Faramir looked up from the sand table and shrugged, giving the girl a slight smile. It wasn’t often that Oma instigated conversations and she wanted to encourage her. “I’m not sure, the dragons can be prickly but we will certainly try,”
“I don’t think you can,” Oma said coldly as sharp pain spread through Faramir’s back. Dimly she became aware of the girl’s upraised hand and the bloody knife it held. “That was a lung shot,” the girl said calmly and plunged the knife in once more as Faramir staggered back. “That was not,” Oma said pulling the knife from her chest and looking down at Faramir with a smile. “And now I’m positive you can’t keep them out of it,” she whispered happily, her form already shifting to match that of Faramir’s. “Surprise, Faramir. You know where I am now,” the Changeling whispered to the dying woman and chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, I will give Symphony the best of advice,” she promised as she watched the last light fade from Faramir’s eyes and carefully stored the body in a storage stone. Dropping the stone into her pocket she glanced at the sand table and smiled. The magics they had used on the mock battles should cover any trace of the magic she used. With a wave of her hand Myth cleaned the blood from herself and the floor and moved over to the table. Staring down at the sand she waved a hand and created another mock battlefield. Though she had watched Symphony and Faramir do this daily for weeks, she herself had not used a sand table in ages. It would be best if she knew every maneuver before the practice session tomorrow. Clearing her throat, she smiled down at the table. “Do you want Delvay or Rivana?” she said quietly and repeated the phrase over and over until the pitch and tone was a perfect imitation of Faramir. Assured that the voice would not give her away she created army after army on the table to ensure she could do it on a whim and practiced changing the table’s terrain. Fortunately for her, she knew more about strategy than even Faramir herself had. You had to know such things in order to provoke wars. In order to manipulate, you had to know reactions, and she knew the reactions of every race on Sanctuary by heart.
With a satisfied nod she let the sand collapse once more and, turned to find a seat in the corner. Soon enough she would have to go and tell Caspian that Oma was missing, but then the poor girl hadn’t seemed right in the head since she had arrived. Smothering a laugh Myth tapped her fingers idly on the table and began to work the finer details out in her mind. Becoming someone in truth required so many fine details and from now until something better arose, she was Faramir.
Chapter 10
Sanctuary
Warm lips brushed against her neck. “You are going to be late for classes,” Finn whispered in her ear. Burrowing further under the blankets, she pressed herself tightly against him. He chuckled lightly and wrapped his arms around her. “You are going to be really late for classes,” he corrected.
“I’m not going today,” she mumbled through a yawn. By the time Sovann had returned and she had explained everything to them it had been late. She had decided she wouldn’t be going to school when it had taken several hours past late to clean up the mess in his house. Given the hour, they had simply stayed at Sovann’s rather than return to the Academy.
“Hmm, neither am I. Imagine that,” Finn said with a grin. “I have several very good suggestions on what we should do with our day off,” he said and ran his hand down her back lightly.
“Mmm. I have to help them with the orphanage today,” she objected mildly and looked up at him with a smile. “If you had your way we would never get out of bed.”
He raised an eyebrow at her and shrugged. “And how is that a bad thing. I barely get to see you,” he said with a sigh. “I leave before you wake up and I usually don’t get to see you again until after you are done training with Neph. I never see you during the day unless it’s a free day and then we are both busy.”
“I know,” she said. resting her head on his shoulder. “But it won’t be like this forever,” she promised and hoped she was right.
“I have a duel against one of the most dangerous swordsmen alive today. I’m not letting you out of bed until I absolutely have to,” he said, his tone firm.
Groaning, she buried her face in his chest and smacked him lightly. “I don’t want you to fight him,” she complained in a pathetic voice, even to her ears.
“And I don’t want you to leave the bed,” he countered with a smirk.
She looked up sharply, causing a wave of curls to fall down over her face. Absently, she brushed them back and locked her violet eyes firmly on Finn. “I’ll stay in bed for the rest of the week if you cancel the duel,” she offered. One eyebrow rose. “I will only get up to use the privy and bathe. The rest of the time I’ll be right here beside you,” she added hopefully.
Shaking his head slightly, he smiled faintly and brushed the rest of the curls from her face. With a gentleness he used with no other, he cupped her chin and kissed her lightly. “If I could back out now, I would. That offer alone would be enough to get me to go back on my word and take the dishonor. But I can’t, Jala. I’ve bet too much.”
“What have you possibly bet that you are being so stubborn about?” she asked dismally.
“Everything,” he answered, ignoring her look of annoyance at his vague response. “Jala, I know you don’t approve of all of my actions, but what I do, I have a reason for, I promise,” he said softly and her annoyance faded.
“I know. I don’t understand a lot but I’m learning faster than I care to,” she murmured.
“Don’t learn too many of Sanctuary’s lessons, Vezradesh. I don’t ever want to see that gentle side of you die. You are what makes me try to be better. You are my conscience, I think. I didn’t have one before I met you. No one else could make me pull a sword blow, only you,”