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Just keep moving. Every step puts us farther away from danger. That’s all that matters right now. Temra is safe. Focus on the now.
The trail eventually opens onto the city streets. It’s just beginning to get dark, and the people are lighting the two lanterns that hang on either side of their doors. One for each Sister Goddess. For protection.
Though I haven’t bothered to light ours in years, I also haven’t taken them down. Lighting the lanterns certainly never did anything for my parents.
A stray cat peers at us from the compost bins outside the establishment Temra leads us to, which must be the tavern she mentioned. It doesn’t look like a place of great import, with the sticky-looking and fogged-over windows, but the mirth bursting through the glass would suggest those inside are having a grand time.
“Just how do you know about this place or that there’s a mercenary for hire inside?” I ask her.
Temra smiles. “His name is Kellyn Derinor. All the girls at school have been talking about him.”
“Why?”
“You’ll know when you see him.”
“And this place?”
Temra shrugs. “It’s a good place to meet men.”
“You’ve been frequenting this establishment!” I nearly shout. “Have you been drinking?”
“I’m sixteen, Ziva. Of course I’ve been drinking and having fun—while being perfectly safe.” She tries to stride inside the building.
“Oh, we are not done discussing this or your sneaking out.”
“Maybe we could save it for when we’re not trying to outrun a warlord?” she asks.
I narrow my eyes at her back as she pushes into the building. Handing Reya off to a waiting stable boy, I bark orders at him not to unsaddle her. We won’t be that long, and I don’t want him touching any of the precious cargo on her back.
I grab the sword and buckle it to my side before following after my sister.
Temra couldn’t have beaten me by more than thirty seconds into the tavern, yet she’s already seated at a table, surrounded by admirers. Three men and two women are laughing around her, and I watch as one of the men buys her a drink.
How does she do that? Temra has her own magic. A kind that draws people to her and makes it effortless for her to be around them. Jealousy blossoms within my chest, although it’s mostly covered up by the fear of being surrounded by so many people.
Noises and smells are everywhere. Laughter, wailing, chewing, mead, sweat, leather.
Awkwardly, I walk over to my sister. The broadsword weighs me down heavily on my left side, and I have to adjust my stance accordingly. When I finally reach Temra, I hover at her shoulder. That brings the gazes of the others at the table straight to me.
I stare at the back of Temra’s head, willing her to do something. Anything.
She reaches up, grabs my arm, and yanks me onto the chair so that half my rump is balanced in the air. And then, as though Temra’s acceptance was all they needed, whatever conversation I’d interrupted resumes.
“As I was saying, Kellyn is a fine swordsman, despite being so young. There’s talk that his father was a weapons trainer in the late king’s castle, but that could just be a rumor.” The man speaking pauses to take a hefty drink from his cup.
“But honestly, that’s the least of his fine qualities,” one of the girls says. She and the other woman at the table turn toward a corner of the room.
I nearly choke on my own spit.
Golden-red hair. Tanned skin. Longsword at his back.
It’s the stranger who helped me create the sword. I wanted to touch him, and the blade ate up the secret, giving it power.
Secret Eater.
The name comes to me all of a sudden. Normally, I leave the naming of weapons up to my customers, but this one is now my burden to bear.
My thoughts circle back to the mercenary Temra wants to take with us on our journey. Kellyn. He already has a connection to the sword. Either it’s a sign from the Sisters that he’s our best option on our journey or that I should keep him far from the weapon.
