"Enough!" she said as the cup threatened to overflow.

Kas chuckled. He had a friendly laugh, warm and deep. It made her think of her father. Poor father. She brushed melancholy aside before it could spoil her mood. She focused on Kas's hands. Large and strong despite the passage of years, they were covered with thick ropy veins. A tracery of white scars climbed the thick, hairy planks of his arms. When he smiled, his jaw slid sideways as if it were about to fall off his face. Their eyes met and Josey glanced down at the tabletop.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to stare."

He ran a hand down his cheek, under his bushy chin, and up the other side. "No offense taken. It's been a long time since this ugly mug felt the eyes of a pretty lady."

Josey looked around for something to change the subject, and her gaze wandered to the fireplace. "Why do you have a stick hanging on your wall?"

Kas turned to look at the weapon mounted over the hearth. Dust covered its shaft and metal head. "Ah. That, darling, is an old friend of mine."

"A friend?"

"Aye. I was first spear of the emperor's Fourth Legion. That old pike and I tramped across more earth than I care to remember. She got me through the Border Wars and back from the Long March."

"My father-" Josey's voice caught in her throat for a moment. She pressed onward. "He told me about the crusade into the Northern Wastes. He said hardly anyone came back."

Kas carved another slice of ham for himself. "That's so. Only one company in ten returned to Nimea. That was my last campaign. After watching so many friends die, I just wanted a little plot of land for myself and as much peace as any man deserves. Even an old warhorse like me."

Josey lifted the cup to her lips. "So tell me about Caim."

"I was under the impression you knew him better than I, young miss."

"I-?" She understood the connotation and managed to blush. "No, sir. Caim and I are only companions by happenstance. We're just friends."

"Well, what would you like to know?"

She leaned her elbows on the table. "Was he always… the way he is now?"

"You mean the dark clothes and hard eyes?"

"Exactly!"

"No, not always. He was a pleasant lad when he was smaller, before his father was killed right in front of him and his mother taken away to parts unknown."

His words sobered Josey faster than a shot of his bitter cha and reminded her that she wasn't the only one who had lost her parents. She couldn't imagine what it had been like for a small boy, alone, suddenly thrust into the world.

"It must have been hard for him."

Kas nodded over his plate. "Aye. It broke his little heart, and perhaps his mind, too. He didn't hardly speak at all after I took him out of the city and brought him down here. I thought I could raise him up proper, take care of him, but there was always something different about Caim after the attack."

"Different how?"

"Well, it wasn't so much what he said, or didn't, as how he acted. He spent most of his time alone. He had no interest in playing children's games anymore. In fact, he wanted nothing to do with me at all unless it had to do with weapon play. I tried to put him off, but I could see early on that he wouldn't be long for this little cottage. So I figured I'd best make sure he knew how to take care of himself."

"So you're the one who taught him how to fight."

Kas shook his head. "I can't take much credit for that. Oh, I taught him how to handle a blade without sticking himself, but not much more than the basics. You see, soldiering is all I know, but Caim wasn't satisfied with the simple drills I could teach him. He always pushed himself harder. No, he learned more in those woods, stalking the forest creatures and whatnot, than from me. I'll never forget the day he came home with a fine young buck slung over his shoulder. The thing weighed damned near as much as he did. He didn't have no bow or arrows neither. Not even a spear."

"How did he kill it, then?"

Kas chewed on a piece of ham for a moment. "When I asked him that, he took out the hunting knife I'd given him and laid it on the table just as bold as brass. I nearly cuffed him for lying, but I could see it in his eyes."

"He wasn't lying."

"Nope. Near as I can tell, he ain't never lied to me."

Josey let that tumble around in her head as she thought about how to phrase her next question. She couldn't let go of the things she had seen in the cellar of her father's house. Caim had done something, or become something. She wasn't sure which, but it wasn't natural.

"Kas, did Caim ever do anything… strange?"

The big man put another hunk of piglet in his mouth and nodded. "All the time. You've seen it. He's a strange bird, but loyal to the bone. Was always like that. He'd wrangle like a snake to get out of a chore he didn't like, but if he gave you his word, he was as true as steel."

"No, I mean did you ever see him do anything odd? Something you couldn't explain."

Kas met her gaze, his sea blue eyes twinkling in the candlelight. "You mean his powers."

Josey understood what he meant by the way he said it. She nodded.

Kas sat back in his chair and reached for his cup. After a long drink, he sighed. "Aye, I've seen it. It started not long after his father was killed. Caim went from a bright, happy lad to moody as the Sea of Torments in winter. But that wasn't all. He started doing things-things I couldn't explain. He always had light feet, but I swear he could pop out on you in an empty room. And trying to find him when he didn't want to be found? Forget it. He was like a ghost."

"Yes, what is it?" She hesitated, but then plunged headlong into her next thought. "Is he a… I don't know what you'd call it. A magician? A warlock?"

Kas shook his shaggy head. "Nay, lady. I've known that boy all his life. I watched him grow up from a tiny babe, and I tell you on my life he didn't never go for that sort of mummery. No, it's all on account of his mother's blood. I'd heard the rumors. Every man who served under Calm's father had at one point or another. They said she'd come from the Other Side."

"The Other Side?" The phrase pricked at something in her memorysomething she hadn't thought about in a very long time, a tale she'd been told as a child on stormy nights when her nursemaid would bundle her up in blankets and tell her scary stories. "Do you mean the fey lands? Like elf mounds and unicorns?"

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "It's a northern legend. Way up beyond the marches and the wastes is said to be another world, a place of eternal twilight. The Other Side we called it. Most folk pass it off as drivel, but you've seen Caim. His father was a young knight when he returned from beyond the marches with a new bride, and their child. The woman was a rare beauty, with skin like mormorion crystal polished to a high luster, and the deepest, darkest eyes you've ever seen. It didn't take long for the stories to start around, but rumors are like mice. Try to stomp them out, but there's always a few scurrying under the floorboards."

"What about you? Did you believe the stories?"

"I believed Calm's father was a decent man and an honest lord, which is as rare a thing as an honest wage these days, and a good friend. As for the rest, it wasn't none of my concern."

"Does Caim know?"

"Hard to say. He was too young to understand such things when his parents were alive. Later on, I tried to spare him as much pain as I could, little as it was."

As she listened, Josey felt something stir in her chest. Emotions swirled beneath her calm surface, and she realized she had been holding Caim at a distance all this time. He had risked his life for her, and never deceived her or tried to take advantage. Take away the fact of his profession and he was the finest man she'd ever known.