Crossfire (A Skyrim Fan Fiction)

Chapter 8: Big Spoon

Mira

My mouth fell open. Jiran wouldn't approve, but I couldn't help myself. "Raven-Blade?" I asked, my throat suddenly dry.

Kisvar's blue eyes narrowed. "Again, did you know her?"

"We're just surprised to hear the Dark Brotherhood didn't get to her first. There was a contract out on her a few months ago, and usually the Thieves' Guild handles its business without killing... or so I've heard."

As usual, Jiran had his feelings hidden behind a mask of imperviousness. I couldn't manage that, so I pretended to accidentally let my mare break ahead of the rest so no one could see my face.

Raven-Blade. Jiran Raven-Blade. Aetra Raven-Blade. Surely not. But was it really so farfetched? Jiran had told me about his two older sisters who had escaped to Skyrim when their father tried to marry them off.

Apparently lawlessness runs in the family. Assassin brother, thief sister. I wonder what the other sister does.

But... gods. If the Aetra Kisvar had talked about really was one of Jiran's long-lost sisters, then he had lost a sister. I'd spent enough time travelling Skyrim to know it was a cruel, harsh place. What could have become of the other sister?

My emotions under control, I dropped back to ride beside Jiran. With the two thieves riding ahead, I risked a quick, comforting touch to Jiran's arm. His eyes flicked to me, and his stiff jaw relaxed a fraction.

I desperately wanted to talk to Jiran about this new development, but I doubted I would get the chance for a while. We had agreed days ago to try to avoid drawing attention and suspicion to ourselves as much as possible, and that meant sneaking off for private chats was out of the question. We didn't want the Guild to think we were hiding anything.

However, when we passed a small but swift waterfall, I sneaked a quick conversation with Jiran under cover of the roaring. "Is something—does it seem to you like something is off with Kisvar?"

"You noticed it too? I'm impressed."

"Um... I mean, he almost jumped off a cliff and talked to himself. It was hard not to notice."

"Oh. I meant his hand. His right hand," Jiran explained patiently. "Haven't you seen how he uses it? Or rather, doesn't use it? He favors it when he buckles straps and grabs things. Something is wrong with it, probably some injury from the Second Siege of Whiterun."

"I didn't notice that," I admitted.

"I hope we get attacked along the road."

"What? Why in the world would you want that?"

"To see how Kisvar fights."

"With a sword, probably," I said helpfully.

"Very astute of you. But how many swords?"

"Well... he's only carrying one, so—oh. I see. It's a one-handed sword and he doesn't have a shield or anything, so you're wondering what he does with the other hand?"

"Exactly. I'm guessing he can use magic, probably from the Destruction School, but I'd like to be certain."

"Good thing the odds of us getting to Markarth without getting attacked are just about zero."

"Got to look at the bright side."

We shared a grin and ended our conversation as we left the waterfall behind.

My grin faded quickly, slipping from my face like a salmon over a waterfall. Masterful as usual at the art of redirecting conversation, Jiran had managed to make me forget all about Aetra for the brief moment we had to talk privately. Wasn't he curious? Didn't he want to ask questions and find out if Aetra Raven-Blade was one of his long-lost sisters?