The Will of the Weapons

The cold steel of her blade clanged against the iron of Ashlyn’s hammer, and Kyra Bell smiled mischievously.

“Not bad, but you can’t keep this up for long,” Kyra said breathlessly, readying herself for another strike.

“Maybe not,” Ashlyn replied. “But I can outlast you.” With that, she swung the hammer above her in a high arc. Kyra slid out of the way, using her blade to nudge the hammer down out of range. She tried to swing her blade back around, but Ashlyn anticipated that and had the handle of her hammer ready to parry.

Kyra saw the next movement coming, but couldn’t do anything about it. Ashlyn kicked her feet out from under her, and Kyra fell to the ground. She rolled out of the way as Ashlyn brought the hammer down, and poked her in the side with the tip of the blade. Had it not been a dull practice blade, she would have pierced Ashlyn’s lung. As it was, she simply yelped and dropped the hammer.

“Okay, okay, you got me,” Ashyln said. Kyra smiled at her friend. She was getting pretty good with that hammer, though swords were her true specialty. Kyra had two years on Ashlyn, and could still take her in a fair fight. She also knew it wouldn’t be long before that wasn’t true anymore. Ashlyn Maeve was a fighter.

“Alright, let’s swap. I’m sick of this thing,” Ashlyn said, kicking the hammer that lay in the dirt before her. “Let you lug it around for a while.”

Kyra snorted and tossed Ashlyn the sword she held, which she caught deftly. “Makes no matter to me. Though I expect humility once I beat you with this thing. I’ll accept no excuses from you.”

Ashlyn smiled, wiping her raven hair out of her face. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.

Kyra picked up the hammer Ashlyn had dropped. It was a heavy one, poorly made in truth, like most of their weapons. Old man Kanis was the village’s long-standing blacksmith, and he only smithed two days

a week. The rest of the time, he was picking fruit for his wife’s produce stand. He was a better apple picker than he was a smith anyway.

Kyra swung the hammer around a few times, getting a feel for it. Ashlyn circled her, raising her blade in an aggressive stance. She feinted right, but Kyra was ready. She thrust the head of her hammer straight ahead, catching Ashlyn square in the chest and knocking the breath out of her.

Kyra raised her hammer for the kill, but Ashlyn wasn’t done yet. She leapt to her feet and raised the blade high, catching the hammer before it could build any momentum. They clashed and fell back. Kyra grinned at Ashlyn, already prepared to strike again, but then noticed Ashlyn looking, not at her, but behind her

“Don’t stop on my account,” a familiar voice said. “Have to pay good money for this type of thing, usually.”

Kyra smiled to herself and shook her head. She turned to see her brother approaching. “Ought to make you pay for it, you could use the lessons.”

Kylin Bell strolled past her, a smirk on his face.

“Aye, you might be right,” he said. “Ashlyn, how are ya?”

“Trying to teach your sister how to use a hammer,” she said. Kyra snorted. “It’s tough going though. You?”

Kylin sighed. “It’s been a day. Master Braha has been running me ragged. Been cleaning the church all morning, getting it all ready for tonight. Sad.” He said, shaking his head.

Kyra and Ashlyn exchanged quizzical glances.

“What do you mean? What’s going on tonight?” Kyra asked her brother.

“Oh, you two haven’t heard yet?” he said, eyes going wide.

“Obviously not, what is it?” Ashlyn said.

“Rena Humboldt passed last night,” he said.

“Rena Humboldt is dead? Oh no,” Kyra said.

“Aye, the White Seal herself,” Kylin replied. “They said she went in her sleep though, so at least she didn’t suffer.”

“She just came through not too long ago. We saw her, what, two or three months ago?” Kyra asked.

“Something like that,” Ashlyn said.

“How sad,” Krya said quietly.

“Yes. She’d wielded Theses for a long time, longer than I’ve been alive,” Kylin said.

“Over forty years,” Ashlyn said. Ashlyn hadn’t always taken her studies as seriously as she could have, but she’d always had a fascination with the Three Seals. Theses, the White Seal, was the Seal of Alamba.

That was where Mao Village was, Kyra’s home. There was also Thia, the Black Seal, a slender blade that was bound to Magra, and Themin, known as the Rainbow Seal. Said to be a dazzling blade, Themin belonged to the people of Leosia. They were always bound to their respective regions, and held a special, almost ceremonial, place in the hearts of many.

They’d all grown up with Rena as their ambassador, and she was beloved. She was soft-spoken, but known as a fearsome fighter in her prime. She was above reproach, and though Kyra understood on some level that Rena would likely die during her lifetime, it was still…..strange to think about. It felt almost like a family member dying, though of course Kyra had not known her personally. She had only ever even seen her up close the one time. And now, barely a season’s time later, she was dead.

“Suppose there will be a vigil tonight then?” Ashlyn said.

“Of course,” Kylin replied. “You can imagine how Master Braha is taking it. Thrice today I’ve had to hear the story of how she and Rena were old friends. Or maybe it’s cousins now? Their relationship grows each time the story is told.”

“Ashlyn!” Kyra said. “Don’t be insensitive. You should be nicer, Rena was one of your heroes too.”

“I wonder who will be the next White Seal?” Ashlyn asked. “It will not be easy to take the place of Rena Humboldt.”

“Aye, will take someone of great grace, character and skill,” Kylin said. “In other words, you’re out of the running Maeve.”

Ashlyn hit him with a withering glare, raising her nose to him. “For someone who fancies themselves a Priest of Nima, it’s shocking how ill-equipped you are to judge anyone’s worthiness.” She raised the blade in her hand and pointed it at him. “You can take up that hammer if you’d like to find out though.”

Kylin raised his hands in mock surrender. “Oh, that won’t be necessary,” he said. “In fact, I ought to get going. Don’t suppose those lavatories will clean themselves.”

“I suppose not,” Ashlyn said dryly.

Kyra gave him a hug as he left. “I’ll see you home for lunch?”

“Aye, perhaps, if I can sneak away again. If not, I’ll see you tonight. Feel free to defend my honor against this one,” he said, gesturing at Ashlyn. She bared her teeth at him, and he made a swift exit.

“How did you and that fool come from the same household again, exactly?” Ashlyn asked.

Kyra looked to see Kylin turn a corner down a side street, disappearing from view. She stood in thoughtful silence for a second.

“He’s a good brother,” she said at least. “But he can be a bit of a fool, yeah?”

Ashlyn snorted. “That’s an understatement. Now, come, let’s have a few more rounds before we call it quits.”

They fought for another half hour or so, neither winning much of an advantage. Kyra noticed more people than usual about. She supposed word of Rena’s death, and the vigil tonight, was spreading. Kyra

was sure most of the village would be there. A Seal dying was always a big deal, and Rena was no ordinary Seal.

Ashlyn was clearly thinking the same thing. “I wonder what weapon Lady Rena will be buried with,” Ashlyn mused. “She wielded the Seal for so long, but I heard she was fond of the bow in her years before Theses. Though I suppose it has been some time since she had held one.”

“Perhaps a short sword,” Kyra said. “Something more like Theses, a blade her spirit may be used to. Perhaps a glassmith could forge a rainbow ceremonial blade or something?”

“For her spirit, you mean?” Ashlyn said mockingly. “Might as well bury her with a turkey leg, it’ll do her spirit just as good.”

“Not funny, Ashlyn,” Kyra said. “Just cause you don’t believe in spirits doesn’t you have to mock me for it. Why do you think they bury them with a weapon anyway?”

“Same reason anyone around here does anything, I suppose,” she replied. “It’s tradition.”

Kyra didn’t really have a response for that, so she dropped it. It wouldn’t have done any good anyway. Once, when Kyra was twelve and Ashlyn was ten, they had a fight so bad they didn’t speak for two weeks. Kyra was sure she had seen the ghost of the miller’s daughter who had drowned in the lake the previous week. Ashlyn had mercilessly mocked her for it, to the point of tears.

Kylin eventually convinced her to apologize by saying that, even if it was fake, it felt real to Kyra. Kylin always had a gift for reconciliation. He could talk the sun into cooling down, their mother would often say.

“Well, I suppose I should go, get some food and get ready for the vigil tonight,” Ashlyn said.

“Yeah? You’re gonna come?” Kyra replied.

“I’d pay my respects, sure,” Ashlyn said. “She was a fine wielder, I hope the next one follows her example.”

Krya nodded. She was glad Ashlyn was coming. The place would be packed, and no doubt Kylin would be busy with his own duties. She always felt awkward whenever she had to go anywhere, or do basically anything, by herself. She considered herself lucky to have Ashlyn and Kylin in her life if for no other reason than that.

As Ashlyn turned to leave, Kyra saw three figures approaching. She squinted through the sunlight to see who they were, but heard Ashlyn mutter “Oh brother,” and had a pretty good idea.

“Morning ladies, getting some training in? Need any help?” said Corvis Landro. He was flanked by his buddies Cris and Walter. A bunch of bullies, in Kyra’s opinion. She disliked them. Ashlyn openly hated them.

“We’re good, thanks,” Ashlyn replied. “If we need a training dummy, we’ll let you know.”

Cris glowered at her. “Wasn’t talking to you, bitch.”

Corvis put his hand on Cris’s shoulder. “Come now Cris, that’s no way to talk in front of a lady. Or Ashlyn,” he said with a smile.

Ashlyn gave them a withering smirk. “You clowns wouldn’t know a lady if she punched you in the face, though I’d be happy to test that for you if you like?”

“Aww, don’t like us talking to your girlfriend?” Cris replied?

“What do you want, Corvis?” Kyra said. “We’ve got to go.”

“You going to the vigil tonight Kyra?” Corvis asked. “I could use a date.”

“Cris is available, aren’t you big guy?” Ashlyn quipped.

Cris bowed himself up, but again Corvis settled him with an arm to the chest.

“Careful, you’ll set his flag at full mast, touchin’ him like that,” Ashlyn said.

“You’re funny Maeve. Isn’t she funny, Walter?” Corvis asked, turning to his young companion.

Walter seemed startled to be called upon. He was the youngest and weakest of the bunch, and didn’t talk much.

“Y-yeah Corvis,” he said meekly.

Cris slapped him upside the head. “Shut up Walt, she’s not funny.” He turned back to the girls, pointing his finger at Ashlyn. “I’ll show you funny sometime, let me catch you alone somewhere.”

“Alone? With a girl? Not likely,” Ashlyn replied.

Cris glowered again, but Corvis smiled a wicked smile.

“Let’s get outta here fellas. See you tonight ladies, gonna honor the old bitch that had the Seal. Sure you don’t want to come home with me after? You might get to wake up next to the new Seal bearer,” he said.

“You watch your tongue Corvis Landro!” Kyra said sternly. “You used to be a nice boy, what happened to you?”

Corvis looked stunned, even genuinely hurt, for a second, before shifting his features into a mocking glare. “Give me a chance to show you how nice I still am,” he said. Kyra sneered at him as Cris burst into ugly laughter. Walter joined in uncertainly.

“Maybe next time. See you soon!” Corvis said gleefully, turning to walk away. Walter scurried after them, but Cris took the time to gather a loogie, which he spat at Ashlyn’s feet. Kyra stepped forward and put her hand on Ashlyn’s arm just in case, but she simply narrowed her eyes as the trio bounded down the street.

“I really hate those guys,” Ashlyn said.

“Yeah…Corvis really didn’t use to be so bad. I don’t know what happened to him,” Kyra replied.

“Cris. They probably started playing with each other’s peckers. Look at ‘em, I’d be angry too.”

Kyra covered her mouth, but couldn’t stop the laughter. “Thanks Ashlyn, but I could have done without that visual, I think.”

“Hopefully it won’t haunt my nightmares,” Ashlyn said. “Ugh. Okay, I better go. I’ll see you soon?”

“Of course,” Kyra said. “Meet up here before we go tonight? I’ve got some chores around the house, but shouldn’t take long.”

“You got it,” Ashlyn replied. “See ya!”

Kyra made the short walk home, thankful not to run into anyone en route. She didn’t like the way Cris had threatened Ashlyn. She didn’t think Corvis would be party to anything too bad, but it still made her uneasy. She wondered if Rena Humboldt had to deal with jerks like that in her youth. She decided that yes, she probably did, and that she likely beat them up for messing with her.

Kyra arrived home to find her mother still asleep. Not surprising, she had been deep in the drink when Kyra last saw her. Susa Bell was a profoundly unhappy women, Kyra knew that much, though she didn’t really understand why. Her father Jimm was a good man. A leather worker by trade, he brought in enough to feed and shelter his family…but not much else. Her mother had come from a once-wealthy family who lost everything after getting on the bad side of an Arms wielder in their town. Her father, a politician who tried to kick the man out of his town, was killed, and her mother was left destitute. She took her own life rather than live in poverty.

Susa was pregnant with Kylin at the time, Kyra knew, though she herself was only about two years old when this all happened. Without the safety net of her father’s money, the reality of her situation proved too much for Susa. While Jimm worked hard at leathercraft for meager sums, Susa spent most of her time spending his money on wine.

It only got worse as the kids grew, so Kyra learned early on that if she didn’t perform the duties typical of a mother, nobody would. She didn’t mind, mostly. It kept her busy, and seeing her father’s face light up when he would come home to a nice meal she had prepared was payment enough. Kylin was there to help in his own way, though he was hopeless when it came to cooking, cleaning, hunting, sewing…..pretty much anything that wasn’t reading or writing. He had a talent for both. Though most of Etazia could read, at least rudimentarily, there weren’t many who could write, and even fewer who could write as well as Kylin. She could beat him ten times out of ten in a fight though, so he generally stayed in line as a kid.

She busied herself tidying up, and had the idea of taking her father lunch. She wondered if he’d heard about Rena, then realized he probably wouldn’t really care. He didn’t think about the Divine Arms much anymore. She can’t remember the last time he trained. She understood, he spent all his time working and exhausted, but she still thought it was sad. Being an Arms wielder gave her something to strive for, if nothing else. It was endlessly fascinating to her, the idea that anyone, anyone, could become one of the most powerful people in Etazia literally overnight. She knew that the odds of it happening were small, but that didn’t matter. You didn’t train because you expected to be chosen. You did it to be prepared in case you were.

She made lunch: ham, cheese and bread, with some spiced mashed apples. She entered her parent’s room, where her mother was still snoring loudly, sprawled across the bed. One leg was hanging off the

side, which Kyra gently lifted and returned to the bed. She put the plate of food on the small table beside the bed, and began to retreat. She stopped when she reached the door, however, as she heard her mother stir, and start coughing.

Kyra hesitated, then turned around. Her mother was sitting up, attempting to hack up a lung, by the sound of it.

“What’re you standing there for?” Susa said between coughs. “Get me some water, please.”

Kyra turned without a word, and fetched some water for her mother. She returned to find Susa sitting up in bed, rubbing her head. She grabbed the water from Kyra without a word, and finished it in three large gulps. She handed the cup back to Kyra, and wiped her mouth.

“Thank you baby,” she said, her voice coarse and scratchy.

Kyra nodded and began to leave, but Susa spoke up again.

“Where are you in a rush too?” She said.

“Taking father his lunch. I expect the village will be busy, everyone will be out tonight,” Kyra said.

“Out? Whatever for?”

“Oh. You’ve not heard,” Kyra said.

“Heard what?”

“Rena Humboldt is dead, passed away in her sleep last night,” Kyra said.

Susa rubbed her head, trying to think. “Rena Humboldt? Is that the old lady that lives over past the Rodrik farm? Judgey old woman, serves her right,” she said.

“What? No, mother, Rena Humboldt. She wielded the White Seal for years and years. She came through the village not long ago. Me and Kylin wouldn’t stop talking about it, remember?”

Susa closed her eyes and nodded her head. “Yes, yes, I remember. She was very old, if I recall correctly. Was likely a mercy. I’d hope someone would put me out of misery long before then.”

“At the rate you’re going, I don’t think that will be necessary,” Kyra thought, though she was immediately ashamed of herself. What kind of daughter had those kind of thoughts about her mother?

“In any case, we are attending a vigil in her memory tonight. I don’t expect you or father to come, Kylin and I will be attending. She was something of a hero of mine,” Kyra said.

“Don’t have heroes Kyra, they will always disappoint you. And no, I won’t be attending. All the priests there are so judgmental, I can see it in their eyes every time I go to that damn temple,” Susa said.

“Okay, mother, you do as you please. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should catch father before he finds his own lunch, I’d like to surprise him.”

“Oh sure, mustn’t keep your father waiting. Oh, the Blades know how much he deserves a hand delivered lunch. Oh…my head is hurting so. Go on then, get out of here,” Susa said.

Kyra sighed, almost said something….then thought better of it. What good would it do? She simply nodded her head, smiled and retreated from the room. She gathered herself outside the bedroom door for a second. She did not like the person she was around her mother. And the worst part was, she always had to be the bigger person. Her mom regarded every interaction as some perceived slight. Every conversation was just a game where there must be a winner and a loser, and Susa Bell was never going to be the loser. “Just rise above it, Kyra,” she thought to herself. She gathered the food and left.

Mao Village not a particularly large place; her father’s shop was only a few blocks away. The town was bustling by its meager standards. She passed a group of girls a few years younger than herself, whispering and giggling to themselves.

“My mother made me a dress weeks ago I’ve been dying to wear. It’s blue…it matches Matt’s eyes. Tonight will be perfect!” one of them said.

“Oh, is Matt going to be there? I heard he was visiting his aunt across the lake?” a short-haired girl said.

“What? When? No, it was going to be perfect!” the first girl replied furiously.

“I-I’m sorry Trisha, I thought you knew!” the other girl said. Their conversation devolved into babbles as they walked past. Kyra smiled. In a town like Mao Village, even a vigil for a deceased Arms wielder passed as a premier social event. Kyra hasn’t seen the town this abuzz since the Apple Seed Festival.

She loved the smell of the village. Sometimes when the wind was just right, it was as if you were on a boat in the middle of the lake, the scent of the water was so strong. It was a quiet place, but it was the only home Kyra had ever known, and she wouldn’t trade it for the capital city of Alcin if she could. Not that she had ever been to Alcin.

She wound her way through the streets, stopping to pet Oslo outside of Macklin’s pub. She had heard a woman supposedly wielding a Divine Arm had been in here drinking last night, and wondered who it might have been. Probably nobody.

She managed to tear herself away from Oslo, and entered her father’s building. He was working on a pair of boots when she walked in. He lifted his head from his work when he heard her enter, smiling broadly.

“Well hello there dear. What brings my lovely daughter by?” He asked.

“Oh, just thought I’d bring my favorite father some lunch. Sadly, he wasn’t available, would you like it instead?”

He laughed, a big, booming laugh that belied his slight frame.

“Hate to take a man’s lunch, but I gotta eat too!” he said merrily. Kyra set his lunch down in front of him and gave him a hug.

“It’s good to see you papa, how’s work today?” she asked.

“Oh, well enough, I suppose,” he said, already beginning to tear into his lunch. “Thank you dear. By the blades, I was famished.”

Kyra giggled as he wolfed down his food. He was a good man, but never one for manners. He finished up, wiped his mouth and sat back with a satisfied look on his face.

“By the blades father, you were hungry. It was good, I hope?” Kyra asked.

Jimm opened his mouth to answer, but instead a long, loud belch escaped him. He looked quite surprised at it, then smiled.

“I’d say that’s a yes,” he said.

“Father!” Kyra said disapprovingly. “You ought not do that in front of a lady, you know.”

“I know, I know, you’re right,” he said. “This old goat won’t ever learn, can you ever forgive me?”

Kyra let out a resigned sigh. “You’re hopeless.”

Jimm smiled, but Kyra saw it falter almost immediately.

“How is your mother this morning, have you seen her?” he asked.

“Yes, she was….,” she started.

“Still asleep? Or up by now? Not sure which is worse,” he said.

“Papa,” Kyra said softly.

“It’s ok, child. I’m sorry, you were saying?”

“She was up when I left. I talked to her a little before I left.”

Jimm nodded but didn’t say anything. The look on his face pained Kyra’s heart.

“Dad, listen, I…” she started, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

Jimm cocked his head and looked at her. “What is it, sweetling?”

“I….I was just wondering if you had heard the news. About Rena?” she said, thankful something else had come to her.

“I did, I did, Jamie Codd told me,” he said. “Terrible tragedy. If memory serves, she came through this way not too long ago?”

“She did, yes,” Kyra said. “Kylin wanted so bad to speak with her, but we did get to see her at least.”

“Well, that’s good,” Jimm said. “I heard there is a vigil tonight, I’m sure you and Ashlyn are going? I don’t even have to ask about Kylin, I’m sure he’s been preparing for it all day.”

“Sure, we’re going. And yeah, we saw him earlier. Would you…” Kyra began.

“Want to come? Nah, thank you, but I think I’ll pass. You know me,” Jimm replied.

Kyra did indeed. She loved her father, but he was not a social man. And he could care less who the Arms chose, as long as they left him and his family alone. Her father had been like that all her life. Of course, he tried after he met Susa, who considered herself something of a socialite. But she was the one who

chose the handsome, insular leathersmith, a man who was more comfortable making boots in his office than charming the nobles. As far as that went, Kyra was in agreement with him.

“Are you sure Dad?” Kyra asked. “Might be nice to get out, you know? I know it’s just a vigil, but…” She trailed off.

“I’m sure sweetling, but thank you. I’ve got stuff to do around the house anyway. Really, it’s fine. You and Ashlyn go, and make sure Kylin doesn’t run himself ragged. I know Rena meant a lot to you.” He paused. “I met her once. Long ago. Did I ever tell you that?”

Kyra was shocked. He may as well have just announced he had met the King of Leosia for lunch yesterday.

“What, no, when? How have you not told me this?” Kyra asked incredulously.

Jimm laughed and smiled a little, though it seemed to Kyra to be tinged with sadness.

“When I was a young ‘un. Younger than you, and not by a couple of weeks. I was a farmhand out at what used to be Jerith Naddler’s farm, though he and his family moved off east somewhere last I heard. I’m sure he’s long gone now. Can’t remember where they got off too.”

“Dad!” Kyra interjected.

“Right, sorry.” Jimm said. “Anyways, I was pulling cotto, when I heard a fuss coming down the road. I walk over to see what’s going on, and find a young man who’d been stabbed damn near to death, had a hole in his chest you could almost see through. And Rena was basically carrying him along. She asked me if there was anyone around who could patch the man up.”

“What? Seriously, how has this never came up before now?” Kyra asked again.

“Not sure, didn’t think much of it honestly. Now, do you want to hear what happened or not?”

“Of course, I’m just….so what happened next?” Kyra asked.

Jimm eyed her for a second, seemingly unsure if she was believing him or not. “Rena asks me if anyone can stitch the guy up, so I tell her to wait there while I went and got Jerith’s wife. She was a seamstress, you see, and I figured she might know a thing or two. Sewing a person can’t be much different from sewing some pants, after all.”

“Sure, they’re basically the same thing.” Kyra said sarcastically.

“I’m a leatherworker honey. Believe me, it ain’t far from the truth. Anyway, as I was saying, I got her to come, and we brought them back to the house. I helped carry the man myself, while Rena told Mrs. Naddler what had happened. The man was a merchant. Some bandits had accosted him, but Rena just happened to be passing through. She used that blade of hers to cut them down right then and there, though not before the man took a sword for his troubles. I’ll never forget the look of her blade, a white sword streaked with red and black. It was….darker than I thought blood would be. Probably guts too, now that I think about it.”

He said this matter-of-factly, and Kyra wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Yeah, nasty stuff. As I said, he was in bad shape, but based on what I saw, she more than made them pay for it.”

“Well, what happened next? Did the man make it?”

“Oh no,” Jimm said. “He died, blubbering like a fool. I don’t think Mrs. Naddler even had a chance to start sewing.”

“Oh,” Kyra said. “That’s sad. You should have lead with that.”

“Yeah, sorry,” he said. “Rena asked us to bury him, so we did. Jerith had a note sent to his family. Think he had a sister or something he lived with. It’s been a long time.”

“What happened to Rena? She didn’t stay, help bury him?” Kyra asked.

“No, no, she left. Gave Mrs. Naddler some silver, and went on her way. And that was it.”

They sat in silence for a bit. Kyra was still dumbfounded. Her father had met Rena Humboldt, one of her heroes, and never thought to tell her about it. Her father watched a man die with Rena Humboldt. That was a weird thought.

“Wow, that…..is really something,” Kyra said.

“Yep. It’s true, may the Blades strike me down if I’m lying. But, enough old stories, I’ve got work to do. I expect you do too, eh? Be a lot of young men there tonight, I bet.”

Kyra sighed. Her father had never uttered a negative word about her love life (unlike her mother, who was happy to weigh in frequently), but she was of an age where getting married and moving out wasn’t unexpected. With Kylin staying at the temple most nights, and Susa being Susa, she suspected he was in no rush for her to leave though.

“The young men likely to be there are a sorry lot, and you know it,” she said with a smile. “Besides, that should be the last thing on anyone’s mind. This is a vigil, not some barnyard dance.”

“What is a vigil, if not a celebration of one’s life?” Jimm asked. “You’re young, you can’t take everything so seriously, you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Papa,” she replied. “Now, I’ll let you get back to work. I don’t know how long we’ll be there tonight.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll be half a hundred people with their own stories of meeting Rena, most of them probably fought valiantly beside her at one point or another.”

“Or tried to help her save a man’s life?” Kyra teased.

“Well, that actually happened, so no, not like that,” he said. “Go on, get out of here and let your old man work in peace.”

She leaned over and kissed him on his nose. “Okay, I love you, I’ll see you later.”

“I love you too dear, be careful,” he replied.

Oslo was gone when she passed by Macklin’s again, so she busied herself thinking of what she would wear that night. Just because the boys in town were a bunch of fools didn’t mean she didn’t want to look her best, after all.