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The sun felt warm on my back, not unpleasantly so, and I waited to see if she had anything else to say. It was simple. She needed a sword, and I could help. I couldn’t help the world, and I wouldn’t help people who didn’t make an effort. I guess I agreed at least partly with Wrynn.

“Lerris?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “Because you don’t ask. Because I like you. Because you take me for what I am. Because you don’t hide behind half-truths and platitudes. Lots of reasons, I guess.”

She shook her head. “What do you think will happen to me?”

“I don’t know.”

Krystal looked down at the rectangular stones, black granite, that paved the road to the piers. The seawall where we sat was made of the same stone. “I don’t think I’m meant to stay in Recluce…”

I felt the same way about Krystal, but couldn’t say why. So I didn’t. I’d seen her lose herself in fencing with Gilberto. Already, he was hard-pressed by Krystal—and he had the experience. “What will you do?”

She didn’t answer me. Instead, we sat there quietly.

“It’s mine! Mine!”

From around the corner where the supply store faced the pier dashed two youngsters—a boy and a girl. The girl was running lightly ahead of an older or bigger boy, waving something in her hand.

“You give that back…”

The girl stopped at the dark wooden bench before the closed exchange. I wondered how you obtained currency or drafts or whatever traders needed that way on rest days.

“All right. Here’s your stinky model. Let’s go out on the pier.”

“You go. I’m going home.” The dark-haired boy tucked the model into his near-empty pack.

“Oh, come on.” The redhead smiled at him.

“I’m going home.”

“Just for a moment?”

“Oh…all right. But there’s nothing there but that little ship.”

“So?”

The two walked past where we sat with only a passing glance, the girl almost skipping above the stones, the stocky boy plodding after her.

“There we go…” I didn’t know why I said those words, but that was the way I felt.

Krystal glanced over at me. She shook her head slowly.

I shrugged. That was the way I felt. “We ought to be going.”

And we did, but neither of us exactly danced back to the dining hall and the chimes that announced the evening meal.

XIV

AS THE SUMMER drew to a close, some things improved.

As far as weapons practice went, Demorsal had been right. So long as I concentrated just on defense with the staff, nothing happened and I got better—so much better that even Gilberto couldn’t break through. Then he taught me how to use the staff against blades, and that was interesting. Why a swordsman would ever want to take on someone trained with a long staff was beyond me, but Gilberto assured me that some would. So I listened. Even there, I could barely make one move toward him.

I was almost disappointed that he didn’t pair me against Tamra, but he just grunted and said, “You’re as good as you’ll ever need to be with the staff and truncheons. Now you need to learn about blades.”

That was worse than the staff had been. Every inch of my body seemed to have welts from the wooden blades. I must have used more hot water in two eight-days than in my whole life.

This time I improved faster, though, because I decided my whole use of any blade was to weave an impenetrable defense. I’d never hold out against a really skilled blade-master, but the idea was to learn enough to defend against the common ruffian types.

Gilberto insisted I learn attacks.

I was terrible. “Why bother?”

He insisted. “There are times when an attack is a defense, and your body will recognize those times. You need to learn these automatically.”

Occasionally, as a respite, he let me spar with the staff against Krystal and Myrten and Dorthae. That was more for their benefit, in case they were faced with a staff, but it was still interesting. Only Krystal ever came close to touching me. Of course, I couldn’t attack much, but occasionally I found I could tap them lightly in embarrassing places.

Krystal laughed.