Gods & Thieves ✔

35. Fight and Surrender

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After long minutes of arguing and Loretto's refusal to make faer living room a combat arena, I suggest climbing onto the roof of the Great Temple.

Paradoxically, Loretto doesn't mind.

But there really is nowhere else to go. Our beloved library has narrow aisles between the shelves, the temple's halls and the city streets--even in the current twilight as the sun has almost hit behind the horizon--can betray us to the unwanted eyes. But the roof? Hardly anyone would trouble themselves with climbing there. After all, you have to go through the window of an abandoned top floor hallway, over the sharply dangerous corner of the roof, and finally, onto the flat area of the roof covering the main part of the Great Temple.

And even if someone tries to follow us, we'll notice. Besides, they'll fail as it's nearly impossible to make this way without the Loretto's aura, which helps me maintain my balance on the ledge. I wouldn't have risked it alone.

And yet, tonight, I'm willing to risk anything just to avoid being lonely and crazily in love like last night.

The roof is gigantic, like the temple itself; it makes my head spin when I carefully peek down from over the edge. The temple has only three floors in its main part, but the ceilings are high, and from here, it feels like there're at least seven floors.

Shivering, I immediately retreat from the roof edge.

The landscape ahead is much better: almost entire Cabrakan, the view is even better than it was at the top of that broken tower--not just the outskirts of the city behind a wall of rain, but an endless expanse under the dark blue sky. Houses, houses, houses...and the lights in the countless windows like fireflies illuminating narrow, winding roads and streets.

Suddenly, I now realize that I don't miss my home anymore. Tik'al is so specious. So free.

"I don't like it here anyway," Loretto grumbles, looking around at the silhouettes of statues of gods decorating the perimeter of the roof in the dark. "What made you think of the roof, Eli? You've been here before, haven't you? I don't like unexplored places."

If you don't like it, why agree coming here with me? I think, but I don't ask. It looks like Tayen, like me, is trying faer best to find an excuse to spend time together. But no, now I'm definitely thinking of what I want. I'm sure Loretto just sees an opportunity to practice, and there's no one else for it but me.

"I haven't," I reply, and without giving Mentor time to start grumbling again, I ask, "Why do you keep daggers under your mattress, Loretto?"

Having already managed to take off faer robe, but remaining--thank gods--in faer old-fashioned pants and a simple sleeveless white shirt, Loretto makes a vague gesture, the gleaming tip of the dagger in faer hand drawing an arc in the air. "And why do you always carry my kitchen knife with you?"

For the same reasons, I guess. The second blade is in my hand, and it's damn inspiring to feel its weight. Even more inspiring--and terrifying--is the fact that its silver-plated blade shines in the night like a polished fragment of the moon. It looks sharp. Very sharp.

I don't know where Loretto's daggers came from or what their history is, but the thought that this very point can cut through human flesh like through the finest silk fills me with such awe and adrenaline that I feel like walking a tightrope over an abyss. Breathtaking.

When Cale and I secretly went to an abandoned sugar warehouse on the outskirts of the city on weekends, where he taught me to wield a dagger, he always said that the blade was the best weapon against a shaman. Magic can disable a gun, but a knife is untouchable. Especially a silver one, which is not subject to any charms.