Page 166 of Starside

He’s right in front of me now. I tip my head up, and in the dark, with that hood, I still can’t catch a glimpse of his face. “Is that all? I’m disappointed.”

“Duel with me,” he says, not missing a beat.

I blink. “What?” I say, shocked and breathless.

His head lowers. “Your words are weak. Your blade isn’t. If you’re going to fight with me, then fight with me.”

It sounds as much like a threat as an invitation.

I swallow at his proximity. He’s right there. Blocking everything. He’s so close, I can smell him, and—he smells like his soap. Like he used it instead of the ones here. I breathe it in, fighting back a groan, burying the shameful memories of my lips against his throat. “My—my blade is with the blacksmith.”

He shrugs a shoulder. “Then get it.”

I don’t even know where the blacksmith is, but I make to step around his body, mostly just to get away from him and the confusing thoughts that bloom in his presence, but he takes a step and cages me in.

“You said—”

He tilts his head at me in a clear challenge. That’s when I remember the times he called to his blade—how it spiraled into his grip.

“I can’t do that.”

“Try.”

I think back to before, when I almost lost it and attempted the exact same thing. “I have tried.”

His voice is unimpressed. “So that’s it? You try something once and are done with it?”

No. Asshole.

He takes a step back, as if he has all the time in the world to stand and watch me fail at this.

I don’t want to fail. I want to wipe what is a no doubt smug expression off his coil-of-snakes face.

“Fine.”

I dig my feet into the ground as if I’m about to fight. I take a breath. I clear my head. I remember watching Raker do this, over and over.

I extend my arm to the side with every ounce of force—

Nothing.

“Call to it,” he says. His voice is right above me. “Like you’re calling out a name.”

“My sword doesn’t have a name,” I say through my teeth.

“Every sword has a name.”

I frown. Was I supposed to name it? Suddenly, I can’t think of a single word to save my life. I don’t know—

Breathe. Sometimes, I just need to remind myself to take a full breath. I do, and then I imagine vines digging through my feet, rooting me in place, keeping me in this moment. I imagine a wave washing through my head, clearing it of any worry or pain.

Then, I think of my sword. Of its patterns. Of the moment I first gripped its hilt, and the sound of silver shattering against it. I imagine it in my mind’s eye, and then, out of the darkness, out of the quiet—

A voiceless command. A word, written into my mind, with a different sense. I can’t see it or hear it—I just know it.

Stellaris.

I don’t know if that was always its name. Or if its name merged with mine, though the pronunciation is different, sounding like the words are and is combined. Or if I—subconsciously—named it as a tribute to me and Stellan.