detached themselves from the side of the building as she approached. The larger shadow planted itself squarely in front of her.
“Let me through, Bacchus,” she said, her shoulders tensing. “I’ve got something for James.”
Bacchus snorted. “The fine lady.” He didn’t move.
Kyra moved to step around him. Bacchus started to block her again, but the other shadow spoke. “Let her through, or you’ll hear from James.”
Bacchus glared and stepped aside, muttering loudly about a good-for-nothing wench. Kyra skirted past him to the door and entered without knocking.
She glanced into the storeroom as she passed. One man she didn’t recognize was polishing weapons at the back. Rand was also there, talking to a man whom she thought was called Alex. Rand saw her and beckoned her over. Alex gave her an amused look and sauntered to the window without speaking.
“I’m bringing a map to James,” she said.
“He’s busy,” said Rand. “We can get a round in.”
Kyra’s bones ached at his words. Practice fights with Rand were more like beating sessions. She was learning, but still hit the ground nine times out of ten. She suspected that was why Rand enjoyed them so much. “I’m tired, Rand,” she said.
“What else are you fixing to do while you wait? Pick flowers?”
Kyra scowled, pulled the map out the back of her tunic, and laid it safely against the wall.
“Bare-handed,” he said, motioning her toward some straw mats. “Hit me.” He raised his fists.
Fistfights were a lost cause, since Rand was so much stronger. He easily blocked her punches while overpowering any of her own attempts to defend herself.
“What’s the point?” she asked, raising her hands.
“You won’t always be armed.”
She humored him with a test jab to his nose. He brushed it out of the way and she skipped back before he could return the blow.
“Faster,” he said.
She lunged again. He blocked. Her other hand was raised in front of her face, and he knocked it back into her nose.
“You get hit enough by other people,” he said. “No need to start doing it yourself.” In the corner of her eye, Alex chuckled. She stepped back, exasperated.
“That’s enough. I’m bringing this map to James and then I’m going to sleep.” As if on cue, she heard a door open and close in the hallway. Kyra grabbed her map and headed for James’s study, reaching back to give her parchment a confirmatory pat before knocking.
“Come in.”
James didn’t look up as Kyra laid the map on his desk. She waited without speaking. Finally, he set aside the papers he’d been studying and stood, unrolling the parchment and holding it open against the table.
“The east wall,” Kyra said.
James didn’t respond. Kyra watched his eyes as he scanned the pathways and buildings she’d drawn. James lifted a hand from the parchment’s edge and traced his finger along a line.
“This walkway here, is it bare or lined with trees?”
“That part’s got young trees.” She took out her charcoal and reached to mark the detail. James shifted slightly to accommodate her but remained squarely over the table.
“And these rooms over here,” he pointed. “Did you look inside them?”
“I saw a bit from the window. They look like rooms for official records. Lots of cabinets.”
He studied the map a while longer. Finally pushing it aside, he looked up at her. “Has Rand been teaching you to fight?”
“We’ve been practicing.” Kyra wrinkled her nose. It still tingled from Rand’s blow.
“Are you learning?”
She shrugged. “Ask Rand.”
He glared at her. “I didn’t hire you to skip around drawing maps forever. I need you inside the buildings, and I need you to be able to handle the occasional guard.”
They’d been over this before. Kyra took a deep breath, trying to gather some patience. “Why’s fighting so important for going indoors? It’s the same guards, and nobody’s seen me yet.”
“It’s closer quarters
“Let me through, Bacchus,” she said, her shoulders tensing. “I’ve got something for James.”
Bacchus snorted. “The fine lady.” He didn’t move.
Kyra moved to step around him. Bacchus started to block her again, but the other shadow spoke. “Let her through, or you’ll hear from James.”
Bacchus glared and stepped aside, muttering loudly about a good-for-nothing wench. Kyra skirted past him to the door and entered without knocking.
She glanced into the storeroom as she passed. One man she didn’t recognize was polishing weapons at the back. Rand was also there, talking to a man whom she thought was called Alex. Rand saw her and beckoned her over. Alex gave her an amused look and sauntered to the window without speaking.
“I’m bringing a map to James,” she said.
“He’s busy,” said Rand. “We can get a round in.”
Kyra’s bones ached at his words. Practice fights with Rand were more like beating sessions. She was learning, but still hit the ground nine times out of ten. She suspected that was why Rand enjoyed them so much. “I’m tired, Rand,” she said.
“What else are you fixing to do while you wait? Pick flowers?”
Kyra scowled, pulled the map out the back of her tunic, and laid it safely against the wall.
“Bare-handed,” he said, motioning her toward some straw mats. “Hit me.” He raised his fists.
Fistfights were a lost cause, since Rand was so much stronger. He easily blocked her punches while overpowering any of her own attempts to defend herself.
“What’s the point?” she asked, raising her hands.
“You won’t always be armed.”
She humored him with a test jab to his nose. He brushed it out of the way and she skipped back before he could return the blow.
“Faster,” he said.
She lunged again. He blocked. Her other hand was raised in front of her face, and he knocked it back into her nose.
“You get hit enough by other people,” he said. “No need to start doing it yourself.” In the corner of her eye, Alex chuckled. She stepped back, exasperated.
“That’s enough. I’m bringing this map to James and then I’m going to sleep.” As if on cue, she heard a door open and close in the hallway. Kyra grabbed her map and headed for James’s study, reaching back to give her parchment a confirmatory pat before knocking.
“Come in.”
James didn’t look up as Kyra laid the map on his desk. She waited without speaking. Finally, he set aside the papers he’d been studying and stood, unrolling the parchment and holding it open against the table.
“The east wall,” Kyra said.
James didn’t respond. Kyra watched his eyes as he scanned the pathways and buildings she’d drawn. James lifted a hand from the parchment’s edge and traced his finger along a line.
“This walkway here, is it bare or lined with trees?”
“That part’s got young trees.” She took out her charcoal and reached to mark the detail. James shifted slightly to accommodate her but remained squarely over the table.
“And these rooms over here,” he pointed. “Did you look inside them?”
“I saw a bit from the window. They look like rooms for official records. Lots of cabinets.”
He studied the map a while longer. Finally pushing it aside, he looked up at her. “Has Rand been teaching you to fight?”
“We’ve been practicing.” Kyra wrinkled her nose. It still tingled from Rand’s blow.
“Are you learning?”
She shrugged. “Ask Rand.”
He glared at her. “I didn’t hire you to skip around drawing maps forever. I need you inside the buildings, and I need you to be able to handle the occasional guard.”
They’d been over this before. Kyra took a deep breath, trying to gather some patience. “Why’s fighting so important for going indoors? It’s the same guards, and nobody’s seen me yet.”
“It’s closer quarters
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