Free The Living Sword by Pemry Janes Page B

where they were coming from. Thank you.”
    Rolan answered his smile and raised his hands up. “As I said, when the head of the family asks, what can we do but say yes? And don't forget, you're buying me breakfast. And you've been very generous,” he added as a steaming plate was set before him.
    “Well, you make it hard not to be,” Eurik joked.
     
    ***
     
    It was noticeably cooler inside the long gateway, though it was also more crowded as people on foot and on horseback navigated the steady stream of chariots, carriages, and carts filing in and out of the city. The sound echoing off the walls and ceiling threatened to overwhelm Eurik.
    Emerging out of that tunnel and into the sun he had to sigh in relief. But there was no opportunity for him to stop and enjoy it as traffic pushed him along.
    For a while, Eurik let it until enough people had turned off the broad road he was on; only then did he step off the paved avenue to consider his destination.
    Reviewing the maps he'd studied back on the island in his mind, Eurik once more pondered which route to take. Or more accurate, what destination to go for. The lands of the Mochedan were about two weeks away, and a lot closer than Volsom. But those lands were vast and finding people who might have known his parents would be difficult, and there had been Patheos' warning.
    Volsom lay far to the south and would take more than a month to reach, probably two. Finding clues there might be no easier, but it was sort of on the way to Vanha forest. His parents probably learned how to make Misthell from the Immortal, though he might not wish to see Eurik, and it was far from the lands of the Mochedan.
    And then there was the matter of the people that were after his sword. Eurik supposed he could have gone back to the Ichiru and ask for protection. Return home and tell Zasashi he wasn't ready to face the world. It was tempting.
    'No, the only way is forward. I will go home when I am ready, not before.' He turned his attention back to question of which way to go. 'I'll have to follow this road all the way to Buce before I can cross the Endria again. Might as well wait with my decision until I'm there.' Nodding to himself, he spared a glance for the monuments that lined both sides of the road for as far as the eye could see. He could only see a few duplicates, but all contained writing of a similar meaning. Here lies such and such, who did this and that. Remember me. Graves, thousands and thousands of graves, and this wasn't the only road so adorned.
    The san cremated the dead, just like Linesans did, but they spread the ashes out over the fields. They felt no need to commemorate their dead like this.
    'I suppose I am human in this. I carry around a blade I don't know how to use, because it belonged to my parents.' He drew Misthell. His eye stared back at him. 'Strange. I never felt a need to visit a grave that was not there, but Misthell somehow brings them closer. It makes me feel connected to them.'
    “Hey Eurik, do you blame me for what's happened?” Misthell asked.
    “Why would I?”
    “Because they're going after you to get to me,” the blade explained. “Even that Broken Fang-girl was interested in me, though she hasn't tried to kill you. Yet.”
    “I can't control what other people want, and you can't either.”
    “I suppose you're right, still ... I'm feeling a little useless here. You're taking all the risk here and I can't even help you out. If only I knew what my power is.”
    “Hmmm, have you ever considered that you might not have a power? Not every living sword has one, you know.”
    “No, no, I'm too awesome not to,” Misthell corrected. “I'm going to find out what it is, and then all our problems will go away. They won't dare to stand against me.”
    Eurik fought to hide his smile. “Then I better hurry with learning how to wield a blade, I wouldn't want to embarrass you while you're being awesome.”
    “Planning on learning from squirrels, like