I gulp. I don’t know if I can do this. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Just to first blood, nothing like the Underground.”
I sigh in what I hope conveys annoyance, and then generate my own white sword. “Swords only.” Gods know I didn’t want to chunk daggers at her or swing an ax.
“Fine,swordsonly.” Red smoke blooms into a second sword in her right hand.
Blood.
She lunges forward and cuts, aiming for my upper arm. I only scarcely make the parry, and use the close distance to swipe at her outstretched arm. She blocks with her other sword and pushes back at the same time. Fighting lefties is the worst. Adraa swipes again with a lunge to the right. At least I think she’s a lefty.
I had watched her fight the Vencrin sailors out of the corner of my eye, but fighting her myself is different. She moves like fire, lashing, fluid, consuming. Together we weave and twist around one another. Jab. Parry. Twist. Slide. Duck. More ducking than I have ever done in any fight.
The guards on the sidelines are having fun, though, at my expense, of course. They holler cheerfully as I twist away from Adraa’s sword, try to lock out the other one, and narrowly escape with an unscathed arm. I breathe heavily. Blood, she moves fast. In fact, we have skated around so much that a cloud of dust skims around our legs and nestles in itchy bundles in my throat. I cough.
Adraa makes another slice at my chest.
I retreat to regain distance. “You sure you aren’t trying to killme?”
“Never.” She smirks. “In front of all these witnesses.”
“Reassuring.”
Pivot. Shift. Cut. Parry. Riposte. Parry. Adraa and I are too agile for this kind of fight. We both aim for the easy and nonlethal targets to draw blood. But she’s too fast. I have to break this pattern we’ve created. With a quick flip of my hand I lower my blade and stab for her stomach instead of slashing. She jumps back and tries to sweep her blade in defense. Our swords skate up one another, white on red blending into pink, and our guards lock. Adraa whips her other blade forward, slashing at my face. I counter and angle the red sword away, another lock. For a moment, we are like statues, fastened together like ice. The crowd jeers.
“Want to call it even?” I ask, her face mere centimeters from mine.
“No,” she huffs. She jerks back and I wrench my wrist at an angle, unlocking our guards and slicing into her calf. Adraa grimaces and her leg buckles. A roar erupts from the sidelines.
I pull away and drop both swords. They vanish in a puff of white smoke before touching the dirt. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Adraa relents. She clutches her calf, stands, and shows the crowd of guards the blood on her hand. “To appease the bloodthirsty masses,” she explains with an eye roll.
They cheer at my small victory. Adraa nods toward them. “I guess most bet on you.”
I turn to see a few men and women exchanging coins. “Can’t believe anyone betted against me.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not like you are their raja.”
“Yeah, of course. That would be embarrassing….”
Adraa sits down on the ground and begins to heal the cut on her leg.
I squat beside her, trying to forget the biting irony in her words. “You know what this means?”
Adraa continues to cast, ignoring me, then looks up. “That for someone who once told me guardsmen try to fight honorably, you don’t.”
“No.” I pause. Was my move shrewd? Ididwarn her somewhat. I shake the thought from my head. “Four.” I smile and gesture to myself, then to her. “Two.”
“No, four, three.” She twists her leg so I can see the smooth brown skin through the rip in her orange flying pants. There is no hint of even a scratch. “I haven’t forgotten about your limitations.”
I hold out a hand to help her up. “Yeah, and what are yours?”
“You’re going to have to find—” Adraa stops, staring at our audience. I turn to see what, or whom, she’s looking at. For a heartbeat I picture Kalyan in the crowd, but he’s obeyed my request.
“What is it?”
“I just realized something.”
