Kyen stood riveted in place with his head hung, his face shadowed.
Throughout the square, from the shepherds to the washerwomen, everyone dropped to their knees and placed a fist to their chest. Inen, Wynne, and Odallyan sneered but reluctantly bowed also.
The only one left standing was Adeya. She stared in wide-eyed shock, gaping.
A deafening silence had replaced the rustle of kneeling bodies.
All at once, Kyen bolted. His footsteps rang out as he fled across the circle and into the ruins.
Gennen returned to his feet and as he did, everyone else in the square rose also. Most returned to their tasks. Many sent uncertain glances down the road after Kyen. Gennen and Adeya exchanged looks; his hard and serious, Adeya’s slack with disbelief. Without a word between them, she turned and ran after Kyen.
She reached the street as the flap of his cloak disappeared around the corner. She sprinted after him.
“Kyen! Kyen, wait!”
Running deeper into the ruins, she found herself in a labyrinth of broken towers and tumbled stone. Kyen’s footsteps were receding into their stillness; they seemed to echo from every direction at once.
“Kyen!” She dashed further down the street, pausing to glance up the dim alleys. “Kyen?”
Nothing moved. His footsteps became fainter and fainter. The street ended at the sheer rise of the cliff, and when she reached its base, she paused, listening, but the stillness had taken over. Nothing moved.
“Kyen?”
The quiet of the ruins swallowed the echo of her voice.
She put a hand to her mouth to call again but hesitated. She lowered it.
“Kyen,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Don’t leave.” With her eyes running up and down the ruins, she turned a slow circle. Her gaze stopped.
A stairway with a cracked balustrade waited at the end of one alley. She gripped her amulet and headed for it. Following it down, she descended into the middle tier of the city. Broken pillars stood tall over crumbled walls, reaching for roofs long since caved in. The outlines of round chambers, their foundations bigger than the common hall in some places, sat low in piles of rubble.
Morning passed to afternoon while Adeya wandered, peering into dark recesses and clambering over ruins. Rounding the curve of an old wall, she found herself at the middle landing of the central staircase. Above, the stairs led to the common hall, below to the golem-guarded entrance. Beside the stair on a pale, weathered block sat Gennen. With his legs crossed, he puffed on his pipe. His narrow eyes fixed the entrance to the city below.
Adeya started to back away when he looked up at her, and they stared at one another. Little clouds from his pipe drifted to the wind.
“Well?” he said. “Come over. It’s not like I have fangs, princess.”
She crossed the landing but stopped, keeping an arm’s length out of Gennen’s reach.
Taking his pipe from his mouth, he tapped it out on the rock and muttered to himself. “Disgusting Veleda habit. I don’t know how I picked it up, and I don’t know how to put it back down.” He twiddled it between his fingers as he eyed Adeya up and down, waiting.
She plucked at the fringe of her sleeve.
“Didn’t find him, did you?”
“No.” Her shoulders slumped. “Did you?”
“The boy’s harder to find than a treejack in a timberland.” With a huff, he glared down the stairs. “I’m done chasing him.”
“That’s why you and the others came looking for him, isn’t it? He’s to be king of Avanna.”
“He never told you, did he?”
“Kyen’s not much of one for answering questions.” She lowered her eyes.
“That’s very like him.”
“Are—are you sure there’s not been some mistake?”
“Kyen is the eldest son of Odyen, King of Avanna. I’ve known him since he was first in swaddling clothes. There’s no mistaking him.” Gennen sighed. When he looked up again, his pale eyes glinted with a ferocity. “And what about you? What are you to him, princess? It breaches honor for a Blade to travel alone with an unmarried woman.”
She bristled. “I am a summoner in training, searching for the arcangels. As I had no other escort, Kyen offered to protect me. I’m sure you’re aware the summoners of Isea are sworn to celibacy?”
The glint in Gennen’s eyes turned into a sparkle as he smiled at her speech. “Kyen’s sense of honor has always been as sure as the mountains.”
“And you?” she shot back. “You said you’re his teacher of some sort—a blademaster?”
“Aye, his blademaster. At least, I tried to be.” He chomped on the stem of his pipe. “Kyen quit on me.”
“It’s not like Kyen to quit,” she said.
“It’s not.” He agreed.
“Then, what happened?”
“As a boy, Kyen failed the Retributioner’s Test. Twice,” said Gennen. When Adeya kept staring at him, uncomprehending, he continued, “To earn the right to practice with a steel blade, a pupil has to prove he or she can kill a man. Don’t worry, princess,” he added, seeing her look of horror. “The first was a thief. Students are tested against criminals already sentenced to death. It’s the best way to weed out those unfit for the battlefield. No blademaster would accept a student too soft to kill a man.”
“But you did?” asked Adeya.
“More the fool I am for it,” he growled. “The Council wouldn’t agree to my finishing Kyen’s training unless he earned his sword first. Schemers for the throne took advantage. Ennyen at their head challenged Kyen’s right to become king—a disgrace in itself; no one should challenge a crown prince until after his bladeday—but the Council approved it. If Kyen defeated and killed Ennyen, the Council would grant him his sword. If Ennyen won, Kyen would lose his life, and Ennyen would take the position of crown prince.”
“And Kyen lost?”
“Kyen never lost,” he said. “He beat Ennyen but refused to kill him, just as he refused to kill the thief. The Council erupted. Kyen came to me afterwards. Told me he’d decided to quit his training as a warrior, and he vanished from Avanna the next day. Then, Avanna fell, taking the Council and its mess with it before anything could be sorted out.”
“How could they be that unfair to Kyen?” said Adeya.
Gennen smiled at her. “Does Isea have no injustice?”
She shut her mouth.
“Kyen has no idea what’s riding on his shoulders,” he said, grinding his teeth on his pipe stem. “Fool, coward boy.”
“Kyen’s not a coward!” she cried. “You’re just afraid that if Ennyen wins, all the remnant of Avanna will follow him.”
“The remnant of Avanna can jump off the Brink, for all I care.” He growled. “My concern is for Ellunon. I’ll not live forever to keep the Blades in check. They need a leader.”
“Well, then, who cares if Kyen passes some stupid test?” she said. “He’s the best swordsman in Ellunon, even if he’s not some Blade of Avanna. He’s more right to his sword than you do!”
Gennen looked at her with wide-eyed surprise, taking the pipe from his mouth.
Adeya, drawing herself up, glared back.
He threw back his head and laughed. “I like you, princess. You’ve got some fire in you.”
She deflated with a huff.
“You’re right. You’re very right,” he said, still smiling; but it faded. “You best be off, if you’re to tell him that. You’ve a lot of ground to cover in order to find Kyen before nightfall. He’s mastered disappearing, if nothing else.”
Adeya, still eyeing him angrily, started down the steps.
Gennen waved her along with the stem of his pipe. He smiled to himself as he watched her go.