Page 77 of Crown of the Dunes

He reached for his axe, unhooking it from his belt. “To first blood?” he asked.

I bared my teeth, swallowing down the retort that duels in the Ballan Desert were to the death. He had already coaxed me to violence for his own gain—I would not kill him and give Doran an excuse to invade Kelvadan to take what they would by force.

I just nodded, pulling my own saber from my belt. The metallic ring of it pulling free from its scabbard silenced the whispers of discontent running through the hall as everyone backed toward the walls, giving the two of us space.

My boots scraped harshly against the stone as I began to circle Warrick—nothing like the soft give of sand underfoot. Warrick held his axe before him with two hands, keeping it between us as I assessed his stance for openings.

A tiny shift of his grip was the only warning I had before he lunged. The axe whistled through the air, flying toward my left side. I twisted, lifting my elbows and throwing my blade between myself and the attack in a hanging parry.

The impact of the blow traveled up my arms and echoed in my head hard enough to make my ears ring. A shot of lightning ran through my elbows and wrists. Before I could recover, he let my block reverse the momentum of his swing, circling the axe over his head before aiming for my unprotected side.

My muscles moved of their own accord, spinning me out of the way. The wind from his strike ruffled my hair as I danced back. As we returned to circling each other, I surreptitiously flexed my fingers on the handle of my sword, trying to restore feeling to my grip.

Warrick’s axe was far heavier than a saber—even Erix’s oversized weapon. I would only be able to block a few strikes from it before my arms gave out or my weapon shattered.

I didn’t wait for Warrick to swing again, instead closing the distance quickly before he could wind up for another brutal strike. He raised his axe as if to catch my blow on the handle, but I reversed directions at the last second. My saber cut toward his legs, close enough to snag on his pants and rip them at the knees.

But there was no blood.

Before I could retreat, Warrick slammed the handle of his weapon forward, catching me directly in the face. I stumbled back as stars burst behind my eyelids, and I nearly lost my grip on my sword.

As pain exploded in my head, something savage pulsed in my gut, as if awoken by the sensation. Warmth flooded my veins, and I blinked past the watering in my eyes.

I didn’t bother to wait for my vision to clear before I threw myself at Warrick. My muscles took over, driving me forward with a speed I hadn’t known I possessed. My blade sang to the rhythm of the pulsing rush of blood in my ears.

Warrick blocked my flurry of blows, each more narrowly than the last. He backed away as I advanced, driving him from the throne and toward the door of the hall. Under my onslaught, he faltered. I darted forward, aiming my blade at his unguarded shoulder.

My foot caught on the uneven floor—never a problem in the flawlessly hewn stone of Kelvadan, now ruined by the crack running the length of the palace. My stomach lurched under me, like I had taken a bad step on the sands and started sliding down the steep side of a dune.

I threw my free arm out to catch my balance, and Warrick grasped at my split second of hesitation. The blade of his axe whistled through the air. I flung my saber up between us, and the clash of metal echoed through the stone room as our weapons met.

Yanking on my saber, I tried to pull free to attack again, but Warrick twisted his axe, the blade catching on my quillon and locking our weapons together. He bore his weight down on me. My knees trembled, and the muscles in my shoulders screamed as I fought against the bulk of his body pushing against me.

A pulse of adrenaline shot through me, filling me with unbridled enmity.

The Ballan Desert was my home, and he would not defeat me before my own throne. I redirected the newfound energy in muscles, twisting away and spinning out of the bind. Warrick tried to take advantage of the dangerous maneuver, slashing out in the split second my back was to him—but I was faster. The wind of my motion whipped my hair as I flung my sword out. He lifted the handle of his axe to catch the blow, but the curve of my saber arced around it, the back edge slashing across his cheek.

His eyes widened in shock as blood bubbled up before trailing over his face to drip down his jaw. He froze, and for a split second, the only thought in my mind was victory—how this was a duel of honor, and such competitions among the clans could only end one way.

A droplet of blood fell from his chin to stain the floor and the moment was shattered. We were not among the clans, where peace was only bought with death.

Warrick raised his hands in defeat. “Doran acknowledges you as the Queen of Kelvadan.”

The words were the ones he had promised if he should be defeated, but they rang hollowly in the hall which was unnaturally quiet after the clash of weapons.

I nodded my head in acknowledgement and lowered my weapon, but the glint in Warrick’s eyes told me this defeat was not the end of his defiance. Instead, I looked past him toward the assembled riders, and warmth bloomed in my chest as they all tapped their knuckles to their temples in acknowledgement of my victory.

I raised my own hand and saluted them back, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw the archons exchange worried glances. A bittersweet ache undercut the warmth of the riders’ approval. This fight had been won, but with threats both known and unknown around every corner, this would not be the last blood spilled in this city.

Chapter twenty

Erix

Keera murmured in her sleep, and I loosened my hold around her waist, relaxing my fingers that had twisted the tunic over her belly into a tight fist. The moon was full tonight, and beams of light drifted ethereally through the gauzy gold curtains around the bed, which swayed gently in the evening breeze. My knuckles were still bruised and cracked, but I didn’t seem to be able to keep myself from clutching Keera to me so tightly that they throbbed. I needed to peel myself away from her, but my traitorous body refused.

Just as my madness worsened by the day, so did my weakness. Since arriving in Kelvadan, the voices bouncing around in my head had taken on an insistent tone, driving me to distraction as I tried to pick out words in the nonsensical chattering—as I tried to figure out what it was they wanted from me.

But I already knew what they desired. The desert wanted her Heart restored, and her magic insisted in every way possible that I see it done.