‘Yes. Here we are.’
They stood in awkward silence for a moment as he tried to think of something else to say.
‘So … will you be at this evening’s Regaleus sermon?’
‘Of course! That’s when I get to see you in your clerical robes. I love that. Much better than the dirty uniforms the masters make you wear.’
Annev nodded, unsure if Myjun was commenting on his status as an acolyte or the actual cleanliness of his wardrobe. ‘I definitely get to dress up.’
‘Oh! That reminds me.’ Myjun shifted the sandals to her other arm and fumbled in her pocket. ‘I have something for you.’ Then, from the soft folds of her white apron, she drew out a long piece of red and gold cloth.
A glove.
‘I made it for you.’ Annev could feel a huge smile spreading over his face as she held it out. ‘Happy Regaleus.’
Annev slowly took the glove from her. It was made of bright crimson cloth. A fiery golden tail began above the elbow, its yellow threads spiralling around the arm and into the body of the phoenix emblazoned on the forearm. The bird’s face was stitched on the back of the hand, beak agape, tongue flickering up the left thumb.
‘It’s beautiful. Thank you. I have something for you, too, for the last day of Regaleus.’
Myjun’s smile blossomed. ‘Thanks – and I’m so glad you like it. I wasn’t sure if I should make you one or two, but you seem to wear one on your left hand a lot more.’ Annev shyly rubbed his gloved hand, surprised Myjun had noticed, then her lips puckered into a tiny pink frown. ‘Faith says you wear one glove because you burned your hand at the Academy and they make you hide it – like with Kenton’s scar.’
‘No,’ Annev said carefully. ‘No burns or scars.’
‘I know. At least, I know your hand isn’t disfigured.’ She bit her lip and there was a glint of mischief in her eye as she reached out and touched his gloved hand, tracing his fingertips before carefully tugging the garment off.
Annev gasped as his naked hand slid free, then he fought the urge to cover it. Myjun smiled, caressing his bare skin as she carefully turned his hand over in hers.
‘See. Painless. Maybe one of these days I can check the rest?’
Annev ducked his head, flustered, and Myjun sensed it, taking the opportunity to slide her phoenix glove over Annev’s left hand. A perfect fit.
‘It’s lovely,’ he said again.
Myjun nodded, releasing him. ‘Anyway, I knew your hand wasn’t scarred after that day behind the bakery. I told Faith that – said your hand was fine – but she won’t believe me till she sees it herself.’ She shook her head, and Annev felt the first stirrings of unease. ‘It’s so shameful to see someone disfigured,’ Myjun continued, ‘but Faith loves gossip. It’s like Sraon’s eye. Father says if he weren’t the only blacksmith in the village, the council would have thrown him out years ago. It would be easier if his apprentice was any good, but apparently he can barely bend metal – only fit for striking work, you know – and now Father says he’s been botching that as well.’ She tsked, oblivious to Annev’s discomfort. ‘So for now we have to rely on a marked one for our smithing. Hard to fathom we haven’t found anyone more suitable than Sraon after over a decade, but there it is.’
Annev shook his head slowly, his fingers creeping up to tug at the phoenix glove. ‘Sraon does good work. Besides, he lost his eye fighting monsters from the Cunnart Isle. He’s told me the story a hundred times. There’s nothing shameful in his injury.’
‘Of course there is, Annev,’ Myjun said matter-of-factly, and slowly began walking towards the Academy. Annev followed, his eyes drawn to her even as he cringed at her words. ‘It’s a sign from Odar. His way of revealing Children of Keos in disguise.’ She flicked her head, tossing her long brown hair over her shoulder and causing the sun to reflect its red highlights. ‘It says a lot that you would defend him – let alone befriend him. You’re kind like that … but you should be careful. My father says the Children of Keos are deceitful, always hiding their true nature, preying on the kindness of others. It worries me that Sraon talks with you about his life before Chaenbalu but doesn’t share those stories with others. Don’t you find that odd?’
‘Well …’ Myjun’s brow crinkled as she waited in earnest to hear Annev’s opinion. He swallowed. ‘He hasn’t said all that much to me. Just that he learned smithing in Odarnea. And fought keokum on the Cunnart Isle.’
Myjun tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. ‘How do you know he’s telling the whole truth?’ She paused, lowering her voice. ‘He’s been marked by Odar. Maybe he actually led the ogres out of Cunnart so that they could eat Darite babies.’
Annev laughed. ‘That’s silly. He’s a good man, Myjun. I see him every Seventhday.’
‘He’s a smith, Ani.’ She walked closer, their shoulders brushing, waiting for him to puzzle it out. After a few seconds, she glanced up at him. ‘Like the Terrans? They worship Keos and they’re all smiths.’
Annev scratched his head, resisting the urge to contradict Myjun by explaining what Sodar had taught him about the Terrans. ‘Look, Sraon’s from the north. Terrans live in the old lands – out east. And anyway, Sraon comes to chapel every Seventhday. Sometimes he even comes during the week to say prayers with Sodar. He definitely worships Odar, Myjun. Not Keos.’
Myjun shrugged dismissively with one shoulder. ‘Father says Sons of Keos do that to trick people. And he would know.’
Annev slowed, realising he would never convince her; Myjun seemed to believe anything her father, Elder Tosan, told her – no matter how far-fetched it was. A second, colder realisation accompanied the first: Myjun would never really accept him if she knew his secret. Annev’s weight shifted from foot to foot and he decided he had nothing left to say.
‘I have to prepare for tonight’s sermon.’ He took Myjun’s hand and bowed formally over it, lightly kissing the back of her palm. ‘Thank you for the glove. You’ll have your gift on the last night of Regaleus.’
Myjun bit her lip, then smiled as she withdrew her hand. ‘Don’t let my father know we’re exchanging gifts. He’s a traditionalist – he believes it’s bad luck.’ She clutched the sandals to her chest. ‘Can I tell you a secret, though?’
‘Anything.’
She leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘I think he’s old-fashioned,’ she whispered, close enough that he felt her breath on his cheek. ‘He takes some things far too seriously.’ She winked at him. ‘Bye, Annev.’
‘Bye …’ He hesitated, savouring her name on his lips. ‘… Myjun.’
She made to leave, walking halfway across the plaza, then glanced over her shoulder one last time. ‘It was exciting,’ she said, just loud enough for him to hear, ‘being alone in the nave with you.’
And before Annev could respond, she darted up the stone steps to the Academy and disappeared from view.