"It's Arman's blessing you did. A true storm can trap the strongest man in the Veil." Sir Gavin frowned at Achan. "It's not something to be played with."
Achan gulped. "I just wanted to see who was there."
"'Twas Vrell, Achan! We were having a lesson. Do you think it would be anyone else?"
"To be fair," Sir Caleb said, "it was wise to be suspicious of what you sensed. Just don't experiment with your power until you've learned. You could kill someone."
Sir Gavin tugged his beard. "Sir Caleb, surely you can teach this better than I."
"We made a bargain. I'd take over his weapons training if you trained his mind. Gavin, you're the strongest of us all."
"But I'm no teacher! What if Vrell had stormed Achan? What if we'd lost him?"
"You're knowing better than to be giving fear a listening ear," Inko said. "You should be thanking Arman for this warning and be having no more lessons until you can be giving the prince a proper understanding of the art."
Sir Gavin sniffed long and hard. "That's wise, Inko. But he and Prince Oren must be able to speak securely. So we must continue to practice sustaining a private connection. From now on I'll lecture in your mind, lad."
"If we each do our part," Sir Caleb said, "we might manage to train you properly."
"We need to keep moving." Sir Gavin gripped Vrell's elbow. "It's still hours to the sandbar. Come, Vrell. Let me help you onto your horse."
"Thank you, good sir."
Achan cocked his head as Sir Gavin boosted Sparrow into the saddle. The boy must be crazy to be so calm. It was the second time in two days Achan had attacked him. "Sorry, Sparrow. I didn't mean to-"
Sparrow turned his pale, round face down to Achan. "Do not think on it. I should have warned you how bloodvoicing weakens me. What I do not understand is when we first began I sensed your mind like an icy wall. Macoun Hadar's mind was the same. Always a cold presence."
"I felt that in him too," Achan said as Sir Gavin slogged past to his horse.
Sparrow glanced at Achan, eyes wide. "But with you, the coldness faded. And then I could not sense you at all."
Sir Gavin mounted his horse, water drizzling off the heels of his boots. "The chill you sense is weakness. Achan's still learning. He starts out weak but gets stronger. With Macoun, the coldness is lack of control in his old age. That's why he seeks out strong, young apprentices. He cannot shadow people if they sense they're being shadowed."
"So when Achan learns fully, even those with the gift will not be able to sense him?" Sparrow asked.
"Aye. He'll be able to enter any mind in Er'Rets undetected."
Silence hung on Achan's shoulders like a chain coat. Water sloshed as a horse shifted its feet. A mosquito buzzed down by his elbow.
"Why give such a tool to a man?" Sparrow asked.
"Only to one man at a time," Sir Gavin said. "The man Arman ordains king."
The unattainable expectation gnawed at Achan. He reached up to Scout's saddle horn. "How do you know this?"
Sir Gavin looked down on Achan. "It was that way for your father. And it's written in the Book of Life."
Achan heaved himself back onto Scout. He'd never heard of such a book.
"Where is the book now?" Sparrow asked.
Sir Gavin sighed. "Only Prince Oren knows. Lord Nathak didn't find it a worthy enough treasure when he took Owr and the crown jewels from the palace at Armonguard."
Sparrow huffed, as if he had been a Kingsguard knight with Sir Gavin all these years and took this personally. "They discard the one treasure that matters."
Achan might as well be listening to one of Minstrel Harp's long tales. Could this truly be his life? Destined to be the most powerful bloodvoicer? Arman had not spoken to him since he stood before the Council of Seven.
What if he'd imagined it?
*
As they rode through Darkness, Vrell tried to picture Bran's face. She could see his sandy brown hair, brown eyes, and sunburned skin individually but could not put it all together.
Had it been so long?
Once she got home, her first task would be to plan her wedding. She envisioned herself in a blue gown standing with Bran before the priest and all their friends and family.
Yet in her vision Bran scowled down. I revoke my proposal, my lady.
A winepress squeezed Vrell's heart. But…why?
You are thin and homely and look like a boy. I wanted to be Lord of Carm, but that is not reason enough to settle for one such as you.
Vrell tensed, throat burning. But you said I was beautiful. You called me a dove.
That was long ago. I've had time to think. I mean, you've been dressed a boy for months and no one has ever doubted that is what you are. I'm to be a knight. How could I marry someone like that?
But you love me. You told Achan about me.
Only to brag. If you were here, maybe I could be persuaded, but you cannot expect me to wait forever. There are many truly pretty girls in Er'Rets.
Please, Bran, this is so unlike you. I do not…
Vrell gripped her reins and snapped back to her physical location. Another trick of Darkness? It had been a long while since she had spoken to another. "Sir Gavin, can we talk aloud? My thoughts are beginning to wander."
"Of course. Caleb?"
Sir Caleb filled the miles with tales of the kings of old. Hours later, they made camp on what Sir Gavin claimed was a sandbar that ran for miles along Arok Lake. The air was cool and damp this close to the water. After a meal of smoked fish and flatbread, Achan and Vrell practiced swordplay around a red torchlight stabbed into the sand. Sir Gavin kept watch with his nose and mind.
The red glow cast eerie shadows over Achan's face. It was difficult to see his sword when he swung it above his head.
"I like having my own weapon, even if it is a poor thing." Vrell held her sword the way Achan held his. "I felt so vulnerable without one."
"A man does tend to walk taller with a sword at his side." Achan swung at her legs and she managed to parry his blow. "I did when I first wore Eagan's Elk."
Vrell hid her smile. Achan walked taller every time he wore-she lowered her sword. "Did you say Eagan Elk?"
The red flame sparkled in Achan's eyes. " Eagan's Elk. Aye. That's my sword's name."
Vrell's mind spun. "Really?"
Achan grinned, lopsided. "What? Don't you like it?"
"Oh, no. It is a fine name." Only Vrell had heard the name Eagan Elk from her mother. It was a person's name. An odd name for a sword.
Achan tapped his blade against Vrell's. "Why don't you name yours?"
Vrell frowned at her little sword, feeling foolish to have paid so much for a weapon Achan found so inferior. Though she had only paid for half. Jax had paid the balance. Had the giant known the weapon was so flawed? "I would not know how to name a sword."
"Why not a name to fit the bearer? You're small and witty. How about Little Kwon or Firefox?" Achan broke out into a wide grin. "What about Gebfly?"
Vrell clicked her tongue. "Are you calling me a locust?"
"They are pests."
"Are you calling me a pest?"
Achan shrugged. "If the boot fits."
Vrell raised her weapon to middle guard and spread her feet in the sand, ready to fight. "I like Firefox, thank you."
Achan's hearty laugh made her crack a smile. "Very well. But I suggest you get it sharpened when next we stop, or Dullfox might be a more appropriate title."