Chapter 7

The wooden sword was perfectly balanced, though lighter than a metal sword. Kenner had his own metal forge and carved the wooden ones himself. I’d left my sword in my room. Kenner made it for me when my father commissioned it. Kenner said it was his best work. I looked at the swords on the wall and had trouble believing it. They were all beautifully detailed and made with love.

We went straight to the courtyard to the area where I’d watched him and my father practice. There were rises of different heights on all sides with sand traps between. I would listen to the clash of their swords for hours as they dodged, jumped, and charged.

My father never told Kenner he took it easy on him but I knew. We faced each other but neither of us bowed. Respect to your opponent was given after a fight. Kenner came at me with a solid mid strike which he pulled and reversed the blade so it came upward, looking for an opening.

My fingers tingled and I dodged the move, knowing his intent.

“You have been practicing, Tara.”

“Alone in my room at night.” I stepped into my swing that was aimed at his legs and he jumped back.

We parried back and forth for ten minutes but he was unable to get a strike in.

He dropped his sword to his side.

“You are doing exactly as your father did and disguising your talent. Did you think I wouldn’t know?” He looked hurt.

“I am sorry. I truly have not sparred since my father died.”

“He gave you his gift and you need to use it. Stop holding back and show me.”

I answered with my sword. Kenner managed to block, but after that my strikes came in hard and heavy. I killed him over and over. He kept fighting and never got angry. When I sliced his gut open, or at least made the cut that would do it with a real sword, he started laughing.

“You see her, Mira? She’s better than Max. The teacher has been schooled. I will be right back,” he said and walked into the house.

“You have made him happy,” Mira told me.

“I didn’t mean to show him up.”

Her smile was huge.

“He loved and respected your father. He felt like he failed when you left. No, do not feel guilty,” she said at my expression. “You had your reasons and we respect them. Your father had his secrets. We respected him and he gave us the same.”

Kenner walked from the house carrying two swords. I stared in shock at the one in his left hand.

“Is that my father’s?” It was. I would know that sword anywhere. My father didn’t have it with him when he died and I never thought I would see it again. A cold shiver passed through me.

“Do not look at me that way, my child,” Kenner said. “I dispatched the man who had it. He wasn’t too bright and he was not who killed your father. He was trying to sell it. He said it was a family heirloom when I asked. He died with his entrails on the ground beside him, begging me to kill him and make it quick. He wouldn’t answer my questions and it took him a long time to die. I watched until he breathed his last.”

“Thank you.” It was heartfelt.

He handed the sword to me. I gripped the pommel, feeling the leather cord wrap against my palm. The guard was larger than the one on my sword and this one was heavier by about a pound. My father allowed me to use it for building speed. After I exercised with it, mine seemed lighter and it was definitely faster.

I lifted the point and my eyes traveled the blade’s ridge. It was like an old friend and I wanted to cry again.

I looked at Kenner. He was watching me with a serious expression.

“Can you fire it?” he asked.

I lowered it immediately, unsure if I’d heard him right but fearing I had.

“What?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. My father was very good at hiding his gift and he’d taught me the same.

“I watched him fight too many times to count,” Kenner said. “He didn’t do it often, but if we were in true danger, he made fire dance on the blade. No one we faced was left alive if he fired it. I never mentioned that I saw it happen, but several times I killed good opponents because they were in thrall of the fire. So…” He stared into my eyes. “I’m asking as your father’s friend. Can you make fire dance on the blade?”

I had never tried because of the fear my father instilled. It was difficult to let go of his training and show someone what I could do. Hell, even I wasn’t sure what I could do. It had been so long since I’d used my gift.

My fingers sparked, the energy running from them into the pommel. I didn’t let the power have free rein, but I didn’t hold it inside either. I lifted the sword again and a low blue flame started at my hand and traveled up the steel.

Kenner came at me with his. I evaded him easily. His moves were fast but nothing he did got past my guard. Metal on metal rang throughout the courtyard. The sword burned and it felt glorious. I never attacked, only blocked. I also never retreated, though Kenner tried to push me back. I pivoted when he did and used my legs without giving an inch.

“Left hand,” he said.

I tossed the sword up and caught it in my left hand. We went through the drill again. The entire exercise was one I performed with my father many times, minus the flaming sword.

Finally, with a fine sheen of sweat on his face, Kenner dropped his guard and stared at me.

“What are you doing in town?” he asked with startling concern.

“I have two reasons to be here,” I said honestly. “One I cannot tell you, but the other is easy. I’m here to find the man who murdered my father and to kill him.” I hadn’t known this until I said the words.

“It is dangerous for you here,” he said plainly.

“It’s dangerous everywhere and as you’ve just seen, I can defend myself.”

“You don’t understand. There have been rumors for years that besides werewolves and vamps, there are other species besides humans. When I first heard these stories, I thought of your father. If I hadn’t seen what he could do, I would have been skeptical. I know I am treading into your secrets and you may not be comfortable telling us, but what did your father say about your gift?”

My brain was screaming at me to give as little information as possible. My father loved Mira and Kenner and he hadn’t told them.

“He didn’t tell me much,” I said. “He said I was special and I had to keep my magic hidden. He said you and Mira would be in danger if I stayed with you.” I looked at her with another apology in my eyes, then turned back to Kenner. “He said I would know when it was time to return.”

“Is it time for you to return?” Kenner asked.

“I wasn’t given a choice and I’m unsure if I should be here or not.” I shrugged. “It’s too late now. I’m here.”

A look passed between Kenner and Mira. She nodded.

“After you left,” Kenner said. “A package was delivered. It was addressed to you. It’s from your father and you should open it. Mira, would you mind getting it for Tara?”

She turned without a word and walked into the hotel.

My heart raced.

“The sword is now yours,” Kenner said next.

I shook my head.

“No, it is yours. You were my father’s friend and he wanted you to have it. The one he commissioned is in my room. It’s an extension of my hand.”

“I will save his sword for you. You may have need of it one day.”

He was stubborn and I wouldn’t win this argument.

“Thank you.”

Mira returned with a package about the size of a book. It was wrapped in brown paper and circled with string. She handed it to me.

“Would you be offended if I open this in my room?” I asked softly. The feel of the package in my hands was bringing forth feelings that needed to be handled in private.

“Please,” Kenner said. He took Mira’s hand. “We will see you in the morning.”