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