Page 37 of Demonic Cage
When we land, Darya’s wings disappear into the air in a puff of black smoke, just like the angels’ wings had. We’ve arrived on the flat top of the mountain. Cliffs descend on all sides, except for one part where, if I’m seeing this correctly, and I sincerely hope I’m not, the mountain plunges into a chasm. It’s like they bulldozed the area, creating an outdoor training area. Weapons are embedded in the rocks, and various knives reflect the sparkling sunlight onto the stone tables in front of them. Targets abound in the distance.
“Choose a weapon,” Darya says.
My eyes widen.
“Choose a weapon?”
“You heard correctly.”
Sighing, I step closer to the table.
There iseverythingon it. Leather-clad bows, knives, long, narrow swords, sturdy spears, a couple of nasty maces, and I don’t even know the names of the rest. Something like a woodcutter’s axe protrudes from the smooth table, but I dismiss it entirely. I wouldn’t even be able to lift it. The sword seems like a good idea – I’ve always wanted to learn fencing. I had a few attempts, but it hurt too much when they swung it at me during the first few hours. After the third lesson, I didn’t go anymore. And the bow? I could be like Katniss Everdeen inThe Hunger Games. It suits me and would mean I can shoot everyone from a distance. But only if I’m able to string it.
Before I grab the bow, my eyes spot a dagger. A simple brown handle holds the azure blade. Although I could keep an opponent at a distance with the bow, demons move through the walls. I need something light; something close to the body.
I pick up the dagger. No more declaring madness. No more psychiatry.
“I choose this.”
I turn to Darya, surprising even myself with how determined I am.
The lips of the Kraldem curl into a wolfish grin.
“Excellent.” He nods. “Let’s get to it.”
He points to one of the targets.
“Hit it.”
I glance at him with big eyes.
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
I have no idea what to do. I look at Darya, who patiently leans against the stone table, arms crossed. His sinewy shoulders tense under the leather vest that reaches to his elbows. A smile lurks at the corner of his lips, and his eyes flicker over me several times. Maybe I’m mistaken, but his gaze lingers for a moment at my hips. My skin tingles and a blush rises on my face.
I turn away and take a deep breath. Clutching the knife, I throw it.
The blade hits the ground between me and the target.
Raising my eyebrows, I pat my thigh and, biting my lower lip, look at the Kraldem. He can barely contain his laughter.
“You really have never handled a weapon before?”
“I’m a child of the twenty-first century. We don’t solve our conflicts like this, and we don’t have to fight demons. You and I both know that if I really have to fight someone, I’m going to wind up dead.”
“Don’t write yourself off so quickly,” he says, tilting his head towards the dagger. “Pick it up!”
I do as I’m told, and the Demon King appears next to me. Carefully, he angles me towards the target, gently pulling me into him. I meld into his hard chest. My heart makes its way through my throat, and it takes me all my strength not to simply collapse into his arms.
The demon’s long finger rests on mine, pressing it on the knife. With his other hand, he gently strokes my forearm, then holds my elbow delicately, as if I were a porcelain doll, ready to shatter at the slightest twitch.
“Let’s start with something simple,” he says behind my ear, causing shivers to run down my spine. I close my thighs together. “A straight throw. The index finger guides. You run it along the blade before you release it. It’s important to point where you aim. The movement should be continuous.”
I want to concentrate, but his cool lips touch the soft part behind my ear.
“I’ll show you.” He releases me, and I can breathe again. Gracefully, he grabs the blade and throws it firmly. The dagger arrives at the center of the target quickly, deadly, precisely.
