Page 21 of Nemesis Mine
I don’t need to ask. You said you felt frustrated in that interview you did. Bored too.
Memorising my interviews, are you.
Only the parts about myself x
There was a lull after that exchange. Cyrus told himself it was for the better. He was getting too accustomed to the impatient rattle of the raven at his window.
But Maximillian, like Cyrus, couldn’t seem to help himself. The next letter carried a weight of honesty Cyrus doubted he’d meant to share.
So what if I feel frustrated? It’s to be expected. I’m not telling you anything new, I said it in that interview. It’s just champion life. Cut ribbons, save the needy, fight wrongdoers. We’re all just going round and round in circles. It is boring. And I know you feel it too. I can tell.
Written on the back, crossed out once but then rewritten as though Maximillian had changed his mind twice over:
Maybe there’s a way to change things. But it would involve you and Inottrying to kill each other the next time we cross paths. I can’t see that happening, can you?
Cyrus’s quill was already in his hand, ready to scratch out whatever reply might niggle the most at Maximillian. But that last message gave him pause. He touched the nib of his quill to the words Maximillian had written, tracing them.
A way to change things. You and I.
It was probably a champion’s trick. Cyrus should not fall for it. But he couldn’t deny the tug of curiosity.
His response was short and to the point. If Maximillian was playing a game, he would have to spell it out.
Don’t talk in riddles. What are you trying to say?
Maximillian would probably shy away from responding for a while. It would follow the pattern he’d set thus far—that he seemed willing enough to talk to Cyrus, but he got cold feet whenever he stopped to think about what he wasdoing. He’d mentioned a personal assistant; perhaps he had someone whispering in his ear, advising him against it.
But Maximillian’s response was almost immediate.
I’m not writing it down where others could read it. But I’ll tell you to your face.
And Cyrus would have laughed, rumpled up the parchment, and scoffed at the idea that Maximillian ever thought he’d fall for such a blatant trap, if not for the three words scrawled out below.
If you dare.
Of course Cyrus dared. Whatever Maximillian was proposing, Cyrus dared.
I’ll talk. But you can come to me.
Cyrus didn’t bother to pretend that he wasn’t eager for a response this time. He entertained himself by imaging how Maximillian’s stomach would drop when he realised that Cyrus wasn’t walking into his trap. How he’d flounder for a way to get out of it, an excuse to cling to. Some feeble way to let him cling to his pride whilst sidestepping a plan he was never going to agree to.
But then the raven came, and Cyrus was the one experiencing a jolt of surprise.
When and where?
Chapter Six
Two days later, as evening was consumed by the gentle quiet of dusk, there was a knock at the door.
Cyrus had expected no knock. He’d assumed that either Maximillian wouldn’t show up at all, shying away despite his earlier bravado, or he would barge inside without warning, sword in hand. Cyrus was ready for that, sitting with his eyes fixed on the door and a pair of daggers laid out on his lap.
But the knock came, soft, the barest brush of knuckles; and then Maximillian’s voice, pitched low. “Earthshaker?”
Cyrus rose with a frown, tucking one dagger into his belt and keeping the other at hand. He lurked behind the door for a few moments, in case the champion did try to storm in, but all was quiet.
Strange.
He cracked open the door an inch to reveal Maximillian, alone, halfway through a furtive glance over his own shoulder. His chestnut horse grazed a few paces away. He looked back sharply at the creak of the wood, his eyes meeting Cyrus’s.
