The Shattered Circle

26. Fire and Ash

I ran a cloth across Woe's surface, paying special attention to the inscription in the blade, still readable despite the scars. They were the lessons of my mother, instilled as if my own blade was speaking to me: Do not draw me without reason. Do not wield me without valor. The ignorant saw runes on my sword and thought them dark magic, but the markings only reminded me of my own beginnings. I wondered what she made of me now, looking down at the world from heavens I would never know.

Maybe it was magic, a communion with the dead even I could access. I imagined her disappointment with me like a slap across the face.

Perhaps I always fought courageously, in service of something greater, but was it good? When I lived in my memories or anger, it seemed so. As soon as those coals burned cold, however, I wondered.

Soft-creaking footsteps on the mats stirred me from my reverie. I knew without turning that it was Shira, unheard of this late. Normally she slept until dawn from sheer exhaustion alone. "Is something the matter?" I asked as I stood and turned, still carefully wiping down Woe.

Restless, Shira signed with flicking fingers. Vex said I was fortunate she seized the other assassin. She said he was searching the palace for me.

I sighed, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose. Unlike Anstydir, Vex could be very catlike in her idea of following my instructions. I had requested that she not disclose the nature of the conversation with my new captive to Shira, but clearly she hadn't understood why enough to preserve my peace. I needed to watch my words more carefully with her. "Did she say why?"

Why would any assassin seek out someone like me? They needed help, someone on the inside.

Well, at least Vex could halfway follow my instructions. "Did they now?" I said dryly, well aware that Erelim's chosen intended to shove a blade of mercy right through Shira's heart. The why was the troublesome part, but Vex didn't need to sleep and had her wily ways of getting information even when I refused to let her play with her food. She could settle for being a nuisance and antagonistic force trying to rile them up. What a pair we made during interrogations: the cruel Beloved and the obnoxious loudmouth guard. I would speak to him properly once Vex had grated away his resolve.

For her part, Shira seemed to understand much was going unsaid. You know more of their purpose here.

I sheathed Woe carefully and set the blade aside. "Since you seem quite awake and aware, perhaps I should put you through your paces."

Shira narrowed her eyes. Must you silence every question with violence?

"It is a pleasure, not a necessity." I went and picked up two of the training blades, tossing her one. They were wooden and meant to mimic the feel of a real blade, enchanted both to prevent from killing and to prevent from breaking. Magic certainly had its uses, even for the martially inclined, but I had to request Ember fashion them rather than being able to place the enchantment myself. "If you object, all you have to do is win. Then I will be satisfied and you may pester me with questions."

Shira caught the training sword with reflexive ease, a sign of lessons honed to a fine point. I felt a slight glimmer of pride as I settled into my stance, as comfortable as sitting in a well-loved chair.

Almost immediately, she surged forward like a diver into the plunge, a beautiful strike from the shoulder bearing down on my immediate parry. Where normally Shira had to be coaxed into ferocity, now she burned like a furnace. I wasn't certain if it was irritation with me or a desire to know whatever secrets I held, but it was breathtaking. This was the fire I'd seen in her as a smolder. I met her with a wrathful strike, striking hard enough that I almost knocked the blade out of her hands. Instead of waiting for her to regain herself as she retreated, I pursued, hounding her across the mats with switching strikes she had to parry in a flurry.