5 Onslaught by Jeremy Robinson Page A

but that is what gives me hope.”
    Kainda
chuckles and says, “Adoel was right about this one.”
    I
smile so wide it hurts.
    Hope
has arrived.

 
     
    8
     
    Now that
the three of us are a little better acquainted, Kainda lets her guard down a
bit. She had been pacing during the retelling of my story, arms crossed and
brow furrowed, but she looks more at ease now, as relaxed as she allows herself
to get while in hostile territory, at least. She sits on the cavern floor next
to me, unclipping her battle hammer and laying it beside her.
    I’m
sure she still feels threatened by Mira, so I put my hand atop hers and lace
our fingers together. Mira sees the gesture and frowns.
    The
part of me that is an average young man wonders if Mira is actually interested
in me still, after all these years. Things
like that happen , I think. The idea makes me nervous and uncomfortable, and
I’m a little surprised that I hope that is not the case. Without meaning to,
Mira became a central figure in my life, but the part of me that bumped feet
with her, clung to that photo and checked off a box in the note she left behind
has grown up.
    “I
was married,” she says, and all of my worry melts away.
    “Mirabelle
Whitney,” I say.
    “Did
my father tell you?” she asks.
    “Remember
when you took the boat down the river?” I ask. “From the
citadel? Before you killed Enki?”
    She
nods.
    “We
were in the trees. On our way to help. You passed just
beneath us and I overhead someone call you Whitney.
Just put two and two together. Is he...”
    “Alive?”
she finishes for me. “No. But don’t worry, he wasn’t, you know...it wasn’t the
crustal displacement. He was shot, by a robber who wanted my watch. Just over a
year ago, actually. Tried to defend me. It was a
stupid thing to do.”
    “What
was his name?” Kainda asks.
    “Sam.”
Mira’s head dips toward the floor. “His name was Sam. Well, Samuel, but I never
called him that.”
    I’m
more than a little surprised when Kainda lets go of my hand and puts two of her
fingers under Mira’s chin. The touch is gentle and caring in a way that was
never modeled for Kainda, so this is all her. She lifts Mira’s face so they’re
looking eye-to-eye. “If he died defending you, and you believe you were meant
to be here, then it was not a stupid thing to do. It was brave. That’s how you
should remember him.”
    Mira
sniffs back some tears and gives a nod. “Maybe, except that
he was more like Sol when we first met. Kind of a
nerd. Clumsy. Never really
stood a chance.” She looks at me. “But that’s not exactly true either,
because look at you now. You’re like Tarzan or Ka-Zar, or something.”
    We
smile together.
    “Seriously,
do you swing from vines?” she asks with a sniff, signifying the conversation
about her past has come to a close.
    I
chuckle and say, “I can sort of fly, remember? Don’t really need the vines. But
I probably could.”
    Kainda
is once again lost by the pop culture references and looks resigned to wait for
the shifting conversation to end. But then Mira pulls her back in. “Can I see
that?” Mira points to the hammer lying beside Kainda.
    “My hammer?” Kainda asks. I’m not sure she’s ever
let anyone hold her hammer. Not even me. Not that I’ve asked, but I think I’ve
always assumed it would be a bad idea. They seem kind of attached.
    “Yeah,”
Mira says. “Looks intense.”
    “Intense,”
Kainda says slowly, thinking on the word. “It has tasted the blood of human,
Nephilim, crylophosaurs and countless other denizens of the underworld.
‘Intense’ is a good word.” She lifts the hammer as though it weighs little more
than a dead branch, and holds it out to Mira.
    As
soon as Mira has the handle, Kainda lets go and the hammer yanks Mira’s arm
down. The stone head clunks against the cave floor. Mira laughs and takes the
handle with two hands, grunting as she lifts it up. “Holy
damn, woman. You’re strong.”
    Kainda
beams with