Blade of Secrets (Bladesmith #1)(50)

“He is what he is. We shouldn’t expect anything more from him. The one thing we can rely on is that he will always do what we need of him if he wants something from us. That should give us some relief.”

“It doesn’t.” The embarrassing part is that I almost thought we were friends. Someone I could finally tolerate having around who wasn’t my sister. I’ve never had that before.

And then he did this.

We may need the mercenary around for our survival, but I give myself full permission to hate him every step of the journey.

“Is it possible,” Temra asks, “that you’re overreacting?”

“How could I ever overreact where your safety is concerned?”

“I just want to make sure you’re not looking for excuses to push him away.”

“What nonsense are you speaking?”

“You were starting to like him. Maybe that scared you a bit.”

I sit up straight. “First of all, I was not starting to like him.” Lie. “Second, liking someone would not scare me.” Probably another lie. “Third, he was talking instead of running, Temra. If he had concerns, then there’s no reason why he couldn’t have brought them up while we were running.”

“I don’t think he’s used to befriending his charges. Bargaining is second nature to him. It’s his job, Ziva.”

“Will. You. Stop. Defending. Him? I want to be angry!”

She raises a hand to cover her mouth. “All right. You be angry. We hate Kellyn. He’s the worst, and if we didn’t need him for protection, we’d send him packing.”

“Thank you.” I inspect her face. “Are you trying to cover up a laugh?”

She keeps the hand in place over her lips. “Never.” The sound comes out strangled.

I return my head to her shoulder, letting the lie slide. A comfortable silence sits between us. I relish in the feel of her alive and breathing beside me.

“I want you to know,” I say, “no matter what happens, I’ll take care of us. You don’t have anything to worry about. I’ll find work in the capital. We’ll rent our own place as quickly as possible. A small apartment, perhaps.”

“We’ll find work,” she corrects me, “and then we’ll rent a bigger apartment. Or perhaps a small townhome at the city’s edge.”

“You don’t have to—” I start.

“Oh, hush, Ziva. I’m going to work, too. You won’t be able to work as a smithy anymore. You won’t be doing what you love or receive as lofty of an income. It’s going to be tough, but we’ll manage it together. Stop trying to take care of me. I’m not a little girl, and you only insult me when you suggest that I won’t be helping with anything.”

I’m so proud of her, even though her words make my heart ache. “Understood.”

I know she’s right. What she suggests sounds perfectly reasonable, but I can’t help but feel as though I’m failing her in some way.

As though I’m failing my parents.





CHAPTER

FOURTEEN



There is now a distinct us and him separation in our group. Petrik, Temra, and I walk a sharp distance behind Kellyn, staring at the horrible man’s back as we walk.

I can’t believe I once thought him handsome. He is now more ugly to me than any other person ever could be.

From his pack, Petrik pulls out what meager food we have when we make camp. One round of soggy bread. Some oats that miraculously stayed dry in their leather pouch, and dried meat.

That’s it.

“It’ll last until we can barter with other travelers on the road,” Kellyn says, for once the optimistic one. Is he trying to get back in our good graces?

It’s not going to work.

“How far is it to the capital?” Temra wants to know.

“Just over a week.”

We get a fire going, and Petrik boils some oats before pulling out his books.

Temra and I stare at the sodden tomes on ancient magic. Though the pages are bloated, the ink still looks mostly intact.

One silent tear slides down the scholar’s cheek. Without a word, Petrik sets to turning the pages close to the fire, letting them dry while he waits for the food to cook. I go to help him. I know what it’s like to lose my life’s work.

Kellyn takes a whetstone to his blade. He opens his mouth occasionally, as though he wishes to say something, then thinks better of it.

Temra approaches the snake, drawing her shortsword. “Let’s go, mercenary.”

“Are you challenging me to a duel?” he asks without humor.

“It’s time for another sparring session.”

The whetstone makes a piercing scritch as Kellyn almost loses his grip on it. “You still want my help honing your skills?”

“Obviously.”

He glances over to where Petrik and I sit. “I thought you all had some private pact not to interact with me.”

Temra smiles. Smiles at the man! “They’re not exactly endeared to you right now, but I need the practice. Prepare me better for the next time I’m outnumbered four to one.”

He grunts before saying, “All right. Let’s go.”

They step away from the fire, finding another clearing a ways off, but they are still within hearing distance.