"No, I'm fine. I made those chairs, you know. Hope you don't get a splinter." He made a smile at that like it was a private joke.

Caim took a sip from his cup and winced. The cha was just like in the old days, horrible, but it was hot.

"So," Josey said, "are you and Caim related?"

Kas glanced across the table with raised eyebrows. Caim shrugged. They were past the point where his secrets could do him much more harm.

"Not exactly," Kas replied. "I served his father for a time after my soldiering days. After his father and mother were killed-"

"She wasn't killed." Caim squeezed the cup tight. The old resentment bubbled to the surface as quick as marsh gas. "She was taken."

Kas nodded. "All right."

Josey looked Caim. "Your father was killed, and someone took your mother? How old were you?"

Caim took another sip. "Eight."

Josey reached out as if to touch his arm, but stopped before her fingers made contact. "I'm so sorry, Caim."

"Ancient history."

"Who did it?"

"We never found out," Kas said. "Caim ran off during the attack. I searched for weeks before I found him scrounging around the streets of Liovard, skinny as an alley cat and almost as feral. I brought him out here and we built this cottage."

Caim could feel Josey's stare. He could guess the thoughts running through her head, trying to piece together the shambles of his life, to trace the journey from that small forlorn boy to what he'd become. He could have told her not to bother, that he had chosen his path with his eyes open wide, but it didn't matter what she thought. Nothing could change the past, so the past didn't matter.

"We had some good times here," Kas continued. "That is, until he up and ran out on me. You were what, Caim? Fifteen?"

"Thirteen." He remembered the day like it was yesterday. They had argued over something; he couldn't remember what, but it had seemed like the most important thing in the world at the time.

"We had a fight," Kas said with a shrug, as if that explained everything. "I can't even recall what it was about. Anyways, Caim turned in early that night. The next morning, he was gone. You know, I went back to Liovard searching for you."

"No one asked you to."

"Dammit, boy. I thought you were long dead by now."

"Well, I'm not." Caim got up. The room was cramped and stifling, the air thick with regrets.

"I know I made mistakes," Kas said. "I couldn't replace your family. The gods know I tried."

"Save it."

Caim left the cabin. He went around back to the wide meadow lined by a bulwark of ancient boles. This had been his playground, the place he went to escape with his thoughts. Years had passed, but the sights and smells of the cabin brought it all back like he was still just a boy, wrestling with the same problems, asking the same questions. And still finding no answers. What had really happened all those years ago on that cool spring night? Was he truly alone in the world?

Footsteps crunched on the carpet of dry leaves behind him. "I come out here a lot," Kas said. "In the evening with my pipe. It's relaxing."

"Where do you find tobacco this far out?"

"A trader comes by every few months. I got a new adze last spring."

Calm's gaze wandered to a boulder at the edge of the woods. Almost as high as his waist, half sunk into the earth and covered in gray lichen, it had to weigh as much as a prize steer, if not more. He remembered watching Kas lift the boulder and toss something underneath before dropping the stone back into place. It had happened so long ago, and yet the memory was as sharp as a knife.

"You're thinking about your parents," Kas said.

Caim nodded.

"You think you're strong enough to lift that stone yet?"

Caim considered the boulder, and the mountain of history heaped upon its craggy face. "I don't know if I'll ever be strong enough."

"I think about your father a lot," Kas said. "Your mother, too. I wonder if I should have searched longer for the ones who did it. Maybe I didn't try hard enough."

Caim scuffed the toe of his boot in the dirt and kicked up a pebble. It landed beside his foot, flat and smooth like a river stone. A band of red twisted through the white surface. What could he say? Nothing. He had his own reservations about the past.

"But you know, Caim, I'm glad I didn't go back, because then I'd never have found you. Your father was a great man, the best I ever knew. He would have wanted me to take care of you until you were old enough to look after yourself."

"What about what I wanted? What if I'd been willing to trade a few years on the streets in exchange for the knowledge that what happened to my parents had been made right?"

"You still want revenge? Boy, listen to me. I've seen war and more than enough killing for a lifetime, and I can tell you from experience, that's an endless hole. You can pour everything you got into it, but every morning it's still going to be empty. It doesn't matter how many men you send to their graves, what's past is never going to change. It's time you learned that and moved on."

Caim ground his teeth together until sharp tingles of pain ran along his jaw. "I still see him in my dreams, Kas. He dies again and again right in front of me, and he keeps asking for justice, but I can't give it to him. What am I supposed to do? Just let it go and forget they ever existed?"

Kas sighed. "Caim, you've been walking a line between light and dark your whole life. Maybe it's time to choose a side and stick with it."

Caim stepped away. A sick feeling uncoiled in his belly. Suddenly, he didn't trust himself. Was he doing the right thing? How could he know?

"There are no sides, Kas. Just everyone looking out for themselves. That's the truth my father couldn't face."

"You don't see it, boy. You're in trouble."

"It's nothing I can't handle." He turned to face the man who had raised him. "But I need a safe place for Josey to stay. It'll just be for a couple days."

"Of course, she's welcome. What about you?"

Caim headed back to the cabin. "I've got things to take care of."

Josey stood in the tiny kitchen area. She looked over as he entered. "I'm not staying without you," she said as if reading his thoughts.

"It's for the best."

She crossed her arms across her chest. "You don't get to decide where I go and how I live."

He waited for the anger of her outburst to subside. The blush of her cheeks faded, but her fingers were knotted now, into a hard, white ball. She looked like she was searching for something to throw at him until Kas stepped through the door.

"We'll have a grand time, lady. We can talk about Caim while he's gone. I'll tell you all his childhood secrets."

Her eyes bore into Caim. "What if you don't come back?"

"I will."

"But what if-?"

He came around the table and wrapped his hands around hers. "I will return. Believe that."

She bobbed her head before collapsing against him. "You better," she murmured into his chest.

Kas cleared his throat. Caim gently pushed Josey away. He gave her his most sincere smile and a wink, and then he headed for the door. Kas stood in his way. Caim tensed, but the old man simply stepped aside.

"Hope you find what you're looking for, boy."

Caim kept his head down as he stepped over the threshold.

"Caim!"

He turned in time to catch Josey. She clutched him hard for a moment, and then pushed a small object into his hand. It was cool against his palm.

"Take this," she said, and stepped back.

He looked down into his hand. A golden key nestled there amid a jumble of leather string. Her necklace. With a nod, he wrapped the cord around his wrist as he went out to his horse.

Back in the saddle, he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the scents of pine and maple, good earth and sweet smoke. Then he rode away and left behind the two people he cared about the most.