Outside, the lamplight cast its own glow on the pedestrians that wandered the streets of Vyten. The air held a familiar scent from years of living in not just the city, but the northern part of the country; it was the olfactory mingling of pine and cold, of motor oil and garbage. It was Vyten. I smelled it everyday, but familiarity didn’t mean liking. If I could never smell the city again, it would be too soon. Vyten was nothing like the memory I had of my home region. There it had smelled of apple blossoms and wheat, that cold smell had only come in winter, not been present even in every season.

A cold smell for cold people. I thought as I walked with Kylan through the nearly deserted streets, back to Mother’s Way. Kyan didn’t seem to mind the smell of the city. It was almost like he had never considered it. He walked tall and proud, eyes straight ahead focused on something farther ahead. His focus was so different than mine; Kylan saw one thing only and his attention didn’t waiver from it. Focus like his was unthinkable for me, not when I had so many duties. Not when I had so many to spy on.

I cocked my head, a bird-like gesture that translated into my human form, as I took in Kylan’s gaze and his near half smile, so unlike the faces of most people in Vyten who wore a frown and kept their heads down. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. For once, I looked at someone not because it was my job to take in every minuscule detail about his appearance, but because I wanted to.

For the first time since leaving the apartment, Kylan’s gaze shifted. Towards me. His eyebrows jumped up slightly when he found me staring. Had I not been Spy, I would have blushed at his discovery, but as I was Spy--the horrifying third member of the Triad of Hell, the Bringer of Doom, and the Collector of Damning Secrets, trained from a young age to analyze emotions of others whilst hiding my own--and my face stayed its normal tan brown color. Kylan, on the other hand, turned a slight shade of pink at my gaze. I didn’t stop looking at him, that was something too close to conceding .

In the end, Kylan looked away first, his cheeks the same light pink hues the apple blossoms had been in my birthplace during the height of summer. My earlier thoughts had been true: Kylan didn’t belong in Vyten. He was nothing like these worn down, tired people. I found myself hoping that he would stay that way. A foolish wish. No one ever survived in Vyten; sure, they kept on living, but that was merely existence. No one smiled. Or laughed. Or walked tall, glancing over their shoulder at what might be following them.

But, Kylan didn’t need to look over his shoulder for the thing that people feared was following them; all he need do was look to the side. That which stole the smiles and laughter of the people of Vyten was walking right next to Kylan.

Kylan stopped abruptly, causing me to freeze mid-step, foot in the air. Kylan’s broad shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Sorry, I wanted to take the back way in.” He explained with a jaunty jab of his thumb in the direction of the alley he was at the mouth of.

Before turning, I caught the letters of a sign. They read Farre Sweets. My eyes narrowed further in recognition. “You and your family were at the dictator’s gala.” I blurted and quickly hated myself. So many years of training had gone by and I had only made a mistake like that when I was a child,but there was an aura to Kylan that made me feel at ease.

Kylan looked startled, but gave an easy grin that to an untrained individual would have seemed perfectly normal, but I could see the taunt set of his jaw that whispered about the cringe he was hiding, the self-hatred and distaste just below the surface. “Yeah, my family made the cake.” His brows knitted together, the first indication of suspicion I’d seen from him. “How’d you know that.”

My heart raced as I took on a casual lean against the brick wall of the alley. “I played in the string quartet for it.”

Not a lie, but quiet the truth either.

All suspicion disappeared from Kylan’s face and an amicable smile--genuine from the looks of it--spread across his face. “That’s so cool! What do you play?”

“The violin.”

“So, that’s your job.”

I nodded, strands of my thick dark hair falling slightly into my eyes. “Sort of, it’s more of a side gig. I play for the Vyten Opera House.”

Kylan looked enthused, his green eyes wide. The color was shocking, it didn’t belong in Vyten. That color belonged to the province of my birth, the sort of color that would have been jade had it not been so brilliant and bright. I continued talking to my surprise; normally, I wouldn’t just give up information so easily. “My roommates, Lya and Ari, also work for the Opera house. Lya’s a ballerina and Ari is a musician like me.”

“Sweet,” Kylan remarked a smile easily plastered on his face. Rubbing the back of his neck, a pink tint to his cheeks that hadn’t been there before, Kylan said: “Speaking of sweets, would you like to come in for one?”

I couldn’t refuse him and I found I didn’t want to. I followed Kylan down the alley.