After Griff teleported us back,we shared an excited grin, and without exchanging words, went straight to the training yard. It was relatively empty this time of evening.
My hand dropped to the sword, unsheathing it. Her, I amended, as she didn’t feel like anitin my hand. She had a presence, like if I listened hard enough, and long enough, she would speak to me. As the blade caught the fading light, she flashed an unearthly luminescence.
“We’re going to have to work on that,” I told her. “Can’t have you illuminating us to everyone, as pretty as it is.”
The light faded into embers, pulsing as if she was sulking. I triednot to think about the fact that I was attributing emotions and thoughts to my sword, let alone talking to it and expecting it to respond. Which it did.
Griff watched me in amusement.
“What? Like you’ve never talked to your swords? Although they probably just brood instead of talk back.”
The corner of his mouth twitched as he gestured for me to precede him to the mat.
I was going to have to adjust for how light Anamlae was in my hand. Every other sword I’d used had been significantly heavier, requiring a hold farther down the pommel to balance my grip. With Anamlae clearly designed for a smaller hand, I could grip her and balance at any point in the pommel. Her slightly curved blade gleamed in the fading light.
I turned to face Griff, who was standing there with both swords out.
“Ready?” He didn’t wait for me to answer before he lunged.
Anamlae blocked his blow easily. It was never that simple to block him.
“Now you start holding back against me?” I asked in disbelief.
Surprise fluttered over his face. “I’m not.”
“Huh. Okay then. Let’s see what you’ve got, lady.”
She must have heard that thought. My attack contained a precision I’d never had before. Griff actually had to work to keep up.
And then we moved faster than I ever had before. Her light flared as she put more force, more power, into each of my blows. I had to wrench away from him.
“No!” I screamed at the sword. “We like him! This is practice! We’re not trying to actually kill him!”
Griff was full-out laughing at me.
“You think this is funny?” I asked him. “Just wait until I let her stab you, Champion.”
“You won’t let her. I just heard you tell the sword you like me.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” I told him, before snapping at my blade, “What did I tell you? No fucking glowing!”
Anamlae flared with one last burst of blinding light, searing a starburst into my eyes, as though she was determined to get the last word.
“Is this… normal?” I asked Griff.
“Feeling like they have emotions? Like they are at least somewhat conscious? Yes, totally normal. For magical devices, that is.”
“How?” I asked breathlessly.
He scratched his scruffy chin. “You’d have to ask Finn for the full answer, but my understanding is that it has something to do with the power they take on. That their creator infuses them with a bit of their own personality when tying the power to them.”
“Who was your creator?”I mused to the sword. But she stayed silent this time.
Somewhat cautiously, I engaged Griff again, but this time, she didn’t try to escalate things.
We finally finished in a stalemate. Even with Anamlae helping me out, I still wasn’t good enough to beat Griff.
He grinned broadly as he sheathed both of his swords and began clapping. “Bravo, Princess.”
