Page 118 of Pirate Witch
No one questions it. Shifter challenges are far more regular and less formal than those in the other races, and with this many of us on board, I’m sure most were seeing this as an inevitability.
Cas and Nilsa’s argument with my Ma cuts off, and I scent their shock and astonishment.
“Stop him,” my mother growls. “Your grandmother doesn’t know the meaning of pulling her punches. Casimir—”
She cuts off, but I’m saved from wondering why as Ry approaches me from behind.
“You sure about this?” he asks.
“Yup.”
Cold metal is pressed into my hand. “Then you’ll need a sword.”
I nod my thanks. “Tell the captain to keep us steady.”
I’m used to the rocking of the ship, but Nona isn’t. I want a level playing field between us.
“Three steps forward,” Ry mutters, keeping his voice vampire soft so the others can’t hear, “Val’s laid a rope out to mark the edge.”
I nod. “Not going to wish me luck?”
The vampire snorts. “I don’t wish people luck when they’re off to beat up their granny.”
I snort. “She’s the best warrior in my pack. I’m much more likely to end up on the floor than she is.”
I feel the edge of the rope ring, scent how far Nona is from me, and build a picture of the space in my mind. Val steps past me, and I count his footsteps to the centre of the ring, solidifying my surroundings.
As captain, he’ll start this.
“Last chance to back out?” he grumbles, then waits a few seconds until neither of us have answered him. “Fine. To third blood. No shifting. No leaving the ring. No damaging my fucking ship. Got it?”
I nod, and I assume Nona must too, because Val moves away to linger on the edge.
“Begin!”
I launch forward first, bringing my sword up, only to change direction at the last second as I sense Nona’s intention to dodge. The result is a cold breeze across my back as her sword passes millimetres from my spine.
“How did he do that?” my Ma murmurs as I twist, slamming an elbow into Nona’s spine.
She staggers forwards, but still manages to block the blow I send her way after that.
We trade a few more blows, getting a feel for one another as we circle each other. With each parry, the murmurs from my old pack grow.
Nona has never been one to play with challengers. She’ll cut them down at the earliest opportunity. She’s not the kind of woman who will throw a challenge or play with those she’s obviously stronger than. So the fact she’s taking this fight with me seriously is a statement on its own.
The first point goes to her. A long slice along my thigh from a back angled slash of her sword I didn’t predict. But I quickly even the score with a slice across her side.
When I earn a second point quickly after that, the murmurs grow louder.
“It’s been too long since I had a decent challenge,” she huffs, coming at me again.
“Retirement is obviously making you slow.” I grin, chuckling at her mock-outraged hiss.
The distraction costs me, and a second slice lines up neatly beside the first on my leg.
They’re shallow. Neither of us truly wants to hurt the other.
That’s not the point.
