Shock smacked me. Nash had a kid? I snapped my mouth shut when I realized I was slack-jawed. Nash was old enough for a kid. Of course, he was. I had no idea why it surprised me. Well, maybe because he hadn’t once mentioned one. And he didn’t seem like a dad. Not with all the flirting. That didn’t really make sense though, did it? Dads could flirt. I just hadn’t expected this.

“You’re surprised,” Nash said.

“I… Yeah, I am.” If the Prophet had his daughter, then Nash was just like Leif. And Leif would do anything for Rune. Anything. This didn't mean I could trust Nash, no matter how my heartbreak flared as empathy for him, or for how desperately I wanted to offer him comfort. If he truly suffered as we had, how could I treat him coldly?

“How old is your daughter?”

“Four. She lives in another village with her mother.”

He didn’t offer any more information and I didn’t think I should pry. Except, I had to pry a little. “So what’s up with you and Flare if you have the mother of your child out there somewhere?” Or maybe I’d pry a lot.

He snorted. “The mother of my child is bound to another man."

"Bound? Not just married?" In marriage, our people vowed their lives to one another, and breaking such a promise would dishonor life here. But being bound meant vowing the next life to one another, joining the gods in death as one soul and not two. It could not be broken. Doing so shamed an entire family, community, the gods themselves.

"Her family is very pious," Nash said. "As is his. Being bound absolves her of dishonoring the sanctity of life by creating it so carelessly."

The words made my stomach ache for him. Nash was the sin from which the mother needed to cleanse from her soul. It was common to have children outside of marriage, but not for pious families. "What sin did the man she's bound to need to absolve?"

"Choosing the Prophet of the Valley to swear his life to." He shrugged. "No one will speak it plainly, but he clearly regrets this decision."

I would want to absolve myself if I gave my life to the Prophet. Just as we could bind ourselves to another, we also bound ourselves to a community, and the most devoted did so to their leader as well. If breaking the bond between two lovers meant an eternal disgrace, doing so to your people or leader all but ensured damnation. And execution. No doubt about that.

Of course, I knew better than to believe any of it, but it was all my people knew. Though I didn't share their faith, I respected their conviction

"Anyway,” Nash said. “I’m not with Flare.”

“Only sometimes.”

“You sound jealous.”

“You wish.”

He smiled. “Maybe I do.” Nash nudged my bow. His attitude unnerved me. “Are you going to teach me, or not, Sharpshooter?”

“Not for free.”

“I have lessons of my own to offer.”

My heart fluttered at his low voice. "So… You teach me a thing or two about your sword technique and I'll fix your shitty bow skills."

"Oh. That's how you want things to be then."

Time passed almost as quickly as our ale. I guzzled the last of mine, threw my mug high into the air, and whipped my bow up. Even with the dizziness of drink, my arrow whizzed through the air smoothly, the iron tip glinting before striking its target. Glass shattered and disappeared.

I passed the bow to Nash. "Why is the Prophet working with a demon like Flare when he has disciples?"

He threw his mug and aimed. The shot went wide. “Damn.” He sighed. “Demon spies are better than human spies."

I cringed internally at the words demon and human. The neural implant was the only difference between those with power and those without. It was dangerous to think of demons as more than human, even if they were hunted by Prophets. That was how it started, hurting people less powerful. I worked hard to watch myself for those thoughts that could be so hard to root out. "Why the demons, though?"

"Disciples are too well-known to do the job.”

Nash had spoken far more openly with me than I'd expected. “Do you know how many?”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

He grabbed another arrow. “No. The Prophet doesn’t trust me. I only know because of Flare.”

“Has she told you much?”

“Just that she isn’t the only one. She controls information tightly. A keeper of secrets.” Nash's mouth tightened into a line. "Flare carries the whispers of the gods. I've heard she can even share their dreams of what will one day come to pass. She's learned how to steal powers from the gods that no demon ever has."

My stomach twisted as he spoke. Rumors abounded but Nash didn't strike me as the type to believe in silly stories. "She's been right about the future before?"

"Several times that I know of." He shook his head as if ridding himself of thoughts of Flare and then settled my bow on the ground. He collected the swords he'd gathered earlier.

"Drunk sword fighting." I snorted and accepted the weapon he offered. "What could go wrong?"

Nash stood sideways to me, blade at his side like an extension of his arm. "Well?"

I lunged forward, but Nash snapped toward me fast as a cobra. I scooped my sword and dodged his advance on the balls of my feet to avoid opening myself up to him.

His eyes caught mine through the snap of our blades.

"You know killing the Prophet won't be enough." I grunted with effort when I knocked away his strike. My world slid off kilter. "The disciples have to go too."

"None are as ruthless as the Prophet." He pushed me into a defensive position. "Even if one of them takes over, it'll be better."

"That's wishful thinking." I smashed my heel against his diaphragm, forcing him back a step.

His brows raised but I didn't waste time pretending. I was this competitive. This hard-headed. I brought my blade down hard.

Nash sidestepped, slipped behind me, and brought his sword up around me. Before he could get too close, I drove my own weapon up as a wedge between my body and his. He grabbed my hand over my hilt, carefully tilting my own sword to the vulnerable crook of my neck. Now he was just toying with me. I clenched my teeth.

His breath washed over the side of my face, heavy from our scuffle. One hand over mine, the other wrapped around me holding his sword, we stayed like that for a moment. The steel of my own sword faintly kissed my neck.

"I win," he whispered against my ear. My skin tingled.

I broke free and turned on Nash. "Again."

I'd never faced someone so skilled with a sword. Fire burned in my stomach. I threw myself into my offense.

"We can't kill the Prophet and disciples at the same time." Nash deflected my strike easily enough that it shot a flash of anger up my spine. "Flare might help us make a deal with one."

"Any disciple who works with the Prophet can't be trusted." I shook my head. "Same for demons."

He caught my foot and knocked it out from under me, ripping my sword from my hand as I fell. On my way down, I twisted and slammed my leg into the back of his knees. He buckled and caught himself on his hands.

"Then how do we kill them all?" he asked breathlessly as he twisted for me.

I bashed my elbow into his side and wrestled for control of the sword he'd stolen me from.

"Shit." He snorted as we both held on tight.

Dizziness had my head spinning. “Wait… I need a second."

Nash tapped his fist against my shoulder in a teasing hit. “I think that means I’m winning, then.”

I slammed my knee into his side and shoved him hard with my forearms. We both toppled over, where I wrestled with the spinning world around me to push him back down. “Think again….” I pounded my fist against his chest.

He abandoned his swords on the grass, locked his arms around me, and flipped me onto my side.

I jabbed my thumbs into the pressure points below his collarbone.

"Ow." He pushed my fingers away. "Okay, a second. At least one."

His arms went limp and I dropped my hands, both of us falling onto our backs.

My legs were still tangled with his longer ones. Neither of us moved. I rolled my head to the side, opening my eyes to his. "I might be able to get help from some friends."

"What kind of friends can kill seven disciples?"

"All you need to know is that if I can escape, I might be able to pull it off."

He twisted my way. "I've been honest with you." His voice was low. Eyes searching mine. "It could get me killed. I deserve answers too."

"Maybe. We don't always get what we deserve."

I expected anger but a sly smile crawled onto his face. "Ruthless, again."

My eyes fell to where his chest edged my arm. This man was definitely up to something. I just didn't know whether it was the ordinary pursuits of a man or something more sinister, and I didn't want to be played for a fool.

"I might just be drunk…" Nash said. "But I have that strange feeling I get sometimes.”

I swore I drew in water instead of air. "What?"

“I feel like I know you from a dream I can't remember." Serious eyes belied the twist of his lips in a smirk. "That sounds crazy, doesn't it? Sometimes that feeling is so strong I swear it's real."

I breathed in deeply, heart pounding. Rune and our other innocents were held at the Prophet's village, and I had no idea if my escape would work. Actually making it to the Sacred School seemed even more impossible. And I was laying here with this man as if I had any idea how to gain the upper hand in a battle like this.

"I do know that feeling," I said. "I hope you don't plan to betray me, Nash the Unknown."

"I hope you don't plan to betray me, Max the Sharpshooter."

We looked at one another long enough that I knew I needed to get some distance before I made a mistake. Pushing myself up and then rising to my feet, I only gave him a furtive glance. "I better go back before Leif and Wren worry."

He stood as well and nodded. "Goodnight."

"Night."

Though I backed away, Nash didn’t leave or set his eyes elsewhere. He kept looking at me with that smirk back in place, so brazen, and so confident. If he’d ever felt self-conscious a day in his life it didn’t show one bit.

Very dangerous. I could not let myself trust him.