At 12:30, the magical fireworks kept blooming in the air, giving off one crisp sound after another, like crystal striking the ground.
Eve’s gaze followed a meteor that had just fallen from the light curtain, watching it descend slowly, until at a certain moment it burst into golden flame.
From that instant on, a scene that should have lasted only a heartbeat became, in her eyes, a temporary eternity.
Time ceased to flow.
The sky was silent.
Yefei’s raised hand still pointed at the largest firework in the air.
A fiery-red bird flew onto her shoulder.
“You’re back? Did you find Harvin?” Eve asked it.
“No. But in the deepest part of the Boundless Mountains I found some traces of fighting. Farther in than that, I couldn’t go,” Jixian said. “Still, I don’t think anything has happened to him.”
A year ago Jixian had left Klijin to look for Harvin, who had been gone so long.
Now it had finally returned.
“What next, then? What do you mean to do?” Eve asked it.
“I may need to go south and look up a few old friends for help. Oh—this is for you…” It pushed its beak into its own wing, drew out a deep azure gem, and set it in Eve’s hand.
These past few years she had received quite a few bright, glittering things it had brought her.
Seeing Eve put the gem straight into her satchel, it warned her, “This one is different from the ones before. I found it in the snow mountains. Most likely Harvin left it for you. It may be a relic of Ivetrona’s.”
Hearing that, Eve took the gem out again and turned it over and over, but in the end she could make nothing of it.
“What’s it for?” Eve asked it.
“Who knows,” Jixian answered.
Eve let out a breath.
“Keep it on you. One day you may find out what it is,” Jixian added.
“You said you were going to find people for help. When do you leave? Do you want to rest a while first?”
“I’m leaving at once.” Jixian took from its wing a milky-white, half-translucent pebble.
“This one is what I’m giving you. It looks as if we’ll be apart a long time again. Take care.”
Jixian beat its wings and flew far away.
Time began to flow once more.
Eve held that faintly glowing cobble in her hand, and for no clear reason her heart felt a little desolate.
Jixian had spoken to her of Harvin and Ivetrona.
Not at length, but Eve could more or less understand a few things: why Harvin had gone to the Boundless Mountains, who Ivetrona was, and so on.
To this day neither Jixian nor Harvin clearly knew what sort of person Ivetrona had truly been, but that had not stopped the man and the bird from both becoming infatuated with her the first time they met.
They had come to know her on an early journey.
By early years one meant the time when Harvin was in his twenties or thirties.
He had been cooking in the woods then, and the smell of the roast had drawn this beauty over.
At that time Ivetrona wore a robe in tatters, dirt on her body and face, yet even so Harvin was still struck by her beauty and stood dazed for a good while.
The two of them and the bird ate roast meat in the woods, introduced themselves, and then talked on and on.
They talked of themselves, of society, of magic and science, of every contradiction in the world.
Perhaps even they themselves had not noticed that they had only known each other two days.
After that, because their thoughts and standpoints clashed, Ivetrona and Harvin had a somewhat unpleasant falling-out.
She put on one of Harvin’s clean garments and left them.
From then on Harvin would always dream of her late at night.
In the dreams her face grew gradually blurred with the years, yet her voice grew clearer and clearer.
The second meeting was already more than ten years later.
In an ancient city on Tianyi Continent, Harvin saw again this woman who haunted his soul.
For a moment he could not control his feelings.
Like a mad dog, under everyone’s eyes, he tried to throw himself on her and hold her.
Ivetrona turned, slipped aside lightly, and raised a lump on the back of his head with the hilt of her sword.
Mogi had been there as well.
He was young then, barely past twenty, still an unknown junior, not yet the widely known head of a relic-rescue team he later became.
From the first time Harvin met her to the hour of her grievous death, Ivetrona’s looks never changed.
Though she had never truly answered Harvin’s love, anyone could see how she regarded him.
She was mysterious, and full of life.
When she was excited and happy she would even rise on her toes and dance a few steps, yet when work was involved she always frowned, her face grave and earnest.
Harvin did not understand her ideals or her work.
She always did it in silence, neither hiding it nor explaining.
She went to live in cities and in the countryside.
She parsed old magic and studied new magic.
She dissected the corpses of animals and of people.
She also went to relics and ancient cities to survey them.
She was very good at looking after small children, and singing and dancing came easily to her.
As for magic and martial skill, there was no need to say more.
She was the only one who could steadily stand a head above Harvin.
For some ten-odd years Harvin followed her, traveling and living with her through the world as if they were truly husband and wife.
He had thought life could go on that quietly forever, until one day she left without a word, and did not even leave a letter when she went.
For Harvin it was like waking from a dream.
What he had given received no return.
More than ten years ended in emptiness.
He grew dejected and lonely, and then began to search the world for Ivetrona’s whereabouts.
Later he did find some clues about her, but the more he learned, the more he felt his own powerlessness…
Jixian had not told Eve this past in detail, perhaps because it was too sensational, or simply because even it did not understand it well.
In any case, Ivetrona had at last chosen to take her own life under the heavy encirclement of her pursuers, and Harvin had been there at the time.
The next day Eve did not get up until noon, then put on the prince’s outfit again and ate the midday meal in the tea room.
The mood after a great festival was always calm and lazy.
People could always spend an afternoon playing cards and talking, and only go out for a walk after supper.
Yefei and Sheryl had gone with the elders to call on friends, so tonight Eve went out alone.
She wandered the city without a destination.
Compared with yesterday, far fewer people had come out to stroll tonight.
Around 10:00 in the evening, on a street near the inner city, Eve was stopped by two young men who looked like guards.
One of them wore a gray-white shirt with a quench-hardened steel jacket over it and a bowl helmet on his head, dressed like a professional soldier.
The other wore a pull-over coat of mail and a full set of capital-guard clothing.
“Do not carry weapons privately near the inner city, especially long weapons,” the one in guard dress said, standing in front of her.
“Where are you from? I hope you will cooperate with a check and registration.”
“This is only a training sword.” Eve’s heart was a little unsteady.
“Even that won’t do?”
“Tonight is special. Important visitors from various countries are guests in the city, and the Consul and the elders are here as well. We’re only making a register, though. We won’t make things hard for you.”
The guard’s voice was dry.
He set his hand on the weapon at his waist and, faintly, blocked Eve’s way as well.
Eve was somewhat suspicious, but she still nodded and decided to go along first and see.
The farther she walked, though, the more she felt something was wrong.
The two of them went one ahead and one behind: the soldier in front, the guard behind, Eve caught between them.
They did not take her to a sentry post or a city watch station, but led her toward a quiet, empty stretch under the wall.
Once she noticed that, Eve stopped at once.
Her heart was pounding.
She had met people with ill intent before, but never ones in full arms.
She did not know whether the methods she had used on ruffians would still work on the two in front of her.
“Why aren’t you walking?” the guard behind her asked.
“Where are we going? Can you prove you’re guards?” Eve asked, gathering her courage.
“Don’t worry. In this city no one has the nerve to put on armor and pass himself off as a guard.” The guard gave a light laugh, with a thread of disdain in his voice.
Seeing that Eve still would not move, he drew his sword halfway from his waist, letting it make a sound, to frighten her.
Eve had no choice but to step forward, unwilling.
She kept her face toward the front as she walked, yet her eyes flicked now and then to the sides.
Tree shadows swayed.
During the celebration the city was bright with lamps, yet just then the surroundings were very quiet.
There was still a chance.
After they had gone a stretch farther, the soldier in front set foot on a flight of bluestone steps.
Eve used the climb to take a few quick steps and open about two body-lengths between herself and the guard behind.
When she reached the last step she stamped hard on the side of it and jumped slantwise down off the stairs.
Because a sword was slung at the small of her back, she had no thought of tumbling; she only jumped backward.
The bluestone steps had eight tiers, nearly two meters in all, and were built rather steep, yet Eve landed steadily on the open ground below in a not very graceful leap, one hand to the earth.
The guard walking behind had been on his guard the whole time, but Eve’s move still took him a little by surprise.
Almost in the same instant as her motion he ran down toward the foot of the steps, and by the time Eve landed the distance between them was not in fact very great.
Eve had one hand on the ground; the other was hidden behind her, feeling for the hilt of her sword.
Her movement was very light.
Seeing the guard about to rush up to her, she sprang backward again, twisted her body through a full turn in midair, and, using the inertia of the spin, drew the sword from its sheath and swept a circle with both hands on the hilt.
She did not check whether she had hit him.
The moment her feet touched the ground she set the sword across her shoulder and ran as if she were flying.
The guard meant to step in and catch her when she landed, yet stopped in that same instant.
From Eve’s movement he had inferred her intent to attack, and so he caught the motion of her sword.
He tilted his head and slipped the blow.
The edgeless point scraped the mail at the side of his face.
So fast was the stroke, and so strong the force, that it threw off a string of sparks.
The guard stood where he was and watched the girl run far off.
Not only did he not chase her; he even stopped the soldier who wanted to go after her.
“Watch closely.” The guard put out his hand, muttered under his breath, and a thin, piercing violet arc flashed from his fingertip.
Eve, still running, only felt a sudden numbness in her calf, then toppled slantwise to the ground and even rolled over once.
The sword left her hand and slid away across the level bluestone with a clatter.
The soldier, seeing what the guard had done, stood dumbstruck, then hurriedly rushed over to look at Eve.
“I’m sorry… I’m truly so sorry!” The soldier took her by the arm and helped her up, saying earnestly, “I’m Lixin Wegato. Anfa Wegato is my grandfather. Are you hurt?”
Eve frowned, rarely somewhat angry.
She shook off the soldier’s hand and asked him, “So what? What exactly do you want?”
The guard picked up Eve’s sword and gave it back to her, explaining, “Elder Wegato wanted his grandson to exchange a few passes of swordsmanship with you. My name is Binmo. I’m a Wegato as well, Lixin’s uncle.”
The guard bent at the waist and saluted her.
“The situation just now was special. I truly could not think of any other way to keep you. I apologize.”
“Why didn’t you just say so earlier? Why go around such a big circle?”
Eve said, brushing the dust from her clothes.
“Master Dakren just now made a wager with us that we wouldn’t be able to trick you into coming,” said Lixin, the one dressed as a soldier.
“We really did lose.”
“Mogi put you up to this?” Eve was angry and amused at once, and quite dissatisfied, so she put on a fierce tone.
“That old bastard. I’ll settle with him later.”
Hearing her speak like that, Binmo could not hold back a laugh for a moment.
After he laughed he gave a dry cough and put his grave look back on.
“Well? Now you know we aren’t bad people, don’t you?” Binmo said.
“That’s not certain. In the end you were still a fake guard.”
Eve slid the sword back into its sheath.
Once she knew the two of them were not villains, her heart finally settled.
“I didn’t lie about that. I am a guard, just not an ordinary one.”
Binmo patted his hip, deliberately making a clatter of metal.
“You said you wanted to spar. Where?” Eve turned her head and asked Lixin.
Lixin was not old, about seventeen or eighteen, yet his frame had developed well.
His shoulders were broad; he stood a head taller than his uncle Binmo.
For all his strength, though, his nature was somewhat shy.
When Eve spoke to him he was even a little nervous.
Lixin scratched his head, pointed east, and answered, “Just over there. Not far…”
On the other side, behind a merlon on the inner-city wall.
Mogi Dakren and Anfa Wegato were leaning against the wall, talking in low voices.
On the crenel beside them sat an earthen jar and two cups for wine.
Here the wall joined a tower of the inner-city castle.
The narrow walk behind them led toward the castle’s inner court.
Tonight the inner-city castle was still brilliant with lamps.
Through the trefoil lancet windows one could see figures moving in the hall.
Yesterday and today the Logos Institute had been entertaining guests in the third-floor hall.
Anfa Wegato was sixty-seven this year, an elder of the Logos Institute, a regular guest at Boyun Manor, and an acquaintance of Eve’s.
He was a full twenty years older than Mogi.
The top of his head was almost entirely bald; only at the temples was there still some white hair.
When he came to the manor he spent most of his time drinking tea or wine, or discussing Logos Institute affairs with Mogi and Kimilos.
He called people of Comino and Roz’s generation “little ones,” and later, when he came to know Eve, he called Eve a “little one” as well, which made everyone a little awkward, yet no one quite dared say anything.
Last night he had heard his youngest son at the banquet praising the nephew he had taught—that is, Lixin—saying how quickly Lixin’s swordsmanship had improved, how gifted he was.
At that moment Anfa Wegato had thought of Eve without meaning to, and then he had discussed it with Mogi, saying the two children ought to exchange a few passes.
“When I was young I even envied the city-defense soldiers, wearing that imposing white armor, a shield in one hand and a sword in the other—how fine! And now Binmo is in charge of the city defense. Look at how unreliable he is.”
Anfa lifted his cup, laughed, and said to Mogi, “Sometimes it’s like that. A thing outsiders think looks very professional—once you truly understand it you cry out—this full of holes, and it still runs? For example—cheers! To the Logos Institute!”
When he finished, the two of them burst out laughing, touched cups, and drained the wine.
They talked a while longer, then saw three people coming under the wall: Binmo, Lixin, and Eve.
“They lost the wager. You can tell from Eve’s face,” Mogi said.
“What face? You young people have good eyes. I can’t see clearly,” Anfa said.
“No expression at all.” Mogi poured wine for Anfa. “Generally speaking, that’s how she looks when she’s unhappy.”
“See? I told you not to make any wager.”
“It’s all right. In a few days I’ll take her climbing. She’ll forget the whole thing at once.”
The three below came nearer, so the two of them said no more, and quietly watched them walk out onto an open stretch with no tree crowns in the way.
Eve and Lixin each held an edgeless training sword and stood apart.
Both of them had put on protective helmets now, and Lixin had taken off the protective jacket.
Just then the door at the end of the narrow walk behind the wall was opened.
The two of them heard the sound and looked back.
A man in his thirties came hurrying over.
His face was handsome, his nose high and straight, his hair a mass of curling gold.
In Klijin’s way of speaking, he had a standard hero’s countenance.
He was about to speak when he saw Mogi make a gesture for silence, so he shut his mouth.
“Stand over this way.” Mogi waved, signaling him not to stand at the crenel.
“Is something going on here? The Consul told me to call the two of you back…” The man crouched behind the merlons and spoke to Mogi.
“No hurry. What urgent business could he have?” Anfa pointed below the wall, his brows locked in a show of gravity.
“Domenk, you come look as well. The young generation of our country as it is now.”
The man called Domenk stood up and glanced toward the crenel, and only then saw the three people not far below the wall.