Did I need something? Yes. Plenty, if he'd be willing to oblige. The Prophet's secrets for one. I rose to my knees. “Tell me about this blade.”

A grin cracked his expression. He lowered it from the sharpening stone and truly looked at me. “That’s what was on your mind?”

I twisted my brows. “What else would I want with you?”

My friend Wren snorted. Always ready for a laugh to help ease a crisis.

The guard's grin grew.

“Ah.” I blinked. He came into focus, not the warrior but the man.

“Ah,” he mimicked with a wry smile twisting his full lips.

Dark brown wisps of hair fell over his forehead, as dark as the earth after a long rain. Noteworthy to some, but not nearly as much as his sword. Why should I be surprised at his arrogance when he was haughty enough to sharpen his blades in the same cell as ten of the valley’s best warriors?

I gave the guard a side eye, with my arms crossed tightly. “You think too highly of yourself as a man. Your value is in that blade. Never forget that if you want to keep it in your hands.”

“Who would take it from me?" His eyes fell down my dirty tunic. "You?”

I straightened. “Easily if all you think about is your manliness.”

“Hm… I take it you never let your womanliness distract you, not with all that mud twisted in your hair.”

I touched the matted blond tangles atop my head that strained to break free of my bun. Oh, so, the bastard wanted a fight?

But then a twitch of a smile managed to crack the heaviness of Leif's expression. I knew him well enough to feel it wasn't for the guard's teasing, but for the memory that rose to my mind as well. Rune always brushed my hair in the morning while Leif complained about what a mess it was.

I tried to focus on the guard who'd given me hope of befriending him. My body felt so heavy. "Why do you have a little sword like that?"

He reached into his bag and pulled out an identical weapon, crafted for his left hand. “It has a twin."

I edged closer, forgetting about the shackles until the chain tugged against my leg.

Leif sat up some. “You don’t use a shield, boy?”

“I don’t need one.”

“I’ve never seen anyone use twin blades in battle," I said. "Only performance."

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He turned to sharpen his sword again. “Trust me. These are for battle. It’s a shame you’ve met my swords under these circumstances and not in the proper way or you would know."

“A terrible shame,” I said, not as facetiously as it sounded.

“If there’s hope for you yet, I’ll put in a prayer with the gods.”

“Don't bother. My fate has been sealed for as long as I can remember.”

“Sounds like a sad tale.”

“An angry one, really.”

Sparks flew from his sword as it struck the stone. "Perhaps, you'll find a way for it not to end here."

I looked for the other guards. Wasn’t he worried they would hear? “You don’t think I’m a heretic for rebelling against the Prophet?”

“We’re all heretics. That isn’t the reason some of us are chosen to die.”

“What's your name?” I asked.

“Nash.”

“Just Nash?”

“Nash the Unknown.”

I let myself smile, grasping for the opening this guard had given me. “The unknown… Mysterious.”

He sat back against the bars. “There’s nothing very exciting behind the mystery.” But his amber eyes told me otherwise.

“No one has to know it isn't mysterious," I said quietly.

“I’m sure prisoner isn’t all you’ve ever been called. What’s your name?”

“Max the Sharpshooter.”

“Odd name for a girl.”

I shrugged. “Max or Sharpshooter?”

He watched me for a moment, a slight smile hugging the corners of his lips. “Max.”

"My father named me after his father."

"Is he the one who trained you?"

Warmth from my father's hands on a windy day flooded my palms like I'd slipped back to that time. His voice filled my ear, telling me to look up as he raised my hands to the black sun. Heat grew within me the darker the sun became, as if I'd stolen its rays myself. It was the first and last eclipse I'd seen, back when I lived in lands of mild winters and sweltering summers. The opposite of here. Even in the warmest times, it was still cold.

"My father trained me first, yes. Then I trained with others." I chewed the inside of my cheek.

Nash tilted his head. "Is your father alive? Or your mother?" He nodded at the others in the cell, settling on the chief, who I realized for the first time was watching me. “In here with you?”

I swallowed hard. Surely the chief would see the benefit of what I was doing. "No. Not alive or here. Yours?"

"I don't know. I'd like to think so."

I anchored my arms against my knees. "Nash the Unknown… You told me you weren't mysterious. Do you really want to get to know me with a lie?"

A curl fell over his left eye when he looked down. "I'd never lie to you, Sharpshooter. Not when you have a name like that."

"Wise." I plucked my invisible bow and closed one eye, aiming between his eyes. "Might be the last thing you ever do."

Nash's eyes lingered on mine, and I could feel Leif watching us. Could feel his pain. I needed to plan an escape, and getting to know this guard could help. But I'd enjoyed this conversation too much. It didn't feel right that I could feel such conflicted emotions at once. I wanted to retreat, only Leif and Wren were my circle. The people I'd have knelt and prayed with if any of us were the praying type. There wasn't much time. My death beneath the eclipse had been sealed long ago, and soon it would be upon us. I had to save them from sharing in my fate, no matter what.

And I'd start by using Nash the Unknown for my escape, considering he'd seemed eager to give me a warm welcome.

Just had to make sure I didn't enjoy talking to him. Had to remember that pain prickling skin numbed by the cold ran much deeper than I could feel.