Cyrus shook. His lips trembled. He could barely force out the words through the silent sobs.

“Can you tell them? Tell them I miss them? That I love them?”

Mari’s own tears were falling, but she would not let them halt her tongue.

“They know, child. They know.”

Cyrus crumpled into the chair and wept. The presence of Endarius eased away until Mari felt fully herself. She released the young man’s hands, then leaned to either side to blow out the candles. When finished, Mari climbed into the chair without a care for the tight fit. She wrapped her arms around him, and despite all his muscle, he seemed so small. He sank into her, and it felt like surrender. His hair scattered across her forehead as her lips hovered at the back of his neck. Her eyes closed. She traveled a world away, to a different time, in a cherished place of memory.

“I once knew a bird, a blue little bird,” she began to sing. “And every morning, I would watch it fly, fly, fly…”

CHAPTER 14

CYRUS

A year after their first major clash, Cyrus and Rayan stood in the same circular patch of dirt, wielded the same set of arms, and fought under the same set of rules, but they were not the same fighters. Cyrus would make that clear the moment their swords connected.

“Begin,” Thorda shouted.

Fighting Rayan the first time had felt like trying to chip away at a boulder. This time, he took a page from Stasia’s book. How did one break a boulder? By smashing it to pieces. He lunged at Rayan with every bit of wild fury Stasia had shown that first day he received his finely crafted swords. His eyes peeled wide, instincts taking in every reaction by the paladin. Just because he was vicious didn’t mean he would fight carelessly. He watched for openings, places where the other man’s shield would struggle to block. One after another, he thrust and stabbed, his feet a shifting blur beneath him so he could constantly change the angles of his thrusts without robbing them of power.

Rayan was clearly caught off guard by the aggression. He retreated several steps, his shield swaying side to side to block the blows. Cyrus gave him no chance to properly set his stance. Surprise was everything now. With every lunge he swayed a little bit to his left, which meant the paladin had to keep shifting his feet to reset the angle of his shield. Hit after hit battered its dark gray surface. Rayan refused to retaliate, but it was coming. Cyrus was expecting it. Needing it, for every bit of this exhausting assault was a trap.