Hettie folded her arms.
“Remember who my employers were. I was hired by the Paracelsus to protect them, not to count people entering the gates. If any are suspicious, I do not let them pass. Tyrus’s nephew came recently. So did you,” He nodded at Hettie. “And so did a Kishion. He is known as the Quiet Kishion, a very dangerous man. I knew that someday I may be called on to protect my masters from him. With that possibility, I began to study what I could of him, including where he was trained. All Kishion come from Kenatos originally, but they leave the city for special training. Not many know this. Few even bother asking, but I made it a point to ask and then listen. If you want to know something, you eventually find a way to discover it. I learned from a man who knows the Archivists that the Kishion are trained along the coast. They said there was an old Bhikhu temple there called Shatalin. It is built on a cliff along the sea, south of Lydi. The only way to get there is by ship and climbing up very steep steps carved into the rock. The coast is known for recurring fog, so the monastery is shrouded most of the time.”
Baylen rubbed his meaty hands together. “It gets worse. The one who trains them is blind. Those who are trained are blindfolded, forced to learn combat without sight. They say that looking at the blind master’s eyes will turn you into stone. So again, I ask you: Why are you going there?”
Paedrin swallowed. “Rumors or truth?” he asked the Cruithne.
“I wouldn’t know.”
Paedrin glanced at Hettie and saw the fresh concern in her eyes. Her expression was veiled, but he could see the worry. She stroked her hand through her hair, gazing at him, lips pursed.
Standing, Paedrin faced the Cruithne. “The Arch-Rike already knows what I am after. He knows because I once wore a Kishion ring and he heard Tyrus give me instructions.”
Baylen’s eyebrows lifted, but his expression was bland. “Those rings don’t come off without killing the wearer.”
“I speak the truth. I seek a blade—a sword. It is called the Sword of Winds. It is a weapon of power that will be used in the Scourgelands. Master Shivu also charged me to restore the Shatalin temple. The master there is known as Cruw Reon. I will defeat him.”
There was a long silence as Baylen studied him, his expression continued to be bland, no hint of surprise. “Have you ever faced a Kishion before?”
“Twice. I failed both times.”
“You lived. That is better than most. What makes you think you can defeat the blind master?”
Paedrin folded his arms. “Because I am not blind and I will have the sword when I face him. I trust you, Baylen. I may be a foolish Vaettir. Or maybe you have proven yourself as thoroughly as you can. You are welcome to join us. A question for you now: Have you ever faced a Kishion?”
Baylen shook his head. “No, but I did pull one out of a pile of rubble in the courtyard of the Paracelsus Towers. I imagine they are difficult to kill.”
“I would imagine. Being a Bhikhu, killing one isn’t my goal. Thank you for your aid.”
The Cruithne shrugged and then squeezed out the door again, shutting it noisily behind him.
Hettie sighed. “Why do I feel like Tyrus is sending the goose with a message to the fox’s den?”
He looked at her askance. “A goose, am I?”
“You honk like one, letting the whole world know the direction you are flying.”
Paedrin smiled broadly. “I may honk like a goose, but notice I did not reveal your part.”
What the Cruithne said was true. The cliffs and the sea were shrouded in fog. Paedrin and Hettie stood above deck, smelling the salty air, feeling the moist kiss of the mist on their faces. The sound of waves crashing against stones haunted the air, but they could not see the breakers. The waters were green-gray, full of froth, and pungent, so different than the smell of the lake waters of Kenatos. The wind brought sounds from many directions, the slosh of water against the hull, the spray of the waves against rocks, the cries from gulls overhead. Paedrin leaned against the railing, staring into the fog, his stomach knotting with nervous energy. Baylen’s words had unsettled him, but he was determined not to let them ruin his courage. Master Shivu would not have trusted this to him without believing in him.
Hettie leaned next to him. “I still don’t trust him.”
“You can have your opinions. Leave me to mine.”