Sapphire and I lock eyes in horror.
We know what happened to Aunt Ruth. They do not take punishments lightly, in fact, it’s another added element to their performance. And I’d never forgive myself if Sapphire lost the ability to walk because I refused a challenge.
“We’ll put on a good show for them, okay?” I say low enough for only her ears.
Sapphire gulps. “Okay.”
A Vexamen slayer sword is tossed to me. Double bladed, heavier than the average but light enough that I can still hold it with one hand. The hilt is wrapped in a red leather, so worn it looks scorched.
Sapphire has a curved scimitar sword, crafted to sever tendons with a single swipe. It’s a dancer’s weapon, merciless and swift—the kind of sword that was forged in a desert, fought under many days of drought and burning suns.
I sigh in relief as that sword type has been proven to be light enough for her, especially now as she’s most likely lost a lot of muscle mass from being starved in the asylum.
The stadium sings a battle cry as I assume the fight is supposed to begin.
We side-step around the ring, testing the weight of our weapons and the balance it takes to maneuver them comfortably. There’s a silent agreement that we will make our moves as predictable as possible without alerting the Ringmaster that we’re simply putting on a performance for their liking. No one gets hurt. It will just be a damn good duel.
“I guess they really did find the one inmate in this prison who could keep up with me,” I comment with an inviting grin.
Sapphire makes a face. “More than keep up.”
I move so quickly the first few rows of inmates around the stage go quiet, and normally, I would have caught my opponent completely off guard. This slash of my blade would have created a gaping wound across their collarbone.
But Sapphire is just as fast as she blocks it with such little effort, I can’t help but blink in amazement.
Sapphire
Everything. Fucking. Hurts.
The strain on my weak, feeble muscles from blocking his first blow is enough to make me black out. But thankfully, the nerves from fighting on full display gives me a surge of blood pumping into my muscles and joints that I desperately need to keep up with this man.
I’ve only jousted with a scimitar once, but it was fairly easy to wield. The torchlight catches glimmers along the crescent edge. But Niklaus’s sword is built for far more damage. It’s a predator’s claw against a god’s blade.
As the fight begins, I focus on my footwork because each of his calculated strikes drive me backward. Sparks spit where steel collides. And I meet his advances in quick fragments, darting around him like lightning, redirecting and deflecting.
The sharp tip of his weapon zings through the air with obscene precision. I can see it in his eyes. Each move is measured to miss me by an inch. Even if I stopped fighting back, his strikes would never touch my skin. That mastery that so many have praised him for in our years of training…it’s all being used to ensure I don’t get hurt.
With a speedy glance, I notice the Ringmaster lean forward on his podium, seemingly unimpressed at the lack of gore.
My scimitar slices the air a breath away from his ribs, but my hand falters before I can hurt him. And it all has the audience jeering, spitting, howling for more. For someone to get hurt.
“You’re going to have to rough me up a bit, Spitfire,” he says in a low enough pitch to avoid any other ears.
I dodge the swing of his double blade as it zooms over my head.
Out of breath with sweat dripping down my back, I say, “No.”
“They won’t let us stop unless they see some blood.”
“No,” I cough out, blocking his downward swing and holding his weight above my chest as we meet an inch away from each other.
“I know you’re good enough not to actually hurt me too bad. Okay? I’m a big boy. I can take it.”
I grunt, shaking my head again.
He gives me an annoyed glare. “Wouldn’t you like to nick me just once? Since I’m going to do everything in my power to stop you from changing the future and saving your dad?”
A second wind floods my core, recharging my veins with a lethal rage that blinds me, controls my next movements, and brings tears to my eyes.
