Free Fireblood (Whispers from Mirrowen) by Jeff Wheeler

Tyrus.”

“Many are frightened to travel the roads linking the great cities. There are stories that monsters roam the land, devouring travelers and leaving nothing but their bones. Others say that it is not monsters to fear, but bandits who prey on the weak. I have found in my journeys as a younger man that the road less traveled is often the safest.”
    – Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos

P aedrin stood motionless by the enormous metal doors of the temple, gripping a beaten-up staff with both hands; he waited. And waited. Dawn appeared as a flush in the sky, followed by cocks crowing and a flock of ravens heading east. He stood solidly, hands clenching the rugged wood, his stance firm and respectful. A bag with a single strap bulged against the small of his back, full of foodstuffs gathered from the kitchens, a small pot to boil water, two thin eating sticks, and a spoon carved from bossem wood. It also contained a few small pouches of spices, one of rice, and one of pepper-corns. He brought no change of Bhikhu robes, and he wore sandals only because he knew he’d be crossing miles of mucky sewage before leaving Kenatos. After taking mental inventory of his bag for the fiftieth time, he waited. And waited more for his companions to arrive.
    A creak from the inner door alerted him, but he did not glance quickly; he just shifted his eyes until he saw them approach from the doorway. Both were cloaked in the manner of the Druidecht, but he recognized the stiff, proud walk of the girl. Their headswere bent low in conversation. As they approached, Paedrin gave them a benign, incurious look, and nodded once. Their bleary eyes revealed that neither had slept that night.
    Master Shivu was still abed, but he and Paedrin had traded quips and insults the night before. He nearly smirked at some of the more memorable ones, like the jest about using snails to train the other Bhikhu while Paedrin was away, as they would need something to fill in for his absence. But he dared not smile. Yet.
    The footfalls approached, and the amber-haired Druidecht met his gaze. His skin was weathered by the sun, but he had a youthful look. Paedrin estimated that he could leave the Druidecht writhing on the ground in about the same amount of time it took to blink.
    “Good morning. My name is Annon.”
    Paedrin gave him a respectful nod. “I am honored to join you.” He looked at the girl. Her eyes were disdainful. He was expecting that. “It is nice to see you again.” He stared at her, cocking his head slightly, waiting for her to speak.
    She looked at him and said nothing.
    “My name is Paedrin,” he said to the Druidecht. He gave the girl a short glance.
    Still nothing.
    He almost smiled. She was a green nut, unwilling to open even a bit.
    Annon noticed the exchange and stepped forward. “Have you been to Havenrook by chance, Paedrin?”
    Paedrin’s ears started to tingle with heat at her rejection, but he kept his composure. Before he could answer, she did.
    “He’s never left the temple, Annon.” Her eyebrow arched at Paedrin. “He knows nothing beyond these walls. I know the way to Havenrook. And I can handle a blade as well as any man.”
    There it was. The barb, the derision—the withering contempt. It was just as he had expected. He had provoked her the day before, and she was holding a grudge.
    He gave her an inconsequential shrug, a slight twitch to his left shoulder. “I have no doubts about your killing ability. The poison in your tongue alone would be suitable if we required
talking
someone to death.”
    Annon raised his eyebrows, and a smile broadened his face.
    Paedrin wasn’t finished. “But should we face something particularly lethal, I am certain your looks would stop it dead in its tracks. I feel so much safer being with you.”
    There it was in response, just as he suspected. She was sensitive about her looks. Best to poke there first. She could not control the sudden blush of heat in her cheeks, though her