Neither he nor Magiere could find a solid link between the vampire Sapphire and the victims they'd examined that morning. Instinct told him if he found that link, the question of location might be answered. Completing their duty would simply be a matter of hunting down undeads. He knew how to do the latter, but the former still eluded them.
He sighed and arose, lifting his bed against the wall and picked up his punching blade.
Dressed only in loose breeches and boots, he maneuvered around the small room. He almost never took off his stilettos, so he practiced with those strapped to his forearms as well. It would do no good to adjust to his new weapons and then have to compensate midbattle for additional weight on his arms.
“What in the seven hells are you doing in here?” Magiere asked, as the door to his room swung open.
Leesil froze, legs slightly bent from a finished spin and his arm ready to strike with the new blade.
Magiere blinked, half-awake, but her eyes fully opened as her gaze slipped along his bare arm and the weapon.
“Sorry,” Leesil said quickly, lowering the blade to his side. “Didn't mean to wake you.”
Magiere didn't seem to hear him as she stepped into the room. She still wore her faded white shirt from the day. Except for her amulets, she wore nothing else that Leesil could see. Her bare feet seemed small for her height, and her legs were the same pale, near-white of her face and hands, from ankles across smooth, muscled calves to just above...
“Is that what the smith made?” she asked. “I was wondering when you'd get around to showing me. ”
Leesil faltered a moment before catching her question.
“A punching blade, of sorts” he answered. “With some changes of my own.” He lifted the weapon, holding up the wing that extended back along his forearm.
“Stand back and watch,” he said, and Magiere returned to the doorway.
He spun and kicked and then shot out throat-high with the bladed hand. A quick punch with his free hand followed, and he whipped around again.
The blade scythed an arc through the air at neck level.
“Might not decapitate on the first strike” he said. “But it'll get the job done. Wait till the twin is finished. Heads will fly.”
Magiere stepped close again, studying the bright steel more closely. A soft smile on her face was barely visible beneath the shadow of her hair.
“Soon you won't even need me,” she said.
“Nonsense, I'll always need you,” He answered instantly.
A brief and embarrassed silence followed. Again, Magiere's gaze followed the blade along his arm, and this time continued up along his shoulder.
Leesil had a sudden urge to touch her face a caught himself halfway to reaching for her cheek.
He pushed his white hair out of his eyes instead.
“I'll be quiet now. You should get some more sleep.”
Magiere stepped back to the door.
“It's all right if you need to practice. I don't think anyone but me would hear, but you should get some sleep yourself.”
“Good night,” he said.
She looked at him a moment longer and then closed the door saying, “Good night” in return.
Leesil set his blade by the table and jerked the bed back down with both hands. Dropping on it, he puffed the candle out and lay in the dark, trying to clear his thoughts. He lay quietly for a long time – how long, he didn't know – and listened to the click-tick against his window.
