3: Black Blades by Ginn Hale

moments later they appeared, walking slowly along the path. Far behind them, Kahlil caught sight of Esh’illan.
    As Ourath led Jath’ibaye closer, Kahlil moved farther ahead. Though now they were close enough that he could hear their conversation. Suddenly, Jath’ibaye drew to a halt.
    “You shouldn’t depend upon my affection,” Jath’ibaye told Ourath. “It’s not my strong point.”
    “No?” Ourath asked. “What is?”
    Jath’ibaye didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied the knots of dark trees and undergrowth ahead of him. Kahlil stood still as a statue, holding his breath. Eventually Jath’ibaye turned back to Ourath and asked, “Are you sure this is what you want?”
    Ourath flushed.
    “Absolutely.” He smiled at Jath’ibaye and this time the force behind it showed a little. “I know you’ll want to see these herbs.”
    Ourath started forward, but Jath’ibaye caught him by the shoulder.
    “I’m not a fool, Ourath. I know you’re not planning on showing me any herbs up there.” Jath’ibaye’s tone was oddly gentle in comparison to his harsh expression.
    “Really?” Ourath slid his hand around Jath’ibaye’s, twining their fingers together. He lowered his head to brush his lips over Jath’ibaye’s wrist.
    “So I want to be alone with you.” Ourath gazed up at Jath’ibaye. “You can’t be disappointed, can you?”
    Again, Jath’ibaye glanced to the shadows beneath the pine trees before looking back to Ourath.
    “We could stop it here, now.” Jath’ibaye spoke so softly that Kahlil hardly caught the words. “I wouldn’t hold it against you. People make mistakes.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You’re still so young,” Jath’ibaye said. “You can’t understand how badly this could end for you.”
    “How can you still think that I would regret being with you?”
    Jath’ibaye just sighed heavily.
    “Do you regret being with me?” Ourath suddenly demanded, his voice edged with what sounded like genuine anger.
    “I regret using you,” Jath’ibaye said at last.
    Ourath glared at Jath’ibaye and smiled at the same time. “Well, come. Regret it one more time.”
      Jath’ibaye allowed Ourath to lead him along the path.
    Kahlil rushed ahead of them, cutting through the trellises of ivy, while they took the curving path upward. When Kahlil reached the edge of the clearing at the top of the hill, he came to a halt. There was something different about the place now. Despite the warmth of the evening, a chill emanated from the center of the clearing. The tiny flame in the stone lamp flickered and spat. Kahlil hung back in the shadows.
    Ourath and Jath’ibaye rounded the last curve in the path.
    “Here.” Ourath caught Jath’ibaye’s hands and suddenly pulled him forward. It was clear to Kahlil that Jath’ibaye allowed this.
    Coming up from behind, Esh’illan made his move. He swung the silver chains and whipped them around Jath’ibaye’s throat.
    Jath’ibaye shoved Ourath aside, pushing him clear. Then he caught hold of the chains at his throat and jerked Esh’illan off his feet. Esh’illan gave a startled yelp as Jath’ibaye swung him up like he was spinning a child and then hurled him to the ground.
    Jath’ibaye’s calm speed stunned Kahlil.  
    Then the scream of rending Gray Space split the air. In an arc of flame and searing cold, Fikiri appeared. Kahlil almost rushed him, but then he realized that Fikiri’s hands were empty. The yasi’halaun was nowhere on him.
    At the sight of Fikiri, Jath’ibaye’s countenance changed utterly. The cold, almost bored expression that he had worn even while Esh’illan attempted to strangle him transformed into raw fury.   Jath’ibaye kicked Esh’illan’s prone body aside and launched himself towards Fikiri.
    Kahlil caught a flicker of a smile from Fikiri as he backed away, drawing Jath’ibaye farther into the clearing.
    Then Kahlil saw Nanvess, crouching in the deep shadows of the evergreens and holding the