Page 67 of Sharpen Your Claws

“There are no other rules?” asked Henry, while removing his pack and satchel.

“None.”

“So be it.” Henry walked to his side where he offered his belongings to William. He didn’t want to look at his brother, too angered by his stupidity, but Henry knocked his hand and he swiped the pack to clutch against his chest.

Rorbek stood on the opposite end, smiling viciously. The red caps chanted, their voices growing louder and louder. Sweat trickled down William’s neck. His legs threatened to give out. He wanted a smoke. Needed one, more like it, or a drink, the strongest they had available. He reached for his pack, itching for a smoke, feeling utterly useless and an utter fool.

Nicholas laid a hand on the small of his back. He hated that it was of any comfort. Then the gong rang, and he froze, watching in terror. Rorbek launched across the circle. He raised his scythe high. The blade aimed at Henry’s neck. William stepped forward. Nicholas clutched his shirt.

“Don’t break the rules,” Evera warned, just as a flash of lightning erupted from the sky.

The world blazed white, blinding. Rorbek shrieked. The lightning crashed against his scythe. He released the weapon, scrambling back from the jolts rocking through him. Above, the clouds had gone black, and the rain fell harder. Henry held out his hands, the tips electrified, bristling with blue energy.

“Magic!” Rorbek hissed. “Cheating!”

“You didn’t specify no magic,” Henry said, his calm expression illuminated by blue light.

Rorbek shrieked louder, spitting through his teeth. He leapt for his scythe. Lightning struck Henry this time. His veins glowed blue beneath his skin. The blast redirected down his arm to the tip of his fingers. The lightning hit Rorbek square in the chest and sent him hurtling over the crowd, out of the circle. William gawked at Henry, who took a slow breath. The lightning around his fingers dissipated. The rain slowed to a light drizzle, and the storm went quiet.

“How come you didn’t do that against the sirens?” Evera snapped.

“First off, I was hypnotized by their song, and second, it takes a moment to power up, so to speak,” Henry replied, then settled his attention on Rorbek, snarling as he pushed through the crowd. “I believe I have won.”

“You have.” Rorbek spat blood on the ground. His top had been singed, revealing his charred flesh beneath. “Mortal with magic. You shouldn’t have that.”

Henry shrugged. “I am blessed to have it. Now, answer our questions.”

Rorbek was a sore loser based on his grumbling, but obeyed. “Go on, then. Ask.”

“We are in search of troublemakers,” said Evera. “Strange happenings in these lands, something wrong.”

“Wrong,” Rorbek repeated. At his back, the red caps chattered. The one holding the gong leaned in to whisper in his ears. “Wrong, like bad soil?”

“Anything, perhaps even a place you now avoid.”

“Avoid, yes, Bloodbane, your home, the soil weeps.” Rorbek stuck out his tongue in disgust. “It’s foul with decay, rancid in smell and taste. We will not go near it.”

“We should have figured as much.” Nicholas threw his arms skyward in an angry gesture. “If anyone were to start trouble, it would be your mother. What is she hiding?”

Evera met Nicholas’ anger with her own. “Do you know everything your father is up to?”

Rorbek sucked on his teeth. “Are we done? We have fae to cook.”

“Oh yes, we are finished.” Nicholas would have snickered if Evera didn’t elbow him, so he grunted instead. “Enjoy your meal.”

Nicholas gathered Charmaine on his back and walked away. William followed, refusing to look back at Henry even when Henry retrieved his belongings. The brothers walked in silence, Henry snorting when the red caps shrieked. They learned Arden escaped, cursing him and scuttling about in search of their prize. It wasn’t until some time later that Arden waltzed up to their group as if earlier hadn’t transpired. He tucked his wild hair behind his ears and sauntered beside Nicholas. Already in a foul mood, William mentally cursed the bastard. They didn’t need to be that close.

“What is this talk of trouble, then?” Arden asked.

“That is no concern of yours,” Evera replied. “Our group is large enough.”

“The more the merrier I say, and if it’s true that a fae lord may be involved, I imagine we need all the help we can get,” Henry chimed in.

He resisted the urge to look at him. He felt childish, considering he hated how their father had done the same.

Evera reached in front of Nicholas to shove Arden aside. “This one got himself caught by red caps. He is no help.”

Arden pressed an offended hand to his chest. “Caught? Don’t be ridiculous! I was bored and let them have their fun, but this trouble of yours sounds far more entertaining.”

---