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He doesn’t look at me while we ready the horses. I know, because I’m staring at him every chance I get.
And when we start riding, leaving the town far behind, he hums to himself.
Is that a happy hum? Or a nonchalant hum? Or an I-need-something-to-pass-the-time hum?
Maybe I’m thinking too much about him and what he’s doing. Why should he act differently just because we kissed? Thoughthe humming is a little unusual for him. Whatever. The point is, he’s fine, and I need to be fine, too.
Just act normal. And everything will feel normal.
Eventually.
Maybe.
When I am finally able to get Kellyn out of my head, it is only because my mind finds something else to worry about. I catch sight of the sleeping sword attached to my horse and remember how conflicted I was about making it in the first place. Especially when Ravis could have gotten his hands on it.
And now his men are following us, likely gaining with each day…
After a while, I say, “I’ve been thinking about the sword.”
“Which one?”
“The bastard sword I made to aid us in our escape. I think we should get rid of it.”
“Why?”
I give my horse a pat when he catches himself after stumbling on a rock. “It’s too powerful. It shouldn’t exist. If Ravis gets his hands on it while trying to conquer, he’d knock out legions of men and be free to murder them in their sleep.
“The sword served its purpose,” I continue. “I think it’s time to return it to the ground.”
Kellyn doesn’t say anything for a moment. “It makes sense to me. We want to help our friends, but we can’t risk anything too powerful in the wrong hands. How do you propose we get rid of the sword? Do you want to forge another stone?”
“I don’t think I need to. The sword shouldn’t be indestructible the way Secret Eater is. I didn’t put so much of myself into it. I created this one for a very specific purpose, with a very specific ability. The magic should disperse if the sword is broken.”
Kellyn nods. “We could take care of it right now, then, if you want?”
“I think that’s best. Before anything else can happen.”
“All right.”
We dismount, and Kellyn strides over to a fallen tree. “May I?” he asks.
I hand over the weapon.
He wedges it under the trunk as far as it will go, so the hilt sticks out of the ground at a forty-five-degree angle. Then he places a rock the size of his head beneath it. He climbs atop the fallen tree.
“Stand back,” he cautions, and I lead the horses away.
Kellyn jumps, and the sword snaps, the sound ricocheting through the entire woods.
I feel the magic leave the weapon, as though a sun-warmed stone suddenly lost its heat. We leave the pieces there on the ground. Kellyn mounts his horse once more. The matter is done with so quickly.
“If only Secret Eater had been so easy to dispense with. Maybe Kymora would have left me alone,” I say.
“I doubt it,” Kellyn says.
He’s likely right. “What do you suppose Skiro’s done with her?”
“If he has any sense, he’s removed her head from her shoulders. A person like that is too dangerous to let live.” He shudders, and I think I know exactly what appeared in his mind. The fight outside the Amanor smithy. Him fighting her, sword to sword—the mercenary far outmatched.
