Arthur, and he paused at the door.
“I don’t mean to intrude,” he started, but she shook her head. He crossed the room and climbed into the bed beside her. His clothes were on, and for that she was thankful. His arms wrapped around her, and in their comfort, she broke down once more. He was something steady, dependable, amid the chaos overwhelming her. He said nothing as she cried, only gently stroked her hair and held her against him. His body was warm, and it felt pleasant. After awhile, he spoke.
“If there is anything you need, I am here. It doesn’t matter the hour, nor the reason. I want you to know that.”
She clutched his hand in hers and squeezed. Her whole body ached, and her temples throbbed. Her tears still ran down her face, but they were silent. She closed her eyes, pressing her face against his chest and focusing on the sound of his breathing. As long as she thought about that, only that, maybe she could fall asleep. Maybe she could forget the whole damned night, and come the morning, the nightmare would be over. Maybe, just maybe…
She slept.
1
I n searching for the Watcher, there was one person Zusa knew would be best to meet with first. Behind the fenced estate was a small empty building, Zusa’s home. She intended to gather a few things for her task, but when she stepped into her combination bedroom and training room, she was instead surprised to find Veliana already waiting for her.
“You?” she said.
“I know I’m a day early,” Veliana said. She’d taken off her cloak, and wore only skin-tight clothing of blacks and grays. “I’ve come not just for training, but for advice.”
Zusa removed her own cloak and set it atop her bed. Other than the bed, the room was completely empty. The floor was padded, but still firm, a gift from Alyssa celebrating her first year of living with and protecting her. Veliana’s boots lay beside the door, and she padded barefoot to the center of the room.
“Tell me while we spar,” Zusa said. “I still feel sleep’s allure, so I need the awakening.”
They both drew a pair of daggers. No training weaponry for them; Zusa had insisted on real blades. She trusted her skill to make sure she caused no serious injury, as well as to prevent Veliana from doing the same. Over the past five years, Veliana had closed much of the gap, so now if either scored a hit, they counted it a well-earned rarity.
“Have you heard of a sorcerer named Deathmask, or perhaps Death’s Mask?” she asked as she stretched. Zusa shook her head. Veliana didn’t seem surprised. “Thought I’d ask anyway. He appeared about a week ago, a dangerous man. He has plans to kill Garrick, though how I don’t know. I think he has a chance.”
“Will you kill him?”
Veliana feinted, then slashed low, fully expecting Zusa to block. Their daggers connected, and as the steel rang out, they thrust and parried, resuming a skilled dance they had perfected over the years, a perfect give and take of cuts and dodges, parries and thrusts. They talked as they fought, albeit a little out of breath.
“I’m not sure if I still can, nor if I want to. Garrick has turned against me, thinks he can survive without me. He may be right, though he was a lying coward when I first thrust him into his role.”
Zusa upped the pace, forcing Veliana on the defensive as she spun and slashed.
“Men change over time, as do women.”
“But not like this. It’s too sudden. I feel like I’m missing something obvious.”
“Perhaps you are, and that is why you miss it. What is it you wish from me?”
Veliana leapt away, but instead of gaining a moment’s breather, Zusa rushed in, her daggers leading. After she parried both, Veliana struck Zusa in the chest with an elbow and then pushed her back.
“I must make a choice, but I don’t know which is the right one. You know me best, Zusa. What should I do?”
Zusa pulled back from her attack and rubbed her chest. Veliana was terribly distracted to
“I don’t mean to intrude,” he started, but she shook her head. He crossed the room and climbed into the bed beside her. His clothes were on, and for that she was thankful. His arms wrapped around her, and in their comfort, she broke down once more. He was something steady, dependable, amid the chaos overwhelming her. He said nothing as she cried, only gently stroked her hair and held her against him. His body was warm, and it felt pleasant. After awhile, he spoke.
“If there is anything you need, I am here. It doesn’t matter the hour, nor the reason. I want you to know that.”
She clutched his hand in hers and squeezed. Her whole body ached, and her temples throbbed. Her tears still ran down her face, but they were silent. She closed her eyes, pressing her face against his chest and focusing on the sound of his breathing. As long as she thought about that, only that, maybe she could fall asleep. Maybe she could forget the whole damned night, and come the morning, the nightmare would be over. Maybe, just maybe…
She slept.
1
I n searching for the Watcher, there was one person Zusa knew would be best to meet with first. Behind the fenced estate was a small empty building, Zusa’s home. She intended to gather a few things for her task, but when she stepped into her combination bedroom and training room, she was instead surprised to find Veliana already waiting for her.
“You?” she said.
“I know I’m a day early,” Veliana said. She’d taken off her cloak, and wore only skin-tight clothing of blacks and grays. “I’ve come not just for training, but for advice.”
Zusa removed her own cloak and set it atop her bed. Other than the bed, the room was completely empty. The floor was padded, but still firm, a gift from Alyssa celebrating her first year of living with and protecting her. Veliana’s boots lay beside the door, and she padded barefoot to the center of the room.
“Tell me while we spar,” Zusa said. “I still feel sleep’s allure, so I need the awakening.”
They both drew a pair of daggers. No training weaponry for them; Zusa had insisted on real blades. She trusted her skill to make sure she caused no serious injury, as well as to prevent Veliana from doing the same. Over the past five years, Veliana had closed much of the gap, so now if either scored a hit, they counted it a well-earned rarity.
“Have you heard of a sorcerer named Deathmask, or perhaps Death’s Mask?” she asked as she stretched. Zusa shook her head. Veliana didn’t seem surprised. “Thought I’d ask anyway. He appeared about a week ago, a dangerous man. He has plans to kill Garrick, though how I don’t know. I think he has a chance.”
“Will you kill him?”
Veliana feinted, then slashed low, fully expecting Zusa to block. Their daggers connected, and as the steel rang out, they thrust and parried, resuming a skilled dance they had perfected over the years, a perfect give and take of cuts and dodges, parries and thrusts. They talked as they fought, albeit a little out of breath.
“I’m not sure if I still can, nor if I want to. Garrick has turned against me, thinks he can survive without me. He may be right, though he was a lying coward when I first thrust him into his role.”
Zusa upped the pace, forcing Veliana on the defensive as she spun and slashed.
“Men change over time, as do women.”
“But not like this. It’s too sudden. I feel like I’m missing something obvious.”
“Perhaps you are, and that is why you miss it. What is it you wish from me?”
Veliana leapt away, but instead of gaining a moment’s breather, Zusa rushed in, her daggers leading. After she parried both, Veliana struck Zusa in the chest with an elbow and then pushed her back.
“I must make a choice, but I don’t know which is the right one. You know me best, Zusa. What should I do?”
Zusa pulled back from her attack and rubbed her chest. Veliana was terribly distracted to
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