Page 126 of Oathborn
A scream escaped her as she rolled away from his first attack. His second swing of the blade grazed her shoulder, ripping through her clothing. Zari hissed in pain. She kicked one leg out, trying hard to trip him, but it was useless. Her fingers scraped over the earth below her. She scooped up a handful of dirt and as she stood, threw it into his eyes.
With him momentarily distracted, she lunged for the pistol in Javen’s belt. She lifted, pulled the hammer back, and fired. The recoil shuddered up her arm as the bullet made impact.
Her shot was true. The crystal case protecting the sword shattered. She’d guessed right. If a bullet killed a fae with almost magical speed, it stood to reason it might undo the enchanted barrier trapping the Crescent Blade.
“You—” Javen began.
Zari was already wading through the knee-deep water to reach the grotto. Desperately, her hands fumbled through the shards of glass. Something sharp cut into her hand. A faint noise, like a woman sighing, seemed to whisper as she dug through the broken glass.
Blood dripped from her palm, staining the crystal. So much of her body was already in pain, she barely registered the sting of the cuts. Gritting her teeth, Zari closed her fingers around the hilt of the blade. With a flurry of broken pieces of crystal, she pulled the sword free.
She turned to face Javen, squaring her feet and fighting the trembling of her arms. The fractured light of the grotto glinted off the impossibly sharp blade.
He laughed. “You should have shot me instead. You don’t have a drop of magic. That sword will eat you alive.”
Zari struggled to keep her fingers steady as pain bloomed in her palm. The blood made the cold metal slick. “Then let me go.”
“Why should I?” A muscle in his jaw twitched. As he spoke, his grip on his own sword seemed to slip, a small, nearly invisible bit. The tremor raced up his limbs, making his shoulders shudder.
“Because if you kill me, you’ll break the Accords.”
“How little you know. The Accords have no power over me.”
He lunged. Zari had barely enough time to shift the sword into a more defensive angle before their blades met. The jarring impact sent her staggering backward. Her little lessons with Yansin did nothing to prepare her for combat. The closest she’d come before was the stick-fighting she and Annette would play at, chasing each other across the lawn.
This was nothing like that. Javen was ferocious, inhumanly fast. Every slash, every charge, she struggled more to block. Magic burned in his eyes. Small, sizzling blue sparks fell from his hands, leaving trails of smoke behind. One landed on Zari’s wrist and burned her.
When their swords met, it was with enough power that her bones ached from the impact. She refused to stop pushing back, to drop the sword. If she held out long enough, surely help would come.
But who?
Daeden?
Would he stand a chance against Javen?
Did it even matter? For it was clear he was toying with her, a cat with a mouse. He’d kept his cigarette, his calm. Even his breathing remained steady, though hers was ragged. If only she could figure out the Queen’s magic. If only she could—
You? Use magic?A ghostly voice asked, its bell-like voice ringing in her skull.
Zari rolled to dodge another one of Javen’s side-swipes.
The voice spoke again.You wield me. Use me.
Chapter forty-nine
Tobias
Two fae slipped from the tree line, making absolutely no noise, not even bending the grass as they walked. Their dark tunics matched the rapidly growing darkness around them. Their eyes glowed with a predator’s intensity.
In a sudden rush of fear, Tobias realized they were the same two he’d spied on earlier, the tall male and the blue-haired female. Not just fae, but Oathborn warriors. They stared at Tobias. Neither drew a blade, and so Tobias squared his shoulders to look back at them. “Avete,” he said. One of the first words in the book. A greeting.
The fae exchanged looks, and the female whispered something low to her companion before addressing Tobias. “What do you want, human?” Her Rhydonian was heavily accented, a lilting, rich tone. “Get out of our way.”
“No,” Tobias replied, using the fae words, keeping to what he knew. If ever there was a time for his studies to matter, it was this moment. Much like one could not turn and run from a bear, he sensed he should not show fear in front of the fae. “This is Rhydonian land.”
The taller Oathborn spat on the ground at those words. His hand tensed around the sword grip, but he did not draw it. Anger radiated from their expressions. Neither made a move to attack.
As Javen had stated, the Accords remained. No Oathborn could kill a human. Tobias clung to that as he stood in front of them, knowing he wouldbe completely outmatched in a fight. “Leave,” Tobias said, “or let me leave in peace. I do not care which.” He’d had to resort to Rhydonian, but he tried his best to match Javen’s tone, his haughtiness, his smug confidence.
