Fate's Edge

felt sinister. She lay for a long minute, torn between the fear of darkness and the irrational worry that if she stepped down to turn on the lights, something would grab her ankle.
    This was ridiculous.
    She got out of bed, turned on the lights, went to the next suite, and knocked on the door. The door swung open, and Gaston grinned at her.
    “Can I borrow a knife?”
    “A peel-an-apple knife or a serious knife?”
    “A serious knife.”
    He stepped into the room and handed her a long wavy dagger with a silvery blade. “Is anything wrong?”
    “No.” I’m just afraid to go to sleep by myself. “I just realized that I have no weapon.”
    Understanding sparked in his eyes. “Have you seen my uncle? I thought he was with you.”
    “He came by but left a while ago. Thank you for the dagger.”
    “No problem.”
    She went back into her room, locked the door, put the dagger on the night table next to the bed, turned off the lights, and lay down. If any of the Hand’s freaks decided to hide under her bed, she would turn it into mincemeat.
     
    KALDAR leaned on the rail of a long balcony wrapping the third floor of the hotel. Below him, a landscaped courtyard tried to tempt him with a small pool. Mmm. A swim wouldn’t be unwelcome right about now. A paved walkway wound around it and stretched on toward some small river winding its way between green shores. A full moon hung above all of it, like a pale coin in the dark sky. In the moonlight, the river’s water glistened like volcanic glass.
    Regret filled him, and when he looked at the moon’s face, it seemed mournful to him.
    He had blown it with Audrey. He said things he should’ve kept to himself if he entertained any hope of ever being with her. What he had said was the truth, but it would change nothing. When they were done, she would return to her life in the Broken and persist in slowly wasting away. He truly had never seen anyone better, and it brought him nearly physical pain to think she would waste it all. He sighed, hoping to exhale his frustration into the night.
    Careful footsteps came from the stairwell. A moment, and Gaston leaned on the rail next to him. “Here you are, Uncle. I was worried.”
    “I’m touched,” Kaldar replied out of habit, but his voice sounded devoid of mirth even to him.
    Gaston’s eyes caught the moonlight and reflected it in bright silver. He gathered himself, his gaze fixed on the pale disk as if wanting to reach for it. The thoas always had a thing for the moon.
    “Does it speak to you?” Kaldar asked.
    “No. But there is something about it. It’s this beautiful thing you can never reach. No matter what you do, you’ll never touch it. You can only look and imagine what it would be like to hold it.” Gaston turned and looked at him. “Something’s bothering you, Uncle.”
    “How old was your father when he had you? Twenty-eight?”
    “Twenty-nine.”
    “And you’re the youngest of the three.”
    Gaston nodded.
    “I’ve been thinking,” Kaldar said. “Before the Hand decimated the family, we had seven men within five years of my age. None of them were unmarried.”
    Gaston frowned at the moon. “No, except for Richard.”
    Yes, Richard. Bringing up his older brother’s marriage was like worrying an old scab—it had healed over, but it still hurt. Richard’s wife had left him, as their mother had left their father a decade before. Richard had never recovered. Come to think of it, neither had he.
    Kaldar had arranged that marriage. He’d arranged most marriages within the family. Love was one thing. Getting two swamp clans to settle on the dowry and terms was another. At the time, he had no misgivings. Richard and Meline seemed perfect for each other. Both serious, both focused. In retrospect, they had been too alike.
    “It’s Memaw’s fault,” Gaston said. “She nags everyone into marriage. I remember my older brother complaining. The moment he turned twenty, she started after him with the guilt. ‘Oh, I will die soon and won’t get to see you have the little ones. If only you’d find yourself a nice girl, I could go to the funeral pyre happy.’ She’s like an ere-vaurg—once she gets her teeth into you, she won’t let go until you give up.”
    “She never brought it up with me.”
    “Strange. You always had the prettiest girls.” Gaston grinned. “Maybe she was scared, Uncle. If we had Kaldar number two and Kaldar number three around, nothing would stay put. You’d set something