Infinity Blade: Awakening

really got to pee.”

He blushed. “Oh, right.”

He fetched a pot for her, then went off into the bamboo to give her privacy. When he came back, she was dressed and sitting up by the fire, warming her hands.

He sat down across from her.

“I’m hoping I don’t need the rope treatment tonight,” she said.

“No,” he said. “You came to help when I was fighting in the river, even though you were unarmed. You could have let those creatures kill me, then stolen the blade from them.”

“Steal from a pack of wild slaughter daerils?” she said. “Easier to get it from you.”

He snorted. “I doubt they knew what it was worth, and you’re sly enough. When they went to sleep, you’d have had that sword and been on your way in under a span.”

“You have quite the opinion of my skills.”

“It’s out of regard for my own,” he said. “You almost killed me twice. I’d hate to assume someone incompetent could manage that.”

She smiled.

“The fact remains,” he said, “that you didn’t have to rush in to help me. You did. Saving my life negates an attempt on it, so you’re forgiven. That is, assuming I can get a promise from you. No more trying to kill me, all right?”

“All right.”

“And you won’t try to steal the blade while I’m sleeping?”

“I won’t,” she said. “Or even while you’re awake.” She paused. “But if you die and I can’t do anything to prevent that, I’m still taking the sword.”

“Fair enough. Better you than one of the Deathless.” He held out his hand beside the fire, toward her.

She paused, then shook it.

“Get some sleep,” he said, rising to go fetch some more wood.

“You too, whiskers,” she said with a yawn. “We’re less than a day’s hike from Saydhi’s estate. You’ll need your strength tomorrow. Be sure to get some sleep.”

“I will,” he said.

He proceeded to stay up the entire night making sure the fire kept going and she remained warm.

Chapter Seven

“The real secret to good cooking . . .” Isa said, lifting the spoon to her lips.

“Is . . . ?” Siris asked, sitting across the fire from her.

She took a sip.

“Well?” he said.

She licked her lips, held up a finger, then tossed in another pinch of spices.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” he said.

“Don’t be an idiot,” she said. “The secret is patience.”

“Huh. I just failed that one, didn’t I?”

“As soundly as if you’d brought a salad fork to a jousting match.” She smiled.

“Pshaw,” he said. “Jousting would require riding one of those things.” He eyed her horse, munching on some foliage on the other side of their camp. A few days back, they’d carefully moved to a location that was more secure. They hadn’t spoken of the fact that Siris continued to stay in camp with Isa, as opposed to going to fight Saydhi’s champions.

He would go eventually. He hadn’t lost his resolve. However, if he failed, it would mean his life-and he wanted to make sure Isa was well enough to reclaim the Infinity Blade if things went poorly. Besides, he wanted to attempt a few things on his list, like cooking. So far, he was confident that one was going to move to the list of things he did not enjoy.

“They’re not so bad,” she said. “Horses, I mean. You just have to know how to treat them.”

“The same could be said of a persistent rash,” he said, “You know, I considered-for just a moment-using the disc on him.”

“Nams?” she said with a start. “You were going to draw the heat from my horse to start a fire?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d have killed you.” She said it frankly, though she blushed. “We’ve been through a lot together, Nams and I. More than you and I have, whiskers.”

“Well, TEL indicated he didn’t have enough heat in him for it to work. Makes sense to me. I’m pretty sure he has a heart made of iron, blood as cold as a mountain snow.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I saw him eat a baby once,” Siris added. “And not even one of the loud, crying types. A sweet giggling one. Pure evil, I tell you.”

She shook her head, sipping the soup. “You’re insulated.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“No?” she said. “Not a word in your silly language?”

“It’s a word,” he said. “But it doesn’t mean what you think it does.”

“In . . . insatiated? Insociated? A word that means you say stupid things and are never likely to change.”

“I don’t think we have word for that.”

“I’m sure I knew one,” she said. “Stupid language. It doesn’t have enough words.”

“How many words does your language have?”

“Many. Many, many, many. We have seventeen different ways of saying a person is no longer hungry.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“Nonsense. You just have to be patient.”

“I’m beginning to wish you hadn’t learned that particular word.”

She grinned, getting out bowls and dishing out the soup. “You are a patient man, Siris of the Lost Whiskers. Did you not spend twenty years practicing with the sword? All to achieve a single important goal? That is patience.”

“I’m not sure it was,” he said, taking the bowl. “I only did all of that because it was expected of me. Once I started, it built upon itself. Nobody would let me do common things, like wash clothing. They’d insist on doing it. I needed to train. Keep training. Always. At a feast, I couldn’t eat the good foods, because everyone was watching.”

“I watch you every morning, with that sword, working until you sweat. That is not the mark of an impatient man.”

“I train because it . . . it’s what I am. I can’t explain it. It’s as natural to me as breathing. You wouldn’t call a man patient for reaching the ‘milestone’ of continuing to breathe for twenty years straight.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Sometimes, continuing to breathe is a tough enough prospect.” She grimaced at her bandage. The wound was healing, but slowly. Getting a sword though the stomach wasn’t the sort of thing you just shrugged off.

Unless you were Siris. He looked down at the God King’s ring on his finger.

Isa followed his glance. “We haven’t discussed,” she said, “what I said. About the ring . . .”

“It’s all right,” he said, stirring his soup. He took a sip. It was fantastic. How did she do that? It was just boiled leaves and chopped-up bamboo shoots. “I figured it out.”

“You did?”

“I must be of the lineage of one of the Deathless. That’s why I can use the rings. It’s why the God King was interested in my bloodline.”

“Wait. He was interested in your bloodline? Why?”

“I haven’t mentioned it,” he said. “But I’m pretty certain he set up the system of Sacrifices. It might . . . it