“Volanna came in first after knocking. She was pleasant as always. She started asking questions about my mother, and I knew she was trying to get me to admit that she had magic. But I lied and attempted to divert the topic.
“Then she started searching my room. I tried to talk her down, but she found the weapons under my bed and shrieked. That brought her sons running; all three of them barged in at once. I kept circling, trying not to let any of them get behind me. Volanna tried to call them off, but they didn’t listen to her. She eventually gave in and helped them.”
Temra bends down to touch her toes, stands, and pulls one ankle up as close to her back as it will reach. “I didn’t expect her to grab me. That was foolish. Even so, I don’t know that anything could have been done against so many.”
Kellyn’s face is a mask of indifference as he sets down his sword. “How did she grab you? Show me.”
Temra steps forward and clamps her fingers around Kellyn’s forearm like a vise.
“It’s instinctual to pull away, but it’s far more effective to strike.” He shows her a series of moves, bringing the flat edge of his free hand down on Temra’s forearm to loosen her grip. He has her grab him again in the same way, then leans into her and mock-knees her in the stomach. “Use the enemy’s closeness against them,” he says.
After several minutes of going through different motions, Kellyn says, “Even I have trouble being outnumbered. When that happens, you have to intimidate or outthink your opponents. That’s harder to teach.”
Eventually they raise their swords and take swings at each other. Listening to Temra’s explanation of what happened has made my chest grow tight. She must have been so scared and alone. I never should have left her.
Petrik doesn’t take his attention off his books. I think he’s trying very hard not to cry anymore. “Thousand-year-old books, and I let them fall in a lake.” His voice cracks at the end. “I’ve never felt more of a failure.”
“No, Petrik. You didn’t fail. You saved Temra. Thank you for coming to get me the moment you knew she was in danger.”
“I know I set out on this journey for my book, but we’re friends now. Of course I’ll look out for her. For you both. I know I’m not good for much, but I’ll be here as long as you want me.”
He looks over at the sparring pair then, and as I watch him watching my sister, one thing becomes perfectly clear.
He likes her. He’s never let Temra see it, but right now I can tell clear as day.
Does he know that the second he shows interest, she’ll stop flirting with him? She’ll get her victory and become bored. Is that why he holds back in front of her?
He’s more clever than I gave him credit for.
* * *
When I’m alone again with my thoughts, I can’t help but think of my father, since I just left his family for good. I miss him. The sound of his deep voice. His big arms around me. I don’t remember much of anything he said to me. But I remember how he made me feel safe.
And I realize now just how much he must have loved my mother to leave everything he knew behind and start a new life with her.
I wonder if that life caught up with him.
Was it religious zealots who broke into our home that night and killed my parents? Did Volanna lie about never knowing what became of her son?
I might be plagued with unanswered questions forever.
That night, Petrik stays up writing in his book by the fire while the rest of us go to sleep. I think he’s tracing all the notes he’s made, reinforcing the watered ink so it won’t fade. No matter how much I tried to convince him to get some rest, he said he’d go to bed when he was ready.
I lie on the hard ground, missing the blankets and bedrolls and tents that were abandoned at the Sotheran estate. My feet are pointed toward the fire, and Temra is curled up against me. My thoughts usually keep me awake, but tonight I feel myself drifting until Temra rises and leaves my side exposed to the night air.
After a few beats of silence, I hear her voice over the top of the crackling fire. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you, Petrik.”
“Thank me?” he asks.
“For grabbing Ziva and Kellyn and coming after me.”
“You don’t need to thank me for that. I’m sorry I’m not skilled enough to have put a stop to them taking you in the first place.”
“That’s a silly thing to say,” she says.
It’s quiet for a bit, and then I hear the faint whisper of paper. Is Petrik turning a page or putting down the book? I’d have to sit up to see, and I don’t want them to know I’m eavesdropping. Kellyn’s snores from across the way prove he’s out cold.
“Why did you?” Temra asks.
“Say a silly thing?”
“Bother to save me?”
I think Petrik must be stunned by the question because he doesn’t answer for a moment. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m not the one with magic. You don’t need me. You could have taken Ziva and ran without having to deal with overzealous city folk. You probably would have had plenty of time to even go back for the horse and the supplies before fleeing the city.”
“As if your sister would ever leave without you.”
“You could have lied to her. Told her I was already dead.”
My heart hurts to hear such things, but I realize she’s right. Petrik didn’t have to do any of the things he did.
“It didn’t even cross my mind not to save you,” he says after another beat of silence.
“Smart and kind. Thank you for being you, Petrik.”
I think Temra might start to rise from beside the fire, but Petrik stops her. “You think too little of yourself. Has it ever occurred to you that there’s a reason you love the sword? Maybe you were always meant to protect your sister.” He pauses. “I know who hunts you. I know the warlord was in town. I saw her stop by the smithy. I’d been biding my time, hoping to approach Ziva. You guys left right after a visit from Kymora and went to the tavern. I don’t understand why you’re running, although I imagine it has to do with the fact that Kymora would want to bend your sister to her will. But my point is, I think the Sisters took great care in putting you and Ziva in each other’s lives. Your value is just as important and vital as your sister’s. You are just as special.”
I wish I could see the way they’re looking at each other. Or not looking at each other. I want to read the situation and maybe hug Petrik for saying just the right thing.
And knowing that he’s chosen to stick with us despite knowing who hunts us—and keeping the secret from Kellyn as well—it endears him to me even more.
Without another word, Temra lies back at my side.
I pretend to be asleep.
* * *
We pass many travelers on the road, including—thankfully—a clothing merchant. The second Kellyn spots the tailor, he runs ahead of our group and talks with the man for a while. The conversation ends with Kellyn handing over some coins. The merchant jumps down from his cart, waves away the mercenaries hired to guard his wears, and opens the back of the wagon.
Kellyn climbs in and disappears out of sight.
When he returns some time later, he has several bundles under his arms. He tosses one to each of us.
“They were fresh out of dresses,” Kellyn says to Petrik.
“Oh, har!” Petrik says without humor. He veers off to one end of the road to change while Temra and I take the other.
“He feels bad,” Temra says as she peels off her hideous dress. I know she means Kellyn.
“As well he should,” I say, freeing myself from my own garments.
“He knows he messed up. He’s trying to make things right.”
“He’s going to have to do a lot better than scraps of cloth.”
Although, the clothing is quite good. He didn’t go stingy, choosing durable leather boots and soft cotton tunics. I pull fabric bracers over my wrists for added warmth, and the belt pulls snugly against my waist to keep everything out of the way.
Temra turns to me once she’s done dressing, and her mouth drops open.
“What?” I ask self-consciously.
“Do you see my clothes?” she asks.
“Yes, they’re fine. Why?”
“They’re too big.”
“So? Now’s not really the time to be picky.”
“So, yours fit like a glove! And he chose blue to match your eyes.”