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Authors: Deb E Howell
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mouth felt like it was on fire. She coughed, sending a spray of liquid over the ground, a measure up her nose, and the rest down her throat. She wheezed and tried to catch her breath, only to cough and splutter more. All the while Jonas laughed.
Her breathing under control at last, and a more manageable tickle in the back of her throat, she passed the bottle back to him.
“I guess I should’ve told you to sip it slow,” he said. “But that was worth it.”
Llew coughed, looking at him over her hand as she pounded her chest with the other fist.
“I guess I should’ve known it wasn’t water.”
They sat, suppressed laughter between them; Llew wasn’t prepared to think it meant anything. He was still testing her. After taking another sip himself, Jonas held the bottle out to her again. She accepted it and took a second mouthful with more care than the first. It warmed her mouth, but she managed to let it slip down her throat. Its warmth spread all the way down radiating about her chest and settling in her stomach. She didn’t think she’d ever felt so aware of her internal organs.
She passed the bottle back to Jonas and he took another swig, his eyes not leaving her. Then he replaced the cork and sat the bottle next to him.
“What’s your real name, Llew?”
Llew’s initial shock subsided to suspicion. What did he think he knew?
“What do you mean?”
He laughed.
“You forget I threatened you with a crossbow between your breasts. And you throw a letter opener like a girl.”
Llew gaped. That had been a good throw.
“Make a habit of punching girls, do you?”
“I figured you didn’t want Alvaro catchin’ on.” He gave a slight, lopsided smile. “So, what is it? I mean, Lou’s a fine boy’s name, and it ain’t bad for a girl, but I’m doubtin’ it’s your full, or even your real, name.”
Llew found herself smiling back. “It’s Llewella.”
“Llewella,” Jonas repeated. “It’s a pretty name.”
“Yeah,” She nodded at the ground, reaching down to pick up a stick and draw shapes in the soil. Hearing someone say that name gave her chills. She hadn’t heard it since . . . She thought she could remember her mother calling her Llewella. Oh, and Japod. The way he’d said it sent a different kind of shiver through her. It annoyed her that Jonas could affect her so. In her experience, boys were nothing but trouble, even as friends – especially if Kynas was anything to judge by. She lifted her head. “Okay, your turn.”
Any surprise at her commanding tone was only shown by briefly raised eyebrows over the bottle as he took another swig.
“I want to know about that.” She nodded to the knife in his hand.
He looked at her, his expression at first stern then softening as he nodded, acknowledging her right to an exchange of information. “This knife . . . ” He paused, then took a deep breath, running his fingers along the side of the blade before holding it up, handle to tip, pressed between his index fingers. For the first time Llew could really see the weapon and appreciate its beauty. The handle was finely carved with a pattern, a beast – a gryphon, Llew thought. The flawless blade was broader and longer than a dagger and it too had fine details engraved in the metal.
“This knife is a family heirloom. Passed down through generations to protect my family from our enemies.” An ironic smile flickered across his features. “Instead, it’s taken the lives of everyone I hold dear.”
“You’re an orphan, too!” Llew blurted before she had even thought if it was appropriate to sound quite so excited.
Jonas nodded.
“Then why do you carry it with you? Why not bury, or destroy it?”
Jonas shook his head. “It can’t be destroyed. It was forged with one purpose: to kill the unkillable. It ain’t like other knives. It can’t be melted down. And so long as it remains in my possession, no one can use it against those I care about again.”
Llew nodded,
Her breathing under control at last, and a more manageable tickle in the back of her throat, she passed the bottle back to him.
“I guess I should’ve told you to sip it slow,” he said. “But that was worth it.”
Llew coughed, looking at him over her hand as she pounded her chest with the other fist.
“I guess I should’ve known it wasn’t water.”
They sat, suppressed laughter between them; Llew wasn’t prepared to think it meant anything. He was still testing her. After taking another sip himself, Jonas held the bottle out to her again. She accepted it and took a second mouthful with more care than the first. It warmed her mouth, but she managed to let it slip down her throat. Its warmth spread all the way down radiating about her chest and settling in her stomach. She didn’t think she’d ever felt so aware of her internal organs.
She passed the bottle back to Jonas and he took another swig, his eyes not leaving her. Then he replaced the cork and sat the bottle next to him.
“What’s your real name, Llew?”
Llew’s initial shock subsided to suspicion. What did he think he knew?
“What do you mean?”
He laughed.
“You forget I threatened you with a crossbow between your breasts. And you throw a letter opener like a girl.”
Llew gaped. That had been a good throw.
“Make a habit of punching girls, do you?”
“I figured you didn’t want Alvaro catchin’ on.” He gave a slight, lopsided smile. “So, what is it? I mean, Lou’s a fine boy’s name, and it ain’t bad for a girl, but I’m doubtin’ it’s your full, or even your real, name.”
Llew found herself smiling back. “It’s Llewella.”
“Llewella,” Jonas repeated. “It’s a pretty name.”
“Yeah,” She nodded at the ground, reaching down to pick up a stick and draw shapes in the soil. Hearing someone say that name gave her chills. She hadn’t heard it since . . . She thought she could remember her mother calling her Llewella. Oh, and Japod. The way he’d said it sent a different kind of shiver through her. It annoyed her that Jonas could affect her so. In her experience, boys were nothing but trouble, even as friends – especially if Kynas was anything to judge by. She lifted her head. “Okay, your turn.”
Any surprise at her commanding tone was only shown by briefly raised eyebrows over the bottle as he took another swig.
“I want to know about that.” She nodded to the knife in his hand.
He looked at her, his expression at first stern then softening as he nodded, acknowledging her right to an exchange of information. “This knife . . . ” He paused, then took a deep breath, running his fingers along the side of the blade before holding it up, handle to tip, pressed between his index fingers. For the first time Llew could really see the weapon and appreciate its beauty. The handle was finely carved with a pattern, a beast – a gryphon, Llew thought. The flawless blade was broader and longer than a dagger and it too had fine details engraved in the metal.
“This knife is a family heirloom. Passed down through generations to protect my family from our enemies.” An ironic smile flickered across his features. “Instead, it’s taken the lives of everyone I hold dear.”
“You’re an orphan, too!” Llew blurted before she had even thought if it was appropriate to sound quite so excited.
Jonas nodded.
“Then why do you carry it with you? Why not bury, or destroy it?”
Jonas shook his head. “It can’t be destroyed. It was forged with one purpose: to kill the unkillable. It ain’t like other knives. It can’t be melted down. And so long as it remains in my possession, no one can use it against those I care about again.”
Llew nodded,
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