Page 139 of Trial of Thorns
She nods quickly, her teeth chattering. “He saved me,” she mumbles. “He saved me.”
I kiss her cheek and guide her to edge. She crouches and then hops with a slight squeal, I send a quick black of magic to cushion her fall.
The courts won’t be happy I brought her here or disguised her as a bird, but they also won’t hurt her. It’ll be me who’s punished.
The moment Raven is clear of the platform I turn toward the battle. Brielle is on her hands and knees, the black magic still clinging to her eyes. I don’t know where her mind is, but I don’t care. She’s blind, and she’ll stay that way for a very long time.
Maybe forever.
I rush to retrieve my twin swords before approaching my final opponents. Drake conjures a gust of wind so strong it knocks Rev off his feet. Why isn’t he using magic?
He saved me.I swear, realization hitting me. He drained his magic saving Raven. One more way I’ll owe him.
He leaps up and begins their dance anew.
I find my second sword and grip it tightly, all the while watching as the males twist and swing. Block and shift. The clang of metal against metal and the patter of shifting feet like a beat to which I could create a symphony.
I make haste to join the fray, but Drake sees me coming, and before I reach them, the beat changes. Drake’s wind rushes into Rev’s feet, knocking him off balance. Rev nearly misses blocking Drake’s flying blade. The clang reverberates through the arena, sharp blade inches from his nose.
“Rev!” I shout. Drake double downs and his hilt slams into Rev’s temple.
I swear. Rev crumples on the edge of the platform, inches from falling into the trenches below.
Before Drake can serve the killing blow, I leap between them, creating a new rhythm. Quicker. Sharper.
I take the aggressive stance and maneuver him away from Rev.
“Brielle!” Drake calls between swings. “Brielle.”
“She’s not coming,” I snap.
“Worthless,” he spits, glancing at the still heaving Brielle clawing at the black ink covering her face. With renewed vigor—or perhaps desperation—Drake leaps at me, his wind twisting and pulling at me, but his magic is weak. He used too much of it defending himself against my attack on Brielle.
I smile. I can beat him, even with little magic left.
His strength was in manipulation. He can fight, but it’s not his strength, and he’s already tiring. We cross the arena, my twin blades flying, striking swift and true. Drake’s face is red with fury.
A tingle of magic swirls in my chest. It’s small, just an inkling of what I had minutes ago. But he thinks I’m drained entirely. Another wind gust blasts me from behind, but I watch his eyes and duck just before he swings at my head.
“Dammit!” he screams.
Our dance approaches Brielle, sobbing into the stone as she scoots from the skirmish, only stopping when she reaches the edge. She has nowhere else to go, but she’s too petrified to fight.
I leap back, close to the edge, readying my moment. Brielle is just at his back.
“Out of the way!” he yells at Brielle, turning away from me. He shoves his boot into her side, and she topples over the edge with a pathetic scream.
“She wasn’t even a threat,” I yell. She’s my enemy, and I still wouldn’t have treated her that way unnecessarily.
“But she still had to go over.”
I shake my head. What a damned fool.
I leap at him, flying back into the pattern of our fight. I step and move, let him think he has control. Let him think I have nothing left to give.
His blade slices into my thigh just before I move away. I cry out but keep fighting. The wound is shallow but the sight of bright red blood seems to fuel him. Anger fills me again, and I throw it into my swings. He smiles, his eyes lighting.
He thinks he’s won.
