The swordsman looked so much like Kyen of Avanna that when Adeya saw him she stopped. She peered across the street, catching only glimpses through the passing crowd.
He leaned against the corner of a brick house with his arms crossed over a burnished breastplate. Tall, black-haired, and armed with a longsword, everything about his bearing echoed Kyen. His eyes—the gray eyes of Avanna but as dark as twilight—surveyed the thronged street and found Adeya staring. They narrowed.
“Kyen—” she reached out— “Kyen, look!” Her hand groped empty air. Looking over she found the spot beside her vacant.
Thunder rumbled. The first patter of drops fell from the dark clouds wheeling overhead. The crowd hastened its pace and began to disperse, clearing around another swordsman ambling further down the street. The real Kyen of Avanna—a man also with black hair and gray eyes but gangling in figure—hadn’t noticed the absence of his traveling companion. He walked with his head bowed, his unfocused eyes on the road, oblivious to the rain that was sending others running for shelter.
Adeya huffed when she spotted him. Flinging her golden ponytail over her shoulder, she trotted after him.
“Kyen!”
He didn’t respond when she arrived at his side.
“Kyen? …Kyen!” She grabbed his arm.
“Hm? What?” He looked at her, blinking.
“Look!” She pointed up the street.
The corner stood empty; the townspeople passed it by, all of them hooded and cloaked against the oncoming storm.
“Look at what?” he asked.
“I saw a swordsman. He looked just like you. Like...” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “Like he was from Avanna.”
“So?”
“What do you mean ‘so’? What if he’s from Avanna!”
“Why do you sound surprised?”
“But—but, aren’t you the last?” she said. “When Avanna fell…”
“Did you think I was the only survivor of Avanna?” He smiled a little.
“But he carried a sword!”
“Everyone of Avanna carries a blade, Adeya.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
She pursed her lips. “I think he might have been staring at you.”
“I would have stared at him, too, if I’d seen him.” His smile faded. “It’s not everyday I meet with my own people.”
Thunder rumbled again, loud enough to tremble the ground. Wind rushed in over the red-tiled roofs, whistled between the chimneys, and whipped at their cloaks. The last stragglers in the street cleared away, hunkering down and leaving the two standing alone in the quickening rain.
“Let’s get under cover.” Kyen pulled up his hood and hitched the pack up his shoulder. As he set off down the street, Adeya hung back to give one last look at the empty corner. The cobblestones began to darken as a gray curtain of rain descended. Throwing up her hood, she hurried away.
While the two made for the shelter of an inn, a shape moved on the roof above where the swordsman had been standing. A bird, blacker than the night, emerged from a shadow cast by a chimney. Its long, swan-like neck curled as it watched Kyen and Adeya run underneath the inn’s porch. Without beak, eyes, or feathery crest, the bird’s neck ended on an empty nub—empty but for a mouth crowded with pointed teeth. A hideous grin split the nub-head from end to end as the rain began pounding down in force. The bird sank back into the shadows as Kyen and Adeya shook water off their cloaks and looked out from beneath the porch.
“You won’t be giving me my swordsmanship lesson tonight, I’m guessing?” Adeya, fingering the longsword strapped to her hip, looked to Kyen. He was staring out at the rain, frowning. When his silence stretched on, she spoke up again, “Kyen?”
His frown vanished as he looked at her. “Sorry. What?”
She leaned in to whisper. “Was he talking to you again?”
“It’s—it’s nothing.” He edged away from her, coloring and shifting beneath his cloak.
“What was he saying?”
“Nothing. I’m hungry. Let’s find something to eat.” Turning on his heel, he entered the inn. Adeya huffed a sigh and followed him.
Inside, the square tables—all empty but two at the afternoon’s early hour—crowded the room. A brick hearth stood cold on one wall. Savory smells wafted from an open door at the other. The rain streamed down behind them when they walked in, hiding the world beyond the doorway in a haze. An aproned man with a patchy beard approached.
“Welcome,” he said. “Will you be staying?”
“Two for tonight, if you will. And a meal.” Kyen pushed back his hood.
“It’s three coin.”
Both Adeya and Kyen looked at each other.
“I don’t have any coin,” he said.
“Oh… I forgot my purse back at Isea Palace,” she said. “But, no matter…” She drew herself up, folded her hands on her skirts, and addressed the innkeeper. “I am Adeya, Princess and Sole Heiress to the Throne of Isea. You may send all expenses to my parents, the King and Queen of Isea.”
The innkeeper stared for a moment then threw back his head and laughed. “I’m sure you are, dearie, but I don’t run tabs. Coin before food and bed, that’s my policy. Even for King Veleda himself.”
Adeya glared and opened her mouth, but the innkeeper spoke first.
“I’m not above bartering, dearie, if you’ve other valuables. Such a necklace fetches a high price up north.” He eyed the aquamarine pendant at her neck. “Pass me that, and I’ll give you room, board, and then some for your journey onward.”
Her hand leapt to the pendant. “My summoner’s amulet? How dare you! My nana gave me this! I’d never—”
“Could we barter a service for room and board instead?” Kyen cut in.
The innkeeper rubbed a bare patch on his chin until his fingers found a whisker to pluck at. “Well…my cook’s short a scullery maid. Keep up on evening dishes, and you can help yourself to leftovers and kip the night in a bed, if there’s one spare.”
“I—don’t—wash—dishes!” Adeya swelled.
“Pardon us a moment.” Kyen grabbed her elbow and, after a few tugs, pulled her aside.
She made little “Ah!”s of indignation in her throat and cast a black look at the innkeeper. Kyen opened his mouth to speak, but she ran him over with a furious undertone.
“How dare he! How can he be so rude? Doesn’t he know who I am? My parents are going to hear of this.”
Kyen waved her down with both hands until she stood, huffing and glaring at him, but silent.
“Adeya, most innkeepers wouldn’t offer half so much.”
“Why don’t you have—” She stopped and leaned forward to whisper. “Have him make us some? Just enough coin for tonight.”
He shook his head.
“Why not? I know arcangels can,” she said. “Creation is one of their three powers. Will you at least ask him?”
Kyen looked up at the ceiling as if for help then, with a sigh, he returned his attention to Adeya. “You should’ve remembered to pack your purse.”
“But—”
“He said it, not me!” Kyen held up his hands. “Besides, he can’t. Well, he can, but he won’t. He can only do so much on his own power. He prefers to save himself for when he’s needed. Fiends could find us at any time, remember?”
“He’d just let us sleep outside? In the rain?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he said. “A little damp doesn’t hurt.”
“Damp and cold! We could get sick!”
“Dishes here for a bed and a meal. Or a stable loft elsewhere—maybe. And if not that, then…” He cast a look out the window at the pouring rain. She followed his gaze and slumped.
“I’m in favor of a bed and a meal,” he said. “But what do you want to do?”
“Oh, very well.” Adeya sighed. “But I don’t know how to wash dishes.”