And they were all gone.
Tightening my hands around Cierthine's thick hilt, I steadied my breath and lifted my gaze.
Liam paced the yard opposite me. He tossed off his cloak and rolled up his tunic's sleeves. The crimson fabric matched the blood I'd seen pour from his arm, back in Galasvar.
Bandages and a brace still bound his wrist. The vined horror had fractured it.
Dwelling on the creature threw me back into bloodied streets.
I saw the child's head turning into a red, pulpy mass. My brother, bleeding out. A dragon, descending from the sky. Death all around, torn flesh. Agonized screams.
Blinking, I tried to drive the memories away. They lingered, like an acrid taste I could not wash out.
Liam drew a dagger from his belt—a real weapon, made of steel. A strange nostalgia struck me, seeing him all grown up in a position we'd only taken up as children.
What happened to my sweet baby brother? These days, my constant companion had a sharp tongue and thieving tendencies. Father had gone terribly wrong with Liam, somewhere.
"Ready?" Liam asked.
"No," I said honestly.
Cierthine was the most beautiful blade I'd laid eyes on. Its ebony length pulsed with gentle violet light, humming in tune with my breath. For the first time, I felt it.
This blade was mine.
Alas, that didn't make me any less of a complete novice at swordplay.
"Maybe." I lowered the blade. "We should just wait for the Paragon. It's not like you know much about swordplay."
"And tell him you've never even swung that thing?" Liam pointed his dagger at me. "Do you want him to tell everyone you're better off dead? Hell, he might slip poison into your drink himself."
"He wouldn't. Paragons are noble. Heroes."
"Right . . . " Liam's eyes darkened. He lowered himself into a defensive stance. "Just . . . take a swing. See how it feels."
Sharp, frigid air rushed through the yard. Snow fell from a nearby rooftop, piling up by its gate. Breathing in, I lifted Cierthine and . . . swung.
The attack was meant to cleave toward Liam's side, but I lost balance and teetered off course.
Cierthine flew from my hands and landed in the snow as I fell backward on my ass.
Liam unfolded from his defensive stance. "Oh, it's even worse than I thought."
"Saint's shit," I breathed. "It's heavy."
"You didn't realize that already?"
"It's a lot heavier when you're trying to kill someone with it."
"How about this: I can make you a disguise, help you change your name," Liam offered. "Forlaith has eyes everywhere, but there are some nooks where their vigil is lax."
"I'm not running away." Rising, I dusted myself off and retrieved the Paragon's blade.
Myblade.Iwas the Paragon.
Oh, gods.
My fingers trembled. Snow fell from the hostel's roof, and the chill wind dug into my skin, spreading the tremors throughout my body.
