Page 30 of Red Demon
She leaned in, running a finger over the hilt in Asher’s hands, her emerald eyes sparkling with admiration. “Not a fan of the typical use case, but I can certainly appreciate your steady hand.”
Asher the steady-handed fumbled the blade as she drew alongside him, his tanned cheeks flushing. Ashmira reached out to steady the wrapped sword, brushing his arm. “The artistic detail is, well, it’s stunning. Rewiring a circuit should be nothing compared to this. I have faith in you.”
I looked at my brother with a mischievous smile, but he was all business.
Asher set down the sword and turned his attention to the code sequencer, turning it over in his hands. “Let me get a screwdriver for the casing.”
Ashmira continued to run her finger down the sword once Asher left. “You’d think someone would be too afraid of damaging the art to use it.”
“It’s durable,” I said. “But yeah, maybe you’re right. Those Asri rebels will get too caught up trying to read the script mid-battle that they’ll trip up.” I pantomimed being impaled, then motioned to my opponent to give me a moment to appreciate the artwork on the fuller before he drove the blade into my chest.
She laughed as Asher came back with the screwdriver in time to roll his eyes. “Excuse this brute.”
I chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in my chest. “So what brings you to Nunbiren?”
She let out a breath. “My parents sponsored me at an elite academy in Thebos before I was grown, and I’ve since failed to secure a post there on my own. I’m taking a gap year with the governor until I figure out what’s next.”
“I see.” I’d heard the governor came with about a couple dozen empire workers: staff and their families.
“What do you do for him?” Asher asked.
“Provided bragging rights until recently. I’m his daughter,” she said to the ground.
I searched her face, unsure why that would make her uncomfortable. “Well, it will be great to have another Chaeten around. I could count on one hand the Chaeten I’ve met in this shop who aren’t a soldier just passing through.”
“I’m expecting an adjustment from Thebos in that regard, yes,” she said, still smiling to the ground.
Meanwhile, Asher had removed the sequencer’s casing and was squinting at the parts. Most of the machine was empty space: a cavity to rotate a disk in the middle, plus a few smaller holes that appeared color-coded for some sort of chemical reagents. Ash produced his magnifying lenses to get a good look at the circuitry, motioning for me to look too. It was tight work, intricate compared to the engineering we’d learned to keep our fabricator going.
“Can you give us a couple days?” Asher asked. “No charge if we don’t figure it out.”
I raised my eyebrows at that. Our taam liked to follow the rules, and keeping an unlicensed code sequencer in our shop to repair for free was drifting further still from those rules.
She considered, green eyes darting. “Yes, thank you. I’m loath to part with it, but you and your husband seem trustworthy.”
“Husband?” Asher asked at the same time I snorted and said, “Eww, no.”
I laughed at Asher’s flustered expression. “We’re brothers,” I explained to Ashmira.
“Brothers?” She hesitated, burying her head in her hands. “That was an ignorant assumption. I’m so sorry.”
Crossing my arms, I studied her, a warmth radiating in my chest. I’d gotten quite a range of reactions from people who’d met Ash and I for the first time—from incredulity to the statement we looked nothing alike. Most typically, it led into a barrage of curious questions. This was the first time where someone just accepted it at face value.
I respected Ashmira for that, a lot.
So I decided if she was gracious enough not to pry into my business, I would not pry into why she was walking around with a code sequencer.
Chapter 13
The Governor’s House
My mom used to like the phrase, “Why do one thing when you can do two?” This was a maxim I took to heart while training that day, taking on two opponents at once to keep my reflexes fresh.
The late spring air tasted crisp as I pulled each sharp breath. Sweat stung my eyes while I parried Asher’s downward thrust before twisting to meet Ruan’s side-strike. Steel sang to steel, the clang ringing through the clearing. Asher, a hair taller and leaner than me, moved with deceptive grace, his brown and gold eyes glinting in challenge. But I knew his every move: the subtle shift of weight before a feint, the flick of his wrist before a brutal strike.
Ruan, a blue-armored tempest of spite, attacked again from my left, carving past my parries. Her movements were more unpredictable than Asher’s and more aggressive: she’d gotten far more dents and slashes on me throughout the years. I twisted, deflecting the flat of her sword as I ducked, the dagger swooshing by my ear.
The rhythm of the fight settled in, and they knew if they didn’t down me fast, my stamina would outlast them both. They didn’t hold back: parry, thrust, riposte. Asher feigned left, then lunged right, aiming for my ribs. I reacted just fast enough, stepping back and spinning until Ruan met my counterattack. The training swords clanged as I forced her blade upward, driving her off-balance. Asher tried to take advantage of my forward momentum, but I swung down hard to meet him, pushing him and Ruan back. Asher recovered, a grin splitting his face.
