Kyen lifted his palm from Adeya’s hair.
The cook hung her apron on a peg. The door creaked open and clacked shut behind her as she left the kitchen.
“Oh…” Adeya stared with unfocused eyes, looking pale. She grabbed out at Kyen as her knees unhinged. He caught her by the elbows and helped her to a chair.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Maybe I should have warned you. It’s a little jarring.”
Adeya sat down, gripping his arm with a shaking hand. “I’ve never… That was incredible!” She looked up at him. “Kade was trapped…in you?”
He nodded.
“Did you know?”
“Not until years later,” he said. “Kade started breaking out. I thought I was going crazy at first.”
“Then the others? Maer, Lode, and Fael?”
His face fell. “Kade says it’s hard to know. Whatever befell the arcangels never finished its work on Kade because of Maer and Lode. He has no hope that either of them survived. We’ve looked for Fael and the others.”
“Is he free now? Kade?” she asked. “Or is he...”
“He broke out completely just before the fall of Avanna.”
“Yet he’s still with you? After all this time?”
“Mortal bodies somehow mask him, particularly against fiends. He asked for my help. To hide him while we searched for the other arcangels. I agreed.”
“And that’s all you know?”
He nodded.
“Finding the other arcangels is going to be harder than I expected.” She rubbed her forehead where Kyen’s palm had lain.
Both of them fell silent until a growl from Kyen’s stomach interrupted.
“Do you think we can eat yet?” He looked at the last couple of dirty pots.
“We’d better finish, I suppose.” She rose with a sigh.
Lightning flashed through the window, and thunder cracked. Adeya jumped in fright onto Kyen’s arm, staring wide-eyed out the window.
“It can’t hurt you in here.” He laughed a little and, wiggling out of her grip, draped the damp towel on her head. “Come on. We’re almost done, and I’m starving!”
* * *
At one of the common room tables, Kyen perched on the edge of his seat while Adeya examined her pruney fingers. Patrons lingered over mugs of ale, their conversation a low mumble in the stuffy atmosphere. The innkeeper, watched eagerly by Kyen, carried a platter to their table. On it sat two heels of bread and a tureen of cold peas porridge lumpy with burnt scrapings from the pan. Kyen pulled the platter over as the innkeeper walked away.
“I’m so hungry.” He sliced one of the heels in two and spooned on porridge.
Adeya laid her hands in her lap with a sigh. “When I’m home, I will summon the scullery maids to my chamber every night to thank them personally. I never knew eating created such a mess!”
Kyen balanced his second slice of bread atop the first. He held up the peas porridge sandwich to admire it. She shook her head at him and pulled the platter over. As she spooned porridge into a bowl, the door to the outside opened, catching her eye. Her spoon halted mid-scoop.
The swordsman who looked like Kyen had entered the common room. Dripping and leaving wet boot prints behind, he approached the innkeeper and spoke, his low tones indistinguishable through the murmur of the room’s conversation.
“Kyen. It’s him.”
“Him who?” Kyen, about to take a bite of his sandwich, followed her gaze. When he saw the other swordsman, his eyes grew wide. The color drained from his face, and he wilted in his seat. “Oh no.”
“What is it?” She whispered, watching the innkeeper lead the swordsman to table a span away from them. “That’s the man I told you about in the street—” She looked over; Kyen’s chair was empty, his sandwich abandoned. “Kyen? Where—what are you—?”
“Sh!” He said from where he crouched beneath the table.
“What are you doing?”
“Don’t give me away!”
Adeya straightened. She pretended to stir the tureen.
“I’m going to retire. Excuse me.” His whisper floated up. He crawled away, slinking from under one empty table to another. Darting out, he hid behind a couple patrons headed towards the stairs, walking with them until they stopped to give him irritated looks. Then, he dashed the last stretch to vanish up the steps.
Adeya, glancing to see him gone, shook her head at the tureen. She swirled the porridge around and fixed her attention on her bowl, watching the swordsman from the corner of her eye.
He took off his sopping cloak, hung it on an empty chair, and settled down to his table. When a servant girl placed a tankard in front of him, he thanked her without warmth. He took a deep drink. Resting a hand on the pommel of his sword, he looked around the common room but offered no conversation to any of the nearby patrons.
Letting him be, Adeya finished her meal by herself and without incident. She tied up Kyen’s untouched sandwich in a napkin for him. As she rose, she stole one last glance at the swordsman. She tensed.
His dark gaze watched her, a gaze callous, calculating. She locked eyes with him for a long moment. Shaking herself, she whirled away and hurried towards the stairs. She collided with the innkeeper at the bottom in her haste.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!”
“Where be you off to?”
“Will you show me where I can sleep?”
“Aye that, follow me.” He led her up upstairs.
The swordsman’s eyes followed her out of the room. He set down his tankard and rose to leave.