Free 10: His Holy Bones by Ginn Hale Page B

the Gray Space. John straightened.
    Fikiri pushed his blond hair back from his face. A thin scratch cut across Fikiri’s forehead. He wiped the blood away with the cuff of his heavy black coat. As soon as he noticed John watching him, he squared his shoulders and thrust his chin out. His expression struck John as almost childishly imperious.
    Ji was right, John thought suddenly. Fikiri was little more than a boy. He would only be seventeen in another month. He had done stupid, dangerous things, but he had also had terrible things done to him. As the mature adult, it was John’s obligation to be more forgiving. He should at least offer Fikiri an opening for civil conversation.
    “Good afternoon.” John made the Payshmura sign of peace.
    Fikiri didn’t return the gesture. He kicked at a clod of dirt, uncovering three decaying fingers. He stepped back.
    “So what brings you down here?” John tried to sound friendly.
    “I’m going in with Sabir tonight,” Fikiri said. “I’m going to free Loshai.”
    “Good. That’s wonderful news.” John found himself smiling with genuine warmth at Fikiri.
    “I came here first because I wanted to know what you planned on telling her once she’s free.” Fikiri’s tone was still cold, his expression hostile.
    “Telling her?” John asked. “About what?”
    “About me and you,” Fikiri replied.
    “Us? What would I have to tell her about us?”
    “How you killed my mother, for example,” Fikiri snapped. He glared at John.
    “I didn’t kill your mother. The Payshmura killed her,” John stated firmly. He felt a deep guilt over Lady Bousim’s death, but he wasn’t about to allow Fikiri to exploit that.
    “What are you going to tell Loshai?” Fikiri demanded. John realized that it wasn’t just Lady Bousim’s execution that Fikiri was worried Laurie would find out about.
    “Are you afraid that I’ll tell her that you were to blame for the Payshmura putting me out on the Holy Road?” John asked. Fikiri’s pale face flushed red.
    “You put yourself out there with your own confession!”
    “I didn’t just rush back to Rathal’pesha and confess and we both know that, Fikiri. You panicked and nearly got both Ravishan and I killed.”
    “I knew you were going to blame me. You just want to make sure that she hates me!”
    “I don’t want Loshai to hate you,” John responded.
    “Then what are you going to say to her?” Fikiri demanded.
    “Well, I’m not going to lie to her.”
    “I knew it!” Fikiri shoved his hands deep into his coat and stepped closer to John. He glared at John. “I won’t let you turn her against me. You won’t tell her anything.”
    John glanced down at Fikiri’s pale hands. He’d drawn his black curse blade. John stepped back. Fikiri advanced on him.
    “Look, Fikiri, I understand that you’re angry. You have good reason to be angry, but so do a lot of people. We’ve all been through a lot. We’ve lost people we love—”
    “You haven’t lost anything!” Fikiri snarled. “Because all you care about is your precious Ravishan!”
    “That’s not—”
    Fikiri lunged forward much faster than John expected. Fighting beside Sabir’s troops had honed his skills. A wrenching pain exploded through John’s chest as Fikiri drove his curse blade into his heart. John stumbled back from the impact and Fikiri sprang away from him.
    A terrible, searing pain burned into John’s flesh. The ground shuddered beneath John’s feet. Overhead, faint streaks of clouds suddenly darkened and rolled into black masses.
    Fikiri watched him with an almost radiant expression, blind to the darkening sky.
    “You are such a fucking idiot!” John snarled.
    “I’m not the one who’s dying,” Fikiri said, smiling.
    John ripped the curse blade from his chest. Steaming dark blood gushed up over his hand. He shattered the curse blade between his bloody fingers and hurled the pieces to the ground.
    It took him a moment to calm the fury in him and to draw