Freed hands both rising for the pommel now, so natural, so smooth, it was like Kiriath machinery, as if he machinery, a cunningly crafted clockwork Kiriath mannequin, built to complement the steel. He felt the accustomed kiss of the grip on his palms, felt the grin on his face turn into a snarl. Cold chime as the scabbard gave up its embrace. And the Ravensfriend came out.