She was in luck. Brandt had a room that opened out onto the street, and she was able to watch him sit down and begin to write.
So he would be sending a letter, then. A smart decision. It forced Kye to react. Brandt could choose the time and the place of the fight.
He would fight at night, away from civilians. It provided the best opportunity to minimize interference.
In other words, she had time. She could sit and watch him all afternoon and into the evening, but she suspected he would stay put. He seemed like a man who had no problem waiting in one place, like a predator silently preparing to spring on its prey.
If that was the case, she planned on spending the time with her family. Missing any supper would raise questions, so it was better to be present.
She returned home, surprised to find that even Jace’s antics upon her return didn’t bother her quite as much. He meant well, even if he couldn’t control himself.
Her mother’s stew was excellent, and her father had come home as well. Jace spent most of the meal regaling them all with the tale of how he outsmarted his writing instructor. Alena sometimes secretly envied her brother’s stories. In her world, she went to class, learned what she needed to know, and prepared for university exams.
In Jace’s world, school was an epic battlefield, where friendships were made and lost, and knowledge was only gained after literal blood was shed. Comparing their retellings of their day would lead most to believe they attended completely different academies.
If the military rejected Jace, Alena supposed he could always be one of the oral storytellers that graced taverns and street corners. In Jace’s world, even a trip to the market became a tale straight out of legend.
Most days she found Jace obnoxious. Alena preferred simple facts. Storytelling, especially the way Jace engaged in it, somehow seemed less honest to her.
Tonight, Jace’s stories moved her. She cheered as he finally won over the student a level ahead of him. She worried what his instructor would do when she found out one of Jace’s closest friends had cheated on an exam. Jace’s stories carried her away, at least for a while, into a different world.
And she loved him for it.
She helped clean after the meal while her father and brother went to go play a game of stones in the other room. Jace always got handily defeated by Father, who didn’t play down to any opponent. But the defeats only encouraged him further. Jace could be obnoxious, but even Alena had to admit that when he set his sights on a goal, he never wavered.
She tried to memorize everything, from the look on her mom’s face as she spoke about her own day, to the knowing grin her father flashed as Jace made a foolish move on the board. She even tried to imprint the smell of the stew.
This was home, and it was good.
She was resolved. Tonight she would watch Brandt’s final act, because she knew it couldn’t be anything else. Then she would return home and throw herself into studying for the university exams. They were only three weeks away, but she would be the most prepared any student had ever been.
She bid her family goodnight, then walked to her room. The night was young, but between her father and mother, the rest of the family had a practice of waking up before the rising of the sun.
While she waited for her family to fall safely asleep, Alena prepared for the night ahead. She wanted to be ready for anything. Her father’s knife was strapped to her hip, hidden by her clothing but easy to reach. She brought a set of lockpicks Bayt had given her early on in her apprenticeship. A mask covered most of her face, except for her eyes.
She was as ready as she ever would be.
When she was sure her family was asleep, she snuck out the window and onto the streets below. She pulled her mask down, so as not to arouse suspicion.
It didn’t take her long to reach the inn where Brandt lived. She breathed a short sigh of relief to see that he was still within. The window had been covered, but she could see light and movement inside. She suspected he prepared for the fight ahead. She settled in to wait.
Eventually the light winked out with surprising quickness, and a few moments later, Brandt left the building. Alena pulled up her mask and melted into the shadows.
Following him turned out to be an easy task. He never once looked behind him. His eyes and his steps were focused forward, to the battle ahead.
She’d never seen this side of the wolfblade. Given who he was, she’d never doubted his strength or ability, but it was something different to see it with her own eyes. Despite his kindness, Brandt was a man who killed for a living, and he planned to do so tonight, even if it cost him his life.
They left town. Brandt passed through the gates, his uniform allowing him to exit without question. Alena used her lightness to climb over the wall about a hundred paces away from the gate, passing just behind a couple of sentries as they made their rounds. She landed softly outside the walls, a sense of exhilaration coursing through her. She rarely left Landow, and never for reasons as compelling as this.
Alena followed Brandt into the woods.
23
Brandt paused outside the town, bending down to light a torch from his pack. He didn’t have any problem walking through the woods at night. Both moons were high in the sky, reflecting plenty of light to see by. The fire was for him to fight with.
He held the torch close to his face, hearing the song clearly. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but he thought the song was sharper than it had been in the past, the flickering notes more distinct.
He pulled a
