Adeya’s eyes were red and swollen from crying as she alighted on the middle landing of the staircase.
The Arc had sunk behind the mountains, leaving the ruined city in the dimness of twilight. Gennen sat on his block. He breathed out long clouds of smoke from his pipe and pressed a blood-spotted handkerchief to his face, all the while staring at where the golem once stood. A dozen Blades like toy figures camped in a semicircle around the canyon now. At the sound of Adeya’s footsteps, he looked up.
“Can’t find him, can you?”
“Wasn’t looking,” she said.
“Come. Have a seat.” He scooched over and patted the block next to him.
She wandered over and slumped down beside him with a sigh.
Gennen took away the cloth from his cheek to examine the blood on it; the cut Kyen had given him stood out as a pink line beneath his eye.
“Would you like something for that?” Adeya asked.
“Nah.” He smiled fondly on the bloody handkerchief. “It’ll match the first one. Do you see it?”
She leaned in to look.
He ran his finger along a hairline scar, below his eye but above the new cut. “Kyen gave me this one, too. He was fourteen. First time with a steel blade. And I pushed him too hard.” Gennen smiled a little. “He missed on purpose. Any other bladepupil would have taken out my eye. To this day, I’m a blazer if I know how he got under my guard.” Taking a long draw from his pipe, he breathed out a whuff of smoke.
“He… he is the best swordsman in all Ellunon,” said Adeya.
“Mm, could be,” he answered. “If anyone can ever get through that blockhead of his...”
“Kyen’s just not like you.” She said. “He’s not like any of you.”
“Of course he’s not!” The blademaster grunted and chomped on his pipestem for another draw. “He’s a throwback. It makes him a nightmare to train.”
“Why does everyone call him that?” She frowned at him.
“Because his blood remembers.” Gennen drew in a long breath and let out a whirl of smoke. “All the people of Avanna are descendants from the greatest warriors of the Firstwold: Avannai and her brother, Tavai. But every few generations, a Blade is born who is unlike the rest of us. It’s as if they’ve stepped out of the past, out of a time before the Breaking. As if they’ve come from the Firstwold itself. I’ve been called a throwback at times myself, and in my great grandfather’s days, throwbacks were held in honor in Avanna. Now, though, most believe it makes you unfit to be a Blade. Makes you weak-hearted and soft.”
“Is that what you think, too?”
“Me? I don’t know what to think anymore. I took it upon myself to train Kyen, but now I doubt I’ll ever finish.” He sighed. “All his skill means nothing if he’s too coward to strike.”
“Kyen’s not a coward…” she said weakly.
“Other Blades wouldn’t hesitate to fell Ennyen if they could,” he said. “But Kyen? He’ll never be a Blade of Avanna at this rate. He’ll never become anything if he keeps closing himself off. His sister, Kilyenne, knew how to talk to him. But since she died in the fall of Avanna, nobody can seem to reach him anymore.” Gennen eyed her. “Well, almost nobody.”
“Don’t look at me. Kyen won’t open up to me either,” said Adeya.
“But he watches you.”
She hugged her knees to her chest. “What good will that do? Ennyen will be back, won’t he?”
“He will. And you’d better not meddle in their battle when he does. Ennyen isn’t an idiot like Oda. You really wouldn’t stand a chance.” Gennen tapped out his pipe, stashed it in his coat, and sat back. “But, perhaps…”
“Perhaps what?”
“Perhaps, you can show Kyen what it means to have courage.”
“But Kyen can’t be a coward...” she said. “He’s the Hero of Ellunon.”
“Everyone is afraid of something, princess. But come!” Gennen rose to his feet. “I will do what I can for you, sworddaughter.”
“More training?” Her face fell.
Gennen hopped off the block. “Time’s short. The Blades and I depart tomorrow. And I’d like to leave you with a last lesson.”
“But I’m sick of fighting! Hasn’t there been enough for one day?” said Adeya, sidling off the block after him.
“No whining, princess!”
She sighed and lagged behind as the spry old man bounded up the stairs.
* * *
Adeya sat with Inen and Wynne on the portico surrounded by a chaos of goats, bundles, and blades. The people of Avanna slung packs on the larger livestock and strapped children to their backs. They hefted their burdens and tightened their boot laces. Bleating, crying, yelling and cussing filled the air while Adeya wrapped a fresh bandage around Inen’s wounded neck. Wynne sat behind her, weaving her long golden tresses into a braid.
“You won’t come with us, Lady Adeya?” asked Inen.
“No.” She tied the bandage off. “Kyen and I are headed to Eope. You’ll need these.” She passed two rolls of bandage into his large paw of a hand. “Have Wynne change them out tomorrow and the next day, won’t you?”
He nodded.
Wynne, a frown creasing her forehead, colored and bent deeper over the last weaves of the braid. Adeya sat back, waiting for her to finish. She surveyed the milling crowd. Gennen approached Nella to take the pack from her shoulders with his usual scowl. The Blade who’d harassed Kyen tried to hold on to the lead lines of five goats pulling him in every direction at once. Little black-haired children dashed around or brandished wooden swords at the adults trying to scoop them up.
Adeya sighed.
“Are you well, Lady Adeya?” asked Inen.
“I am…” She looked over at him. “I was just wondering where you’ll go.”
“Who knows?” said Wynne. “Anywhere and everywhere!”
“We are nomads now, like the highlanders of Bishire,” said Inen.
“Why not find a place to settle in Isea? The cities emptied after the arcangels fell silent,” said Adeya. “If you speak to my father and offer him your service in exchange, I think he’d allow it.”
“Keh! That sounds boring.” Wynne tied off the tail of her braid. “There! Finished!” She seized Adeya by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length to look at her. The elaborate braid started high on her head, weaving her hair into a golden coil that reached her waist.
Adeya patted at it. “Maybe now it’ll stay out of my face! Is it beautiful?”
“Beautiful? You are a bladesister now—you’re only as beautiful as you are deadly!” Wynne shook her by the shoulders, fixing her with an intense stare.
“If you say so.” Adeya laughed.
Oda, shoving his way out of the throng, jogged up to them. “Are you done yet? Gennen said he wanted us on the vanguard an arcquarter ago!”
Inen rose to his feet.
Adeya moved to stand but Wynne seized her in a brief hug. “You’re one of us now. Don’t dishonor the name of Avanna, bladesister.” She shoved herself away and, with a sniff, hurried off into the crowd.
Adeya, looking both ruffled and touched, stared after her in surprise.
“She likes you,” said Inen.
“Goodness knows why! I thought she hated me.” Coming to her feet, Adeya brushed out her skirts, stooped to sling her pack over her shoulder, and adjusted the longsword at her hip. She looked from Oda to Inen. “I don’t suppose—you haven’t seen Kyen have you?”
“No, my lady,” replied Inen.
“Still hiding is he? Coward!” Oda scoffed.
Adeya sighed as she looked over the heads of the Blades and into the ruins. “I’m going to go look for him.”
“You’d do well. There’s a storm fixing to come down off the mountains.” Inen shielded his eyes to look up towards the peak, and Adeya joined him. The head of the mountain, though always ringed by wisps, now hid its head in a thick swirl of cloud that was slowly spreading across the sky even as they watched.
“We should be alright,” said Adeya. “Farewell, if I’m not there to bid you goodbye.”
“May we meet again, my lady Adeya.” Oda grinned wolfishly; Inen elbowed him. “What?”
“May your blade always find its mark!” The larger swordsman put a fist to his heart and bowed.
“Thank you.”
With a parting wave, Adeya set off through the crowd. She pushed through the throng—several of the Blades paused to stand aside for her—and she shimmied through a herd of goats. Exiting the crowd, she headed for the central stair. As she crossed the city circle, a dark, reddish splotch staining the paving stones caught her eye. Old blood. She paused for a moment to gaze on it. With a shudder, she hurried on. Descending the stairs, she passed from the top tier of the city down to the middle landing.
Gennen’s block sat off to the side.
Empty.
She glanced at it. With a rueful smile, she started towards the steps and the bottom tier of the city.
A dozen Blades, leaning against the wall or sitting cross-legged on rubble, guarded the entrance to the canyon. They all looked at her as she reached the bottom pavement.
“You’ve not seen Kyen, have you?” she asked them.
The warriors waggled their heads.
Adeya sighed. She wandered away into the ruins. The Blades and the canyon disappeared behind high walls and broken-topped towers. A silence fell as she walked. She paused to look into the recesses of a dome, having to blink and peer hard into the darkness. Finding it empty, she moved on. She wandered down the street, towers rising high on either side. Ahead, the road ended at the sheer wall of the cliff.
Adeya huffed another sigh as she stopped in the middle of the street. She turned a slow circle, shielding her eyes and squinting up at the white ruins glaring under the afternoon Arc.
One of the towers, standing a floor higher than the others, lifted a cleaved side to the sunlight. A diagonal slice had severed the tower in times past, leaving only a lip of the topmost floor, half of the next, and a gape in the wall of the third. Over the rim of the middle floor dangled a boot.