Blade of Secrets (Bladesmith #1)(33)

Much more dangerous.

Temra shoots to her feet and pulls back one of the tent flaps.

I can see that the fire has died, but Kellyn is up and alert, his sword in his hands.

“Stay in your tents!” he calls out.

Temra dashes outside.

“What are you doing?” I shriek after her.

I’ve no choice but to follow.

Reya is frantic; I can hear her hooves pounding against the ground as she strains against her rope. She neighs in distress.

Temra goes to her, and I’m right on her heels. I snag the rope and pet the space between her eyes, muttering soothing sounds. I expect Temra to stroke her back. Perhaps jump on so we can ride away. Instead, she goes for the weapons bundle.

She frees Midnight from its sheath, the shortsword just as black as the night sky.

The howls grow louder, and now I can hear rustling in the foliage.

A spark appears, followed by blinding light. Kellyn has relit the fire. I watch in confusion as he rips off his shirt, ties it tightly around one of the large branches stacked beside the camp for cooking tomorrow’s breakfast, pours a hefty helping of oil from the jug onto his shirt, and thrusts it into the flames.

“Wh-what’s going on out there?” This from Petrik’s tent.

Kellyn pulls back the makeshift torch and spins around just in time to face a wolf launching itself out of the trees.

I scream—I can’t help it. I’ve never been attacked by anything before, and watching Kellyn fight off a drooling beast is terrifying.

It lands just short of his feet, and Kellyn swipes at it with the torch before slamming the point of his longsword into the wolf’s back.

“Stay in your tent, Petrik!” Temra shrieks as more wolves pour out from the trees. They nip at Reya’s shins, and she goes up on her back legs, sending me careening to the ground. Temra puts herself between the three wolves and the horse, slashing at the beasts with Midnight.

One wolf leaps at her, and I force myself not to shut my eyes as I watch her shove the shortsword right through its gaping maw. The tip splits through the back of the beast’s head, and Temra loses her sword as it falls to the ground.

“Here!” Kellyn yells, and he throws the torch at her. She catches it effortlessly and spins to swipe at the next wolf. Meanwhile, the mercenary wields his longsword in two hands, spearing wolves left and right with it.

I watch in awe as my baby sister defends our horse and herself against wolf after wolf with … practiced ease. She presses the end of the fiery torch against one wolf’s shoulder. It howls in pain before retreating through the trees.

And then the torch goes black, the oil running out, Kellyn’s shirt scraps snuffing out with the barest breeze.

A final wolf sprints through the trees, rushing at my sister’s back. I throw myself at her, shoving her to the ground and spinning just in time to catch the full force of the beast. Sharp claws dig into my shoulders, and long teeth snap at my throat. I barely manage to get my hands around the wolf’s neck, pushing with all my might to keep it from making contact.

Goddesses, but it’s heavy. I can barely breathe, spittle and rank breath fill my nose and mouth. I try to roll, to kick, but I can’t find any purchase.

And then the weight is gone.

Kellyn literally kicks it away from me. He jumps over me to follow the creature and finishes it off with his weapon.

And then the clearing goes silent. Nothing but heaving breaths and the sputtering of the little campfire.

“I-is it safe to come out now?” Petrik asks.

I think Temra says something in response, but I don’t hear it, because a shirtless Kellyn is leaning over me and touching my neck.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

And just like that, I can’t breathe again. I’m staring at the muscles in his abdomen, the way they ripple with his exerted breaths, the way the flames send shadowy light across them.

I am on the verge of hysteria, and I need him to give me some space. I don’t want to be rude by shoving him away. Words. I need words.

“My shoulders,” I manage to get out. I can tell the wounds aren’t deep, but they’ll need to be cleaned.

He puts his hands under my arms, helps me to stand as though I were a child, but right now I think I need it.

“I said to stay in the tent!” he suddenly yells at me once I’m upright. “You could have died!”

“I only left because Temra did! Why aren’t you screaming at her?”

“Because she can defend herself. You cannot!”

At that reminder, I round on Temra.

“How can you fight like that?”

She swallows and has the common sense to look guilty. “Just came naturally?” she tries.

Unimpressed with the answer, I cross my arms and wait.

“You know Ankon and Ceren.”

“Yes, you’ve snuck out many times to meet up with them.”

“Right, and you always thought it was for romantic reasons? They’re actually training to be part of the city guard, and I’ve been learning from them … for a few years now.”

My mouth drops open. “But you didn’t say—you let me believe—”

“I didn’t think you’d approve, and I didn’t want you to worry about me.”

She’s been … scuffling with city guards? Honing these skills. “Why?” I ask. “Why did you want to learn to fight?”