how about we forget we had this conversation? You go back to your room, and tomorrow, we’ll flirt and laugh and act like nothing happened.”
    He just stood there.
    “Fine. You want it the other way, we can do that, too. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me that’s not what you’ve imagined, and, for once in your life, don’t lie.”
    Kaldar leaned forward, his eyes dark. “I imagined that you might want to have a little bit of fun before you went back to wasting your life. You have the brains, the talent, and the looks, and you use all that to take dirty pictures of adulterers and flirt with insurance cheats. Is that really it, Audrey? Is that who you aspire to be?”
    She recoiled.
    “You’re right,” Kaldar said. “When it’s over, I will fly off on a wyvern, and you will go back to your dull existence, suppressing everything that makes you you. I may not be married or trustworthy, but what I do matters, and I’m good at it.”
    “What I do matters, too!”
    “To whom? Anyone can do your job, Audrey. Of course, you are the best at it. You have so much talent and experience, you have no competition. You’re playing with marked cards at a table full of blind players. Is that it? Are you afraid of competition? Afraid to try to see how good you really are? Because I’ve never seen better.”
    “You can leave now.”
    “Oh, I’m going. Don’t worry. Think about what I said, Audrey. You were born to steal, to grift, and to outwit people who need to be stopped. But you insist on withering your soul instead. You say you want honesty. Try being honest with yourself. Why did you break into the Pyramid of Ptah? Why, when I came to you with this possibly fatal proposition to fight the Hand and the Edge barons, did it take you less than ten minutes to take me up on it?”
    He turned and walked out of the room.
    The door clicked closed.
    Audrey flung herself on the bed. It had to be said. Of course it had to be said. If anything, it was a wonder both of them had stayed in the room as long as they had. Most conmen ran when called on it, and neither she nor Kaldar were an exception to that rule. Audrey stared at the door. She wanted it to burst open. She wanted him to charge into the room, grab her, kiss her, and tell her he loved her. It was such a stupid little-girl fantasy, and yet she sat there, desperate, and stared at the door.
    She was right. Everything she had said was perfectly valid. Everything he had said was perfectly valid, too. She had known the safest thing would have been to walk away from this adventure the first chance she got. And when she had climbed the mountain slope to Gnome’s house, hyper-aware of Kaldar behind her, that possibility had entered her head. But she had stayed. She had stayed because it was right, she had stayed because every twist and every challenge sent the excitement of anticipation through her. She had stayed because she cared what would happen to Gaston, Jack, and George. And she had stayed because being near Kaldar made her dream.
    Audrey didn’t know what she would do when it was all over. She couldn’t go back to the Broken. In a twisted way, all her fears had come true: Kaldar had destroyed her life, and up until tonight, she had blissfully helped him dismantle it brick by brick.
    Half an hour later, she knew he wouldn’t be coming. She cried quietly until she was too exhausted to sob. Then she washed her face with cold water to keep it from being puffy and red in the morning, turned off the lights, and climbed into her bed.
    The night shadows claimed the room. She usually welcomed darkness, but tonight it