Skrew tried to smile as he nodded slowly and pushed the half-chewed fruit out of his mouth.
“You have to wait until they’re purple,” Reaver said, laughing.
Everyone joined her, but Yaltu stifled her giggle and covered her mouth. She was definitely the nicest one of us. Skrew took the joke well, though.
“Here.” Reaver tossed him a plump, purple one. “This one should taste better. And there’s meat ready whenever you are.”
Skrew didn’t waste any time. He shoved the fruit in his big mouth, almost hiding it completely from view, and snatched a stick from the fire. Skewered on it were five chunks of roasted meat, charred at the edges and cleanly cooked. He chewed slowly, turning the stick in front of his face while the juices dripped by and onto his feet.
I squatted down and examined the double-bladed scepter I’d taken from King Demetrios. With my sword, Ebon, I didn’t need it. I’d already given it a name: Clarent. It was made of the same Void-black material as Ebon.
I looked at Reaver and wondered whether she’d like the scepter. She still had the sabers she’d taken from the wagon in the arena, but one of them was broken. Clarent would be a whole lot more useful to her than a single saber. Moreover, she was accustomed to using close-combat weapons, like the MSM vibro-blade.
“I took this from Demetrios,” I said, offering the weapon to her. “I think you might like it.”
“Would I ever?” She grinned as she explored the weapon with her eyes and hands.
I picked up a stick and took a bite. The meat was tender and familiar.
“This is good,” I said around a big mouthful of meat. “What is it?”
“You sure you want to know?” Reaver asked.
I nodded.
“It’s this big bug I found before I was captured,” she continued. “It looks like a giant centipede. Lives in the water. Ambushes you when you get too close.”
“Steakapede,” I said. “That’s what I call them, and yes, they are delicious!”
“Water snakes,” Yaltu said around her own mouthful. “That’s what some call them. Others say they’re the souls of those who died a dishonorable death. The Kakul believe they’re the mother species from which theirs descended.”
Kakul were short, frog-like creatures. I’d encountered some when I first entered Brazud. Though I didn’t have more than a minute’s experience with them, they seemed to be bad drivers, rude, pugnacious, and probably as dangerous as a rusty butter knife when they weren’t piloting a two-ton hovership. The thought of the steakapede as their ancestor made me wonder how smart they were as well. Well, if they tasted anything near as good as this, perhaps there was some use for these Kakul after all. I chuckled, knowing I’d never even consider eating any creature that could speak to me, even if it was only to curse at me.
Reaver had gone back to inspecting Clarent. She suddenly passed it to Beatrix, who pointed at the activation button and handed it back to her. Then, Reaver held it above her head, pressed the button, and gasped when the blades unfolded. She shot me a look that could only mean one thing: Awesome!
We’d never trained with the exact type of weapon Reaver held in her hands. But it wouldn’t take her long to figure it out. She picked up the saber that wasn’t broken and a scabbard from the dirt next to her and gave them to Yaltu, who accepted them with a big smile of her own.
Yaltu wasn’t a warrior, but that didn’t mean she had to be unarmed. Plus, the slender blade seemed to match her personality and style. I was glad both of them were happy with the arrangement.
We’d left our firearms behind because, without more ammunition, they were little more than glorified clubs. Then we’d be carrying around the heavy, cumbersome things for nothing. I doubted we’d be able to refill them too. The only places I’d found firearms up to now was in Brazud and the vrak Refinery.
Skrew swallowed, slipped the remaining food off his stick with his other three hands, and gasped. He bounced the too-hot chunks of meat from hand to hand.
“Jacob sworded the king, yes?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Jacob is hero! Jacob fight! Zap—zap—Pew!” He danced around, occasionally nibbling his food as he reenacted the scenes. They were totally inaccurate portrayals coming from an overactive imagination, since he hadn’t actually been there. When he had completed his performance, he licked most of the meat juices off an empty hand and feigned grabbing his heart before falling over onto his back.
“King died like?” He peeked at me from one squinted eye.
“Not exactly,” I said. “But it’s a fair approximation.”
I stood and walked a few yards to the lake, gesturing to Skrew to follow me. He hadn’t filled me in on what had happened while I was busy fighting Demetrios yet. If his descriptions were accurate, which I doubted, it sounded like they’d killed hundreds of guards, and he’d been responsible for most of the kills.
When I knelt down on the bank, reached into the lake, and splashed water in my face, a tickle and pull at my neck reminded me of the artifact I’d won from Shesh, one of Yaltu’s people. He’d named it Spirit-Watcher. Shesh had been on a hunt with his group, and when they’d caught Skrew, I’d been forced to defend him. I’d spared Shesh’s life, and in return, he’d given me the black, crescent-shaped artifact. When you looked through it, the item showed the world in far more detail. It was almost like a visor you might find on a helmet.
What Shesh considered to be the spirit world was basically a heads-up display. It would show everything, literally everything, about whatever the wearer was looking at—even the pollen count in the air. But there was so much information, it clouded my ability to concentrate on any one thing.
I tucked the tech back under my shirt. It wasn’t useful to me, but I had a strong sense that it would
