Blade of Secrets (Bladesmith #1)(70)

With the cover of darkness, none of the city dwellers are able to see our faces. No one calls out to us or steps into our path. In fact, the few Briskans out and about don’t even seem startled by the sight of a company sprinting down alleyways at night, which doesn’t speak well for the city.

The exercise warms my previously chilled limbs, and freedom warms my scared heart.

The captain will be very disappointed when he visits the prison tomorrow morning. No retirement for him.





CHAPTER

NINETEEN



Before delivering us to the prison, the captain and his men stole anything of value we had, and they left Petrik’s books lying in the street. We’re now on the road for what feels like the thousandth time with nothing except the clothes on our backs, the weapons at our sides, and the company we keep.

After half the night has passed, when we’re certain no one is following us, we finally stop.

Petrik bends over and puts his hands on his knees. Kellyn promptly slams his own fist into the nearest tree.

“Whoa!” Petrik says, standing and backing away from the other man.

I rush over to the mercenary and grab his hand to inspect it. He’s broken the skin over every knuckle, wells of blood pooling and smearing down his fingers.

“Those posters will be all over Ghadra by next week. Clearly Kymora is sending things faster than we can travel, so she’s using carrier pigeons. We won’t be safe anywhere! I can’t work. I can’t live.”

The anger isn’t directed at anyone in particular, but an angry Kellyn is a sight to behold.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I cradle his hand in mine.

His face softens as he looks at me. “I’m not angry with you.”

“I know, but this is still my fault.”

“Let’s get something straight right now.” He moves his injured hand so it’s now gripping one of mine. The anger from before still laces his words, giving them extra force. “You are not responsible for any of this. You were doing your job. Something you do very well. The sword is not evil in and of itself. In the hands of a just ruler, it could protect a whole kingdom. What’s evil are the intentions of the ones who would use it to do anything other than protect. You do not get to put the fate of the world on your shoulders. You’re not that important.”

I feel my mouth open and close like a fish’s.

“He’s right,” Temra says unhelpfully.

I step away from Kellyn, thinking over his words. Is it truly not my fault? That the world is at stake? That my sister is in danger?

Is it even possible to take the guilt and blame from me?

I don’t know if I can do that, even if it is true. I don’t know how. I still feel guilty. I still feel responsible for everything that’s happened, and it’s still up to me to make things right.

We’re all quiet now, aimlessly traversing the road. I’m not even sure which direction we’re headed anymore. In Lirasu, I could always use the mountains to tell which way was south. I miss that. Such a simple thing, but it grounded me always.

After a few seconds, Kellyn says, “We can’t go to Galvinor anymore. You guys would never make it through another city, nor is there any hope you could hire a crew without being recognized.”

“Then what do we do?” I ask.

Kellyn purses his lips, shakes his head, lets out a loud breath—like he’s arguing silently with himself. “I know a place we can lie low for a while. We’ll be safe. We can rethink everything then.”

I want to believe him, but we haven’t been safe anywhere. Not with our father’s mother, not in the big cities, not on the road. Everywhere we go, there’s danger.

The safest we’d ever been was honestly in that prison cell.

I freeze in place as an idea comes to me.

“Kellyn, I think I know what to do with the sword. I might know how to keep it safe permanently. I—I need access to a forge.”

“Great. There’s one in Amanor.”

“Amanor?”

“Where my family lives.”



* * *



Kellyn explains that Amanor is a small village in Prince Skiro’s Territory. “It isn’t located off any main road. It’s not on many maps, either.”

“How do you know we’ll be safe there?” I ask. “Kymora knows you’re involved. Won’t she be able to find your family?”

“I don’t see how she could. I don’t advertise where I’m from. I haven’t told anyone where my family resides, let alone that I have one settled somewhere. Excluding you, of course.”

“What about your surname? Derinor. Can’t she ask around? Is there any chance at all she could track us to Amanor?”

“There’s always a chance. But Derinor is a common surname. And she’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who could point her to Amanor. Besides, if my family is in danger from her, I should be there to protect them.”

We’re only on the main road for another few days before we veer down what looks more like a deer trail than a road. If I thought the forest looked thick from the main road, it’s nothing compared to how it is now that we’re wrapped in it. The trees are so close together that the only path we could possibly take is the already-made trail.