‘Because of my scar,’ Kenton said, his voice low and brooding. ‘She was disgusted by it. I don’t think she ever looked at me after that.’
The knot in Annev’s gut grew tighter. It was everything he feared about Myjun and didn’t want to acknowledge: if she would shun Kenton because of a scar, how would Annev fare when she discovered his missing limb?
She can’t ever know, he realised – that was the only way: she could never know.
‘You were only fourteen,’ Annev said, seizing control of his emotions, ‘and you said Myjun only attended classes for six months. You couldn’t have been that close.’
He said no more, but the question was implied; Annev waited for a response, and when he didn’t get one, he dared to glance at his companion.
Kenton’s eyes bored into him. ‘Did you know the witwomen use herbs to avoid falling pregnant?’
Annev flinched, instinctively tugging the reins. His horse slowed and Kenton passed him.
‘Like I said,’ Kenton breathed, ‘we all have reasons to hate each other.’ And before Annev could reply, the dark-haired avatar spurred his horse ahead to catch up with Fyn.
Chapter Fifty-Four
They reined their horses in beside a single gnarled oak hidden in the shadows of the city wall, encircled by a clump of sweet ferns. Less than five hundred yards ahead, Annev could see the closed eastern gate. He gestured to his companions and the three of them dismounted, tethering their horses and silently checking their equipment.
While Kenton shed his cloak and strapped his tachi to his back, Annev checked his shortsword and axe were safely belted to his hips, avoiding eye contact with Kenton. Instead, he looked at Fyn and saw the Master of Arms had come prepared: metal bracers concealing throwing knives encircled his forearms, a double-coiled garrotte and two pouches hung securely from his belt, and two three-foot-long flanged maces were strapped to his back. Annev shook his head as Fyn also strapped on a pair of spiked elbow pads and leather gloves.
‘I thought we agreed on stealth?’
Fyn lashed the phoenix lantern to his belt. ‘I train every day. I can be just as stealthy with them as without.’
Annev very much doubted that, but he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. There was already too much tension in the air, and he didn’t want it turning to dissension. ‘Fine. But I want my lantern back when this is all done.’
‘Sure,’ Fyn said, patting the block of wood. ‘Though if things go sour under your watch, I’m giving it to Tosan so I can still pass my Test of Competency.’
‘Fantastic,’ Annev said, though he felt like strangling his companion. They both hate me … and if I’m honest, I don’t much like them. He shook his head, thinking it was a miracle they had got this far and wondering if he could keep his team together long enough to accomplish their mission. They both trotted over to Kenton, who stood at the base of the city wall, squinting at its stone blocks.
‘What is it?’ Annev asked, anxious.
‘These stones – they’re not flush. What’s the point of building a wall if you’re going to stagger the blocks half an inch?’ He shook his head, disgusted.
Fyn looked up at the wall. ‘It’s practically a staircase. Looks easier than the Academy’s climbing wall.’
Annev nodded, though he still felt nervous. From this side of the barrier, the sound of the city’s Regaleus celebration seemed distant. He wiped his sweaty palms on his black trousers and gripped the disjointed stones with his fingertips. In his peripheral vision, he saw the other boys do the same. Without a word, they each wedged their soft-soled leather boots into the mortared crevices and hoisted themselves upward.
Annev reached the top in less than a minute, a black shadow that dropped over the short parapet and blended into the darkness beside Kenton. True to his word, Fyn managed the ascent without any of his weapons clanging about, and he dropped next to Annev a few seconds later. They crouched in the shadows and then slowly stood to gaze at the foreign city stretching before them.
From above, Banok was a mass of sloping rooftops packed together so tightly that the alleys below were practically tunnels. Unlike Chaenbalu’s street plan of concentric circles bisected by two roads, Banok had several dozen streets and alleys – some wide enough to be thoroughfares, some so narrow they were almost invisible – all criss-crossing each other in a confusing maze of angles and dead ends.
Though the majority of buildings were single-storey, some rose two storeys high and a handful were higher still. The largest by far was part palace, part castle, and almost as large as the Academy – though without the accompanying sombre grey architecture, it was far less intimidating. The enormous sandstone keep stood a good distance from the centre of town, which seemed to be the focus of the Regaleus festivities; crowds of Banok’s citizens had gathered round large bonfires and were either drinking, laughing, making music, or doing some combination of the three. There were also a few men in uniforms at the edge of the celebrations – the city watch, Annev guessed.
‘Is that it?’ he asked, pointing to the sandstone keep.
‘It matches Master Keyish’s description. He says Janak keeps guards posted day and night at all the entrances, and patrolling most of the hallways.’
Fyn shrugged. ‘No problem. That’s what this is for.’ He lovingly patted his garrotte.
‘Are you really that eager to kill someone?’ Annev asked, a bit unsettled by Fyn’s cavalier demeanour. ‘It’s not that easy to take a life.’
‘Maybe it’s hard if you’ve spent half your life training to be a priest,’ Fyn retorted. ‘But that’s not me – I was made for this.’
Annev let the argument go. ‘Fine, but stealth is still our first option. A missing guard will be noticed, and we don’t want anyone investigating, especially not if we’re still exploring the palace. Sneak in and sneak out without alerting anyone.’ Fyn folded his arms, but he didn’t object. ‘Master Kenton, what’s our path?’
‘We go straight over the rooftops,’ the boy said. ‘We’ll be out of the firelight, but away from the gate and any sentries.’
‘Great. Fyn, you’ve got the lantern. Do you still want to take point?’
Fyn snorted. Rather than answering, he spun and leapt backwards off the wall, grabbing the ledge as he fell and then pushing off with his feet and hands. He flipped into the darkness and softly landed on the roof of the nearest building.
‘Follow me if you can.’