Page 43 of The Warrior's Oath
“Nice.” She jumped up and down, shifting her weight this way and that. The boots felt almost like a part of her body the way they moved comfortably on her feet. “I could get used to this.”
She looked around the room. This was it. There was nothing else to do but wait. She paced back and forth for a few minutes, bored.
“Screw it.”
Korvin was just next door, so the walk took her only a few seconds.
“Good, you are prepared,” he said when he opened the door. “Come in.”
She’d been half hoping, half expecting him to greet her largely undressed due to the hour, but he was fully clothed and bright eyed.
“Did you sleep?” she asked.
“Of course. And you?”
“Oh, yeah. Slept great,” she lied. “Just feeling a bit antsy.”
“It is normal before an undertaking such as this. You are still welcome to remain in Molok. The magistrate has graciously offered to provide round-the-clock security to watch over—”
“No, I’m coming with,” she blurted, that strange flare in her chest forcing the words out in a rush.
He looked at her a long moment then nodded. “Very well,” he said, picking up a small knife from the assortment of blades and gear he had laid out on his bed. “Here, I wish for you to have this.”
She reached out and accepted the offering, pulling it from its sheath, admiring the craftsmanship. It was a fine knife, well-balanced, and strong, but light, made from some material she’d never seen before. The grip was a composite of some sort with a texture that felt extremely secure in her hand. The blade itself was a deep green with wavy lines barely visible in the metal. Metal, or whatever the substance was.
Looking closely, the pattern kind of reminded her of a gift she’d received a few years back, a faux Damascus chef’s knife resting in her kitchen drawer back home. Only, these people were undoubtedly far too advanced to rely on folding and hammering over and over to make a knife. She re-sheathed the blade, feeling how securely it held it in place for so smooth an action.
“Thank you, it’s lovely.”
“It is a weapon.”
“Obviously. But it’s still a nice knife. What’s the occasion? It’s not my birthday, you know.”
“I would prefer you armed.”
“Aren’t we trying toavoidthe baddies?”
“Ideally, yes. But in any case, please, wear it.”
“Okay.”
“And the pointed end goestowardyour enemies.”
“Ass,” she said with a chuckle. “I know how a knife works.”
He met her chuckle with a twinkle in his eye and an amused grin. Like,genuineamusement. That was something new. Actual humor? What was going on with him?
As quickly as it had appeared, the smile vanished, replaced by his usual all-work-and-no-play demeanor. Korvin began re-checking his equipment with cool efficiency.
“We depart before dawn. It is a short flight, but I wish for us to be on the ground and well clear of the landing site before sunup. We leave for the transport shortly. Are you absolutely certain you wish to come? Once we take off, there will be no turning back.”
“You’re not leaving me behind.”
He grunted, nodding his head but saying nothing more. Not long after, a member of the flight team came to escort them to the ship. It was a small craft, maneuverable and with a diminutive visual signature. Perfect for making a quick drop-and-run at the edge of hostile territory.
They loaded up, settling into seats that molded to their bodies, holding them in place without the need for straps or safety belts, then took off. The interior lighting was deep red, ensuring their night vision remained intact. They would be landing in the dark, and every little detail mattered.
It was a quick trip, the flight lasting only a few minutes, but Nyota didn’t let that deceive her. The faint glimpses she saw flashing by in the darkness from the observation display showed the high rate of speed at which they were flying.
