The Summoner

Chapter 17: Shadow

So much loss. So many deaths.

Kaylen's breath came in shallow, ragged gasps she tried desperately to stifle. Her eyes burned. Did any of her people remain? Was she the last summoner? How many demons had escaped? How many were destroyed for a greed not their own?

The grief rose and built and threatened to spill over. A tear escaped. She shut her eyes to prevent others from following. She swayed feeling dizzy but then Kylihr's hand wrapped around the back of her neck anchoring her. His warmth melted the chill that had sunk into her bones. They stood together in silent mourning his fingers gently stroking the skin of her nape.

Eventually Kaylen stepped away and unsheathed Night. The weirlight flickered, as if a breeze blew through it though the air was still. The orb drifted closer as if pulled. As she watched, Night absorbed Kylihr's magic where the light touched the blade creating the eerie effect of a wall of darkness at their backs.

Kylihr reached for the orb and it floated to his palm. It settled there no longer flickering. The wall of darkness remained, the light unable to stretch behind them, but Night stopped pulling the illumination into itself.

Fascinating, Kylihr said and Kaylen got the impression he, like she, was focusing on the orb so as not to have to face the sorrow in front of them.

It's done that before, she said quietly, pointedly avoiding looking at the graveyard. She looked at Kylihr instead drawing comfort from his familiar features. How was he already so familiar to her? It felt like she'd known him for years instead of days.

Kylihr raised a brow, and Kaylen indulged his non-verbal request.

Not with magic, she elaborated with a quick shake of her head, but it's always absorbed light. It's just not normally this noticeable. She paused and cocked her head as she studied his abruptly neutral expression. Do you know why? I've never seen the other blades do it.

I have a suspicion.

When he did not elaborate she asked; Care to share?

No.

Her eyes widened at the speed of the negative then narrowed.

Really? Because that was sarcastic.

I hadn't noticed, he said dryly. I need to consult some of my texts before I say more.

I don't need you to be right. Just tell me what you suspect, and I'll take it with a grain of salt.

This is not the kind of thing to be spoken of unless one is certain.

You know what? Next time we're talking about something I'm going to build up the intrigue then leave you hanging with ominous one liners.

Kylihr flashed her a brief smile, but it didn't reach the sorrow in his eyes. She wished she could chase away that pain. Instead she asked; Does it have anything to do with the blade talking to me?

Not specifically.

You don't sound surprised it does.

He stopped and studied her. Normally his intensity was unsettling but she welcomed the distraction now. As if sensing that Kylihr nodded and began talking.

Yet you do, he said as he picked his way around the first of the swords. Careful, he cautioned and held a hand out to her. She took it without protest and allowed him to help her balance as she stepped on top of the bound of blades. She grimaced and hissed when the tip of one sliced her ankle. She recoiled and nearly lost her balance, but Kylihr steadied her, preventing her from cutting herself to ribbons as she surely would falling on the still razor sharp swords. He remained quiet until she situated with a hand on the ravine wall to balance.