“Surrender, Your Highness. You cannot hope to defeat me,” Farrin said. He took a step towards her but was forced to twist and raise his sword in a block.
Foedus, Phile’s ugly dagger, skipped over the edge of the sword, slicing his cheek. Phile took his moment of distraction and pounced, attacking his open back with a shortsword. Farrin must have heard her, for he spun faster than Rakel could blink and parried her thrust. “Stop letting him intimidate you, Little Wolf. You’re better than this!” Phile shouted.
Farrin knocked the shortsword out of Phile’s hands, but it left him wide open with his sword fully extended, so Phile tried to kick him in the stomach. He caught her foot and flipped her feet over her head.
“Farrin Graydim, is it? More like dim-witted,” Phile said when she righted herself.
Farrin raised an eyebrow. “You insult those you fight?”
“Don’t look so offended. It worked on your cavalry leader.” She must have recovered Foedus, for she threw it again and, like the last time, it skipped over Farrin’s sword, this time slicing a lock of his hair off. “Tsk, you should have been paying attention. Now your hair is uneven—which is a real tragedy, because you are a looker.”
Farrin thrust his sword at her, but Phile somersaulted and avoided it. “Oohh, that made you mad,” she cackled.
“Princess.” Oskar placed a hand on her shoulder.
Rakel flinched. “I’m sorry?—”
“It’s not your fault,” Oskar smiled warmly. “But we can’t give up. Keep him occupied and distracted—and stop any other mages if you can.”
Just past them, Phile continued to fight Farrin and crowed, “Careful Farrin Dim-wit! If you let Foedus hit you, it might transfer some of its ugliness to you.”
“Can you do this, Princess?” Oskar asked.
Rakel weakly nodded. She was lying. She couldn’t fight him, not long, anyway. Farrin could kill her at any moment he chose.
“Good girl.” Oskar pulled back just in time to avoid Farrin when he tapped his magic and left Phile in his dust.
Farrin thrust his sword between Rakel and Oskar and swung it at the attendant, aiming for his side.
“Behold, the awesome power of ugliness!” Phile flung Foedus again as the wind howled and rain fell in torrents.
Farrin dodged the dagger, giving Oskar time to escape. “Such a violent youngster. Thank you, Phile!” Oskar winked at the Robber Maiden and slipped back into the thick of the battle.
“My pleasure. Good luck, Little Wolf!” Phile said. She rolled, grabbed Foedus, and popped to her feet. She flung herself at a cavalry soldier, knocking him off his horse and claiming the animal for herself.
Farrin watched Phile flee with narrowed eyes and the slightest hint of a scowl tugging at his lips. His expression cleared when he took a step towards Rakel. She flung her hands up, and ice shot out of the ground under his feet. It moved so slowly, it did little besides upset his balance, and Farrin hopped off the six-foot pedestal of ice with ease. Rakel then broke it at the base and tipped it in his direction.
Farrin caught it with his sword and threw it backwards, but it hit no one. He sprinted to Rakel with his speed magic, and Rakel flung up an ice wall, protecting herself. She looked up when rain pelted her face and frowned. “I need to take care of?—”
Her ice wall cracked and then shattered, cleaved by Farrin’s sword. She grimaced and leaped backwards. Farrin leveled his sword at her and opened his mouth to speak—when a cage of ice swallowed him up. It neither touched nor attacked him, so he couldn’t reflect it back. Rakel had made the ice bars of the cage thicker than her wall, so when he struck it with his sword, it did not immediately shatter.
“Superior thinking,” Phile shouted as she rode past on her stolen horse. “You can beat him yet!”
Soldiers yelled, drawing Rakel’s gaze. A small girl, built like a fawn—who couldn’t have been much older than fourteen—hammered her fists into the center support column of the ice shelter that protected Verglas troops from Chosen archers. The column collapsed, and the ice roof groaned and threatened to cave in. Rakel extended a hand, and another tree-like column shot out of the ground, cradling the roof.
Rakel felt a draft at her back and heard the tinkling of ice shattering. She whirled around, throwing a massive spike of ice up as a knee-jerk reaction. Farrin battered it away, and it skid straight for a squad of Verglas archers.
“No!” Rakel shouted, raising a wall of ice to protect them. She yelped when Farrin kicked her in the side, tossing her to the ground.
She glared up at the rainy sky and angrily fed the rainstorm her magic, turning it into a blizzard. Lightning sizzled in the unusual weather conditions, and Rakel scrambled to her feet, barely avoiding Farrin’s stab at her thigh.
She fed the ice shelter more power—popping another column out of the ground—and threw a cloud of loose, dry snow at Farrin.He can’t do much damage with that.
His sword sliced straight through the cloud, and it fell before reaching him. Rakel threw up another cage around Farrin, but this time he was prepared for it and shattered a hole for himself when it reached his knees.
“Isn’t it strange that no one is coming to help you?” Farrin asked as Rakel backed away from him. He traced the edge of his scar—the white one that crossed his cheekbones and bridged his nose—with a gloved finger.
“What do you mean?” Rakel asked warily.
