Page 151 of Daughter of No Worlds

I spun on my heel. Intentionally dragged my left side, only barely. Let my left ankle twist.

And when she saw that, when she lunged — because I knew she would — I was ready.

With one final leap, I cut off her movement with the length of my staff, knocking one of her daggers from her hand, pushing her to the ground—

— Only for her to roll, then spring forward. So fast I could hardly see her. So fast that she was behind me by the time I saw her forearm swing around my neck. She brushed the wound on my shoulder and for one critical split second, a wave of pain so powerful that it blinded me seized my muscles. I fought it.

No dagger. I could still —

And then she flicked her wrist, another blade sliding from beneath her sleeve. Poised at my throat before I could finish disarming her.

“I think that’s your yield,” she said into my ear.

“Ah, I see.”I tried to pass off my breathless panting as an exasperated sigh, with only partial success. “Magic was off limits but hidden blades are fair game. So little has changed, Nura.”

“That was always our problem, Max.” She released me and stepped back. “You always thought I was more honorable than I am.”

I let out a scoff through my teeth, resisting the urge to clutch my shoulder, which still throbbed viciously. “That’s a generous way of framing it.”

Her gaze fell on my wound — covered, but despite my effort, it must have been obvious where it was. “You should have Sammerin look at that.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Put your pride aside. We need you in one piece.”

I picked up my staff, pointing at her with one end. “We? Let’s be clear, I am not here for you.”

“So defensive. So protective.”Thwip— as her knife retracted back up her sleeve. “I know I earned your distrust, but right now, we’re on the same side.”

“Says the woman shoving daggers up her sleeves.”

That was Nura. All those hidden sharp edges, ready to slide between your ribs.

“Insult me all you want,” she said, too casually. “I’m still glad that you came back after all. I love when Zeryth has to admit I’m right.”

There was something about the way she said it that made my knuckles whiten with rage around my staff. I bit down so hard on the words jumping up my throat that my jaw trembled.

We stood there in silence. Then Nura let out a little sigh. “Well. Thanks for the practice. Goodnight, Max.”

But as she turned away, I barked, “Nura.”

She turned and peered over her shoulder, eyebrow raised.

“Why?” I spat. “You were there. Why?”

It was practically a jumble of words, none of them particularly specific or meaningful. But I saw her expression shift, and I knew she understood exactly what I was asking.

She had been there beside me through the whole thing. There was a time when I trusted her more than I trusted anyone — more than I trusted myself. And as much as I hated her, as much as I held her to unforgiving accountability for what happened in Sarlazai, I knew that she had loved my family almost as much as I did.

She was ruthless, focused to the point of callousness and cruelty. But she was not stupid. Perhaps not even selfish, not quite. She wasn’t Zeryth, driven by ego to the point of recklessness.

So… why?

A faint smile. “What?” she said. “You still think better of me?”

“I want to know where you’re hiding the blade.”

“If I tell you that, what’s the point of hiding it?”

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