Page 37 of The Night Prince

Except he wasn’t nothing.He was still here.Still alive.And there would be a future.A future… He just had to get there.

Let go!The voice demanded.

Something cold bloomed in his chest.He put a hand over his heart.For a moment, he remembered–or knew orsomething–that the other novices at the Venomthorn had claimed to feel something similar when they Awakened.When their magic found them.Claimed them.

Except they didn’t feel cold.They felt heat…

The cold spread.Icing him over. And with it, the pain, the fear, the grief numbed and they seemed to disappear altogether.He was ice.He was darkness.He was…ready.To let go?

“You missed one.I am also dead,” Declan whispered, repeating the line Vulre had said earlier.“You forgot that.You killed me already, remember?”

Vulre’s red eyes narrowed in confusion.But then he grinned, a slash of a smile on dark lips.“Yes, and you aredead.How could I forget that?”

“One shouldn’t forget the dead,” Declan found himself saying.“For they have nothing left to lose.”

And, for a moment, Vulre looked surprised whether at his words or tone, it was unclear.

Danger.I bring danger to you?No, I am dangerous to you,Declan thought.

But then Vulre grunted and nodded, gesturing with that sword for Declan to attack him. Declan relished all of this in his deep freeze.

Unlike Vulre, Declan had no armor.He wore a thin piece of silk around his loins and those strappy sandals on his feet. Plus, that sword gave Vulre a lot more reach than his simple daggers.So Declan would have to be quick.Move in and out before Vulre could strike.

The sword the elf wielded was thin and black, nearly three and a half feet long and only an inch wide.Strangely, it didn’t shine like weapons made of metal usually did.In fact, it seemed to draw in the feeble illumination in this place and snuff it out. But it was more deadly than any blade he carried.

Declan’s shoulders shifted as he remembered thesmackof that sword against his bare skin.He knew welts were rising from where he’d been hit. If he looked down at his bare thighs and calves, he would see similar raised and reddened flesh.These wounds would swell even more and eventually burst before crusting over and itching for days.

It could have been worse,his mind whispered.He could have cut me and the drugo poison would have had me vomiting my guts out.

But the pain was nothing.Because he was ice.He was dead…

Declan darted towards Vulre.The wind was like a caress on his frosted skin.The sword struck out like an adder, but he effortlessly twisted out of its way.Sand exploded where he had been as the sword clove the ground in two.Declan dove forwards.He struck the outside of the elf’s right leg with one dagger, slicing through the chitin, and cutting into the flesh beneath.Vulre gave out a sharp, hissed cry of surprise and pain.Declan had drawn blood from Vulre for the first time.

And he was not done.

He turned his body so that he was rolling behind Vulre. The sand rose on either side of him like a tidal wave as he slid. He stabbed at the armor’s weak points behind Vulre’s knees.The first dagger sank into Vulre’s left leg.He twisted it, feeling both the armor and the tipsnap, but Vulre’s shout of pain made it worth the loss of the full blade.The dagger in his other hand went for the right knee, but Vulre reached down and grabbed him by his braid.

Declan did not yell even as the elf yanked him up and around. The broken dagger went flying out of his hand, but he did not let go of the other one.He held on for dear life.Or dear death.

Time seemed to slow.Vulre wrenched him around until Declan was in front of him.He held Declan above the ground by the braid.The pull on his scalp should have been agonizing, but the unearthly chill remained, deadening him to all pain and fear.

Besides Vulre had given him an advantage.

Declan wrapped his legs around the elf’s waist and dragged that bigger body towards his own. Vulre hadn’t expected him to do this so he didn’t resist at first.Another mistake.Two mistakes in one fight.

Two mistakes too many,the voice inside of Declan gloated.

Then he swept down towards the elf’s throat with his dagger, sliding it behind the guard and against his soft skin.

Let go,the voice urged.

Vulre’s red eyes locked onto Declan’s.“Dead… again.”

Declan wanted to say, “Yes, yes, you are.But not again.First time.”

But then he felt the flat of Vulre’s blade slap against his ribs.Vulre could have stabbed him in the heart.He still could.

Kill him,the voice told him.Don’t wait.He will cut you in half.

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