Page 19 of A Kiss of Hammer and Flame (Fated for Hael #1)

She sat in silence as Terryl went on. ‘Everyone has a beginning. Sometimes it looks quite different to what we end up doing, being. For example, my own beginning is rather divergent to what I am doing these days.’ He almost sounded like he’d laugh, but didn’t.

‘What I am trying to say, somewhat dismally, is this: it shall not matter, if you do not let it. You are so much more than your station. Take what you will from your beginnings, but if you do not wish them to define you, do not let them.’ He held her gaze.

Cahra sat frozen, her heart pounding, his words echoing inside her. Never in her life had anyone gifted her such kindness. Not even Lumsden, who had loved her, in his way.

With searching eyes, Cahra raised her gaze to Terryl’s and found him staring back, an earnest smile on his lips.

Terryl put down his mug of cider. Then he delicately took her hand, his soft skin brushing the callouses on her palm before gliding to the tattoo on her wrist, and the crimson of the fire-keeper’s stone that coloured her Guild ink.

‘They say that ground tenebrite gives these markings their vibrancy,’ he murmured, the feel of his touch making her heart skip. ‘Is that true?’

‘Yes,’ she whispered, struggling to speak. ‘For smiths, it symbolises the forge’s fire, its ever-burning heat. It’s why Veil’s Eve is so important to us… It’s tonight, you know.’

‘Ah, of course,’ he replied, tracing languid circles around the tattoo with his fingers. ‘Veil’s Eve, when the space between the veil and void is at its thinnest.’

‘And when people lift the veil on hidden truths and bear witness to those of others,’ Cahra breathed, the words all rushing out at once.

‘Oh?’ Terryl arched an eyebrow. ‘Do you have anything else that you wish to share?’ The lord’s voice was low and teasing.

Seers, yes… She felt heady, bewildered yet exhilarated. But suddenly, he withdrew, Cahra also catching the telltale footfalls that now approached.

From the shadows, Raiden’s voice broke in. ‘Supper is served.’ He turned to her. ‘How’s your leg?’ The Captain’s words were gruff, but at least they were sincere.

Meanwhile, Cahra’s head was still spinning from what he’d interrupted. Eventually, she flashed Raiden a smile. ‘I’m okay.’ She went to stand, Terryl at her side as she levered herself to her feet.

Raiden watched Cahra’s careful movements as they returned to Langera, who was doling out servings of pheasant, gravy and a selection of vegetables, the succulent scent of cooked meat and rosemary and thyme wafting ever closer. He cleared his throat.

‘So,’ Raiden said to Cahra, ‘I was thinking. As a way of rewarding you for your help, how would you like to learn a weapon?’

Cahra, mere steps from mouth-watering food, hobbled to a stop. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Don’t worry, I’ve already sought his permission,’ Raiden told her, nodding to Terryl.

‘Look, you saved me today. You saved him today,’ Raiden continued, as the lord smiled.

‘And you have my thanks. So if, somehow, we needed your help again in future, knowing you can hold your own against a soldier wouldn’t hurt. ’

‘I held my own just fine today,’ Cahra retorted.

‘Against a weapon-wielding soldier focused on you . What do you say?’

She considered. Terryl had dismissed her as a fighter, which normally she wouldn’t give a fig about, but she had been trying to help him. It wouldn’t hurt to learn a weapon, especially from someone like Raiden. Hael, it might even help her smithing.

‘I say yes.’ She grinned. ‘When do we start?’

‘Not tonight,’ Raiden chuckled, then winced, cupping his stitches.

She snickered and took a step towards the table, and was then gritting her own teeth as she slid on a stray rock, sore knee barking. ‘Fair,’ she admitted, Terryl at her arm. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, catching Raiden’s look.

Raiden’s eyes flitted between her and Terryl. Maybe it should have made her nervous. It was almost like he knew something had shifted, however slight.

But she didn’t care. For once, she felt happy. She didn’t want it to end.

The food was delicious, the pheasant tender with a crisp exterior, and the vegetables shimmered in a sweet honey glaze.

Cahra talked and laughed with the people of Luminaux for the rest of the night, Terryl keeping her company.

As the evening progressed, others peeled away to sleep or guard the cave, leaving her and Terryl alone.

Even as her body craved sleep, the memory of Terryl’s hand on hers buzzed in the corner of her brain.

But eventually, she couldn’t resist the lull of the fire’s warmth.

Terryl chuckled. ‘You need rest,’ he said, his voice hushed as people hunkered in the cave’s corners, with Raiden’s sentries by its entrance.

‘Mmmm,’ Cahra mumbled, her eyes fluttering shut again. She heard Terryl chuckle as he stood to leave. She was on the verge of nodding off when he returned.

‘Come along,’ Terryl said, gently tugging Cahra to her feet with surprising strength.

He led her to a dying torch, half-way down the cave’s length, then sat her on clean bedding as he eased off her boots.

She was too tired to be embarrassed about her holey socks as he held the bed covers open for her and she fell in.

Pulling the blankets to her chin, Terryl paused.

And though her eyes were closed, she could feel him watching her.

Just as she was on the precipice of sleep, Terryl ventured to stroke her hair, and she smiled at his intoxicating touch, at the warm luxury of the strange bed. She rubbed her eyes, struggling for words to keep the moment from slipping away.

But her consciousness was pulling her, dragging her into its peaceful depths, and it was all Cahra could do not to surrender.

All thoughts faded as she let the darkness come, a smile on her face.