Page Mallory

It was the flash of golden hair and the song of a wooden sword cutting through the air that caught Asia’s attention. She was wandering along the boardwalk, idly browsing the bright wares at the stalls and considering buying a stick of Brighton Rock for a pre-mission sugar rush when she saw him.

He was no more than eight, but then Arcturus had been the same age when he’d first met Emrys and his nameless, faceless Prentiss. He stood on the sand, swinging the sword with more enthusiasm and skill, and Asia recognized the determination in his expression.

She paused, leaned on the railing, and watched him battle an invisible foe. Over the years she had seen many faces repeated, knew that it was the way of DNA and biology, but she’d never hoped to see his face again. Asia closed her eyes and remembered her king as she’d seen him last, face peaceful in magic-woven sleep.

“Take that!” the boy cried, lunging and jabbing with the sword.

Asia opened her eyes and saw him trip over his own shoelaces, land in the sand.

“Ow,” he muttered, and heaved himself up, dusted himself off.

“If you slide your back foot forward and push off with it a little bit before you lunge, you won’t over-extend yourself and lose your balance,” Asia said.

The boy tilted his head to look at her. “You know how to fight with a sword?”

She nodded. “I do.”

The boy clambered to his feet, picked up his sword. “Will you teach me?”

Asia glanced at her watch. She still had forty minutes until she had to meet her contact. “I don’t have much time, but why not?” She hopped over the railing and landed in the sand, neatly like a cat.

The boy’s eyes went wide. “Wow. Are you a ninja or something?”

“Or something,” Asia said. “What’s your name?”

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” the boy began.

“Yes, well, considering what I can do with a sword, if I’d wanted to hurt you, you’d already be hurt,” Asia said. She winced when she realized just how aggressive that sounded.

“That’s not true,” the boy said. “You might have been paid to kidnap me and bring me undamaged.” He brandished his sword at her.

Asia knew enough about children that she didn’t laugh. She kept her expression solemn. “Yes, well, you have my word I’m not going to kidnap you.”

The boy gazed at her for a moment, and Asia reflected that children had an uncanny ability to sense deception that at times rivaled Gabriel’s gift. “My name is James,” he said finally. “James Mallory.”

“Well, Page Mallory, let’s see your sword,” Asia said.

He handed it to her.

“Why am I Page Mallory? Shouldn’t I be Sir Mallory?”

“Before a man becomes a knight, he must first serve as a page, then as a squire,” Asia said easily. “Now come on - this is how you hold a sword.”

(499 words)