“He’s got this,” she breathes.
“I don’t think he ever beat her with two arms…”
“Because he never tried,” Piominko answers.
Tane flinches, but spins out of her reach. I bite my lip, reigning in the scold I want to give her. This feels absolutely unnecessary.
Like kicking a man while he’s down.
Tane lunges at her, his blade gleaming. Mathilda blocks the first swipe, but the second one comes too quickly and grazes her arm. Even in the fading light, the blood blooms a bright red. My heart stutters in my chest.I don’t like this at all.Mina grabs my hand.
“She’s okay,” she whispers. “Look.”
Sure enough, Mathilda throws a lazy grin at him.
But his face blanches in horror at the blood dripping down her arm and he takes an unguarded step towards her, apologies written all over his face.
She wipes the trickle of blood off of her arm, the cut already healed. “You couldn’t even manage that with both arms.”
Tane loses it.
He slings his sword. The pommel vibrates as the blade sticks in the ground. My palms sweat as I unclench them. Blood pulses into my fingertips.
This is it. He’s going to walk away.
But that’s not what happens…
He chants.
His voice booms across the grounds. He widens his stance and sinks into a partial squat as he beats his fist against his chest.
The words he’s saying grow louder and louder, more rhythmic.
“The haka,” Mina whispers. “Finally.”
Tears run down my cheeks, my exposed skin erupting into goosebumps.
A call to challenge, a show of strength and pride.
Tane’s chant builds and builds, the rhythmic stomping, and the beating of his fist rising to a crescendo.
With the last word, he juts his tongue out. The last syllable still reverberates around us.
The world pauses.
Tane rips his sword from the ground and swings with incredible force.
There is absolutely no way to block it.
Mathilda throws herself backward out of its trajectory.
But at the last second, Tane freezes. His blade held in midair right above where her body was only a split second ago.
I hold my breath, squeezing my eyes shut.
Cheers erupt and I blink my eyes open in time to see Mathilda sliding on her back—outside of the ring.
Mathilda’s sword slips from her fingers as she stands. In two bounding steps, she’s in front of him, her arms thrown around him as they embrace. Tears stream down both of their faces. Mathilda’s head tips back and Tane’s lips crash against hers.
