The Girl with the Scar by William Stadler

Author:William Stadler [Stadler, William]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Plasma Publishing
Published: 2014-01-23T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

THE RETURN

Eva stayed close to Edward and Rufio as they descended to the entrance flat. Snow had begun to fall, shifting softly in the King’s Breath. Her brother was going on about something trivial with Rufio, but she paid neither of them any mind.

As much as she loved her brother, he was doing it again, the guise where he cloaked heaviness in the gown of facetiousness. Was he not affected by Maria’s death? His quick laughs and his ongoing smile said that he wasn’t.

Edward was telling some story about how he had encountered some beast from somewhere, but why was that so important? Did he not care that Eva’s heart was torn?

“I can’t say I’ve ever crossed paths with a Helion,” Rufio said. His strong voice jumped when he spoke, each bellow pulling from the depths of his gut. “If I did, I wouldn’t be saying too much more.”

“I barely survived,” Edward said, tilting his head towards Rufio, eyebrows arched and shaking his head a bit. “But the tip of my blade was swifter than the swipe of its flame.”

“Seems that the gods are ever on your side,” Rufio said.

With a half smile, Edward asked, “Can you blame them?”

Edward led them through the center of the town. Off to the right, several carriages were stationed behind the first row of huts. Deep green fabric covered the backs. Edward leapt on the back of one. His foot slipped on the fresh snow, but he quickly caught his balance. He pulled the fabric back and jumped inside, opening a few chests and then closing the lids back.

After opening one chest, he rested his hand on his hilt and grinned, nodding. “This will serve you well,” he said, talking to Eva but keeping his eyes inside the chest. Edward reached down, fumbled through a few items, and grabbed what he was looking for. “Here you are.”

He tossed a leather case at Eva. She reached out to catch it, but when she saw that it was a dagger, she snapped her hands back. The sheathed blade landed in the snow.

“You were supposed to catch it.”

“It is a blade,” she replied.

“The edge is covered.”

“I don’t need a dagger.”

“If you’re coming with me, you do.” Edward jumped from the back of the carriage, both feet landing in the snow at the same time. Then he covered the chests with the fabric. “I won’t have my sister scouting with me without a blade.”

“I don’t intend to be fighting,” she said.

Edward picked up the dagger’s scabbard that looked more like an elongated, fancy pen rather than a sheath. He grabbed her hand and placed it in her palm. “Neither do I.”

She closed her hand on the black leather sheath. Each end was plated with a silver covering, and the onyx, spiral-woven hilt of the dagger extended from the open end of the sheath. As she grabbed the leather, the snow melted from the heat of her hand. She jerked out the blade, and the dagger was comfortable and light.

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