Blade of Secrets (Bladesmith #1)(45)

Kellyn sets down his drink. “I didn’t realize it was so serious.”

“It is, and I’m scared.”

Maybe it’s foolish to admit to him, but it’s the truth.

“Is it impossible to mask when you’re doing magic?”

I shrug. “Depends on how the magic turns out.”

“You don’t perform the magic until near the end, and it’s a one-time occurrence, yes? It’s not like glowing light is coming from your fingers the whole time or whatever?”

“Right. But what if someone sees?”

“I could come with you,” he offers. “Be with you in the forge while you’re working. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

I swallow, try for honesty. “I don’t know if I could work with you watching.”

“Me specifically? Or anyone watching in general?”

The answer is somehow both.

But I’m still warmed by his words. He’ll protect me? He’ll spend his days just sitting in the forge with me? Keeping me safe? No one but Temra has ever done that.

“I’ll even scare away anyone who tries to interrupt you,” he offers when I don’t answer his question.

I look up into those golden-brown eyes, framed by golden-red hair. How does this boy understand me so well so quickly? Is he really so observant all the time? Or is he somehow just so observant with me? Or does he just really, really want that sword?

That’s far more likely.

But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve come to feel slightly more comfortable around him. It’s not perfect. He still makes me nervous at times, but I chose to come here, didn’t I? That’s huge for me.

And despite not enjoying being around people, I like him.

I almost forgot about all the other bodies in the tavern while we were talking. Kellyn has that way about him. A way of making me focus on him and forget about everything else.

But I notice when the doors to the tavern open and a figure comes running inside.

Petrik does a sweep of the room before his eyes land on me, and he races over. He’s juggling the bundle of weapons, Secret Eater among them. He has his pack full of books on his back.

“We—have—to—hurry,” he says between heaving breaths. Did he run all the way here from the estate?

“What is it?” I ask. “Is Temra okay?”

“We—have—to—save—her.”

At that, my heart stops. The world goes quiet for two beats, before everything starts back up, seemingly faster than before.

“What happened? Does she have her?” My voice cracks at the last word.

Petrik takes a few quick breaths before spitting out, “Yes, your grandmother. She’s convinced Temra has magic. They’re going to kill her for the Goddesses.”

“What?” When I said she, I actually meant Kymora, but I’m glad Petrik mistakes my meaning.

“Volanna has your uncles helping her. I saw them confront Temra and then take her away. I suspect they’re going to the church. I knew I couldn’t stop them on my own. I came as quickly as I could and brought these to help.”

“Let’s go.” I race after Petrik but stop after a few steps.

The mercenary isn’t following.

“What are you doing?” I snap. “I said let’s go.”

Kellyn has a pained expression as he looks at me.

“We can’t take on so many people by ourselves,” he says. “It’d be suicide.”

“We’ll worry about that when we get to the church!” I say.

He stares into my eyes for a few more seconds before sighing. “I normally get paid for this kind of idiocy.”

It takes me a moment to process his words, I’m so outraged. Then I reach into my clothing, find my coin purse, and hurl it at him. It hits Kellyn in the head before landing on the floor.

I don’t watch to see if he’ll pick it up. I follow Petrik through the streets, running as fast as I can. I hear steps behind me shortly, and I allow myself a moment of relief as I realize Kellyn’s following. Petrik fumbles with the weapons stash, so I take it from him. It’s awkward with the staff and spear sticking out so far on either end.

“Petrik, take the staff and spear.”

He does so, running with one in either hand.

I toss the shortsword to Kellyn, who catches it and doesn’t ask any questions as I tie Secret Eater around my waist. I have no intention of using this cursed weapon, but I’ll be more useful if my hands are free. The weapon pulls heavily at me, but I only push my legs harder against the extra weight.

Then I take the shortsword back from the mercenary.

We race across town, not caring who we step on or send careening to the ground. If they’re in our way, they get plowed over. I don’t care. Nothing matters except Temra.

She can’t be hurt.

She can’t be—

She has to be okay.

I send a prayer up to Ebanarra, to Tasminya, to whoever might be listening. Save my sister and I’ll do anything. Anything.

The steep incline is the worst part. The ground rises as we run away from the fjords, toward the east end of the city. But I welcome the pain, the burn in my legs. I’ll take any punishment if it means I get to keep my sister.

“What’s the plan?” Kellyn asks.