He spun a dagger in his fingers and beamed at the gate to the field. I turned and choked on the gulp of water, spilling it down my chin. Skadi with Dorsan at her back filled the space. Tight silver braids fell from aknot on the top of her head, revealing the soft edges of her face, the string of piercings in her pointed ears.
Free of her elaborate gowns, her curves were defined by a black tunic, vambraces on her slender arms, and a thick belt with a bronze elven blade.
She was indescribable.
Her bright eyes found me. I watched her shoulders rise in a deep breath, then fall again upon her first step onto the field. Dorsan looked about with a hand on his blade like we might pounce.
Two paces away, I reeled through what I might say. Last night seemed to crack something inside me. She likely didn’t recall, but there would be no going back to where I’d been with her. Not after her admission that she wanted me too.
I parted my lips to stammer out anything but was knocked in the shoulder.
Sander shoved past me. “You’re here to spar? Finally. I summon a rematch.”
Skadi’s eyes were wide, hesitant, her hackles visibly raised.
“Sander.” I tugged on his shoulder, drawing him back. “Stop pushing her to adore you.”
He shirked me off and took out his own sword. “What do you say, sister?”
The slightest hint of a smirk teased her full lips. She withdrew her own blade. “Will your ego recover if you lose a second time?”
Jeers and laughter rose, some taunted Sander, others demanded Skadi humble the prince with less near-death this time. Her cheeks were flushed with a bit of mortification, no doubt, but she squared against Sander.
“What are the rules?” She took a step to one side; Sander took a step in the opposite direction. “Blades alone? Or affinities?”
My brother blackened his eyes. “Oh, I want you to show them what you can do. Make them ease up on me. I even wager, not one soul on this field could defeat you. Hear that, you sods?” Sander spun around, glaring at everyone. “You’ll see how I was brought down.”
“Remember though.” I sat on the edge of the water table. “I was not, brother.”
Sander jabbed his practice sword my way, glaring.
“Hardly a comparable moment.” Skadi said over her shoulder. “I was exhausted.”
I scoffed. “And you think I was energized?”
“Much more than me.”
“Hmm. When you finish with my brother, perhaps we’ll see about that, Fire.”
Skadi returned a smug look, then rolled her blade in her hand. “Ready?”
“Truthfully?” Sander shook his head. “No.”
He lunged.
Skadi blocked Sander’s strike aimed at her leg and kicked at his thigh. He rolled over his shoulder and swung at her spine. The bronze of her dulled blade blocked. She parried. He cut at her ribs.
The more she fought the more her eyes brightened like a dying star. She dodged, struck, jabbed. The woman was a damn sight and I could not look away.
Kryv and townsfolk paused to watch, some even passing over copper penge coin, placing barters on who’d walk away victorious.
Sander’s black steel collided with Skadi’s bronze between their faces.
He darkened his eyes again and said with a snarl, “Show them.”
Her arms shuddered under the pressure of his hold, a look of uncertainty on her features.
After a drawn pause, Skadi swiftly shifted one of her hands. With the slightest touch across the guard of Sander’s sword, the blade was swallowed in a wave of dark mists. With the blade faded from his grip, Sander stumbled forward.
