He tipped his chin, a soldier’s nod that gave nothing and granted everything.
They circled. She read the coil of his hip, the tell in his left shoulder. She saw it, then thought of Her Radiance’s pale hands, the tremor even after the black veins in her neck disappeared. Her heel slipped. Zarrek’s staff hooked her ankle and the mat struck. The world tilted, and the ground slammed into her ribs.
She lay flat, air gone. Smoke trailed toward rafters. Zarrek offered a hand. She rose alone, dusted her sleeves. Reset.
“You’re off kilter,” he grunted.
Her reply was curt. 'Again.'
They clashed. This time, she caught his sweep. Turned it. Wood bit wood at her angle. He pressed. She met him. Breath steadied.
They broke for water. Zarrek drank without clatter, his gaze combing her in intervals. Checking for a wound unseen. Lu’ma wrapped her palms in her sash until sensation returned. The ring bit into her palm from her thumb.
A reminder.
She inclined her head, 'This Nameless is grateful for the lesson.'
He answered with a nod. "Got too many knots to untie in that mind of yours."
Lu'ma blinked at him. Pressed the ring into her thumb.
'Her Radiance has too many enemies. First the painted ones and the Council. Now the Solutus,' she signed.
"She wasn't the target," he grunted. "Not this time."
'The rebellion has never—'her hands paused as she searched for the right words. 'This wasn't a simple act of zealots. Rebels living in tunnels beneath the city, scarce in resources, hiding from the Doctrine could not have—'
"Nothingscarceabout the Cataclyss," Zarrek said.
Lu'ma straightened, waiting for him to explain.
"Yeah," he said, "I was there. Walked the roads. Saw the ward systems they've got in place. It's organized."
'Is that where you met the golden creature?'she asked.
Zarrek stilled. Completely. A shadow crossed his face, and when he looked at Lu'ma, she tensed. The question was unwelcome, but that did not mean she wouldn't ask it again.
'In the Han, you pretended not to see her. But This Nameless witnessed how your gaze lingered.'
They stared each other down, neither one giving quarter.
Suddenly, the unyielding lines of his scarred face twisted into a rather hideous grin. His white teeth gleamed in the light.
"You're something," he said. "When I first saw you, I knew you were trouble. Never been wrong before." He stood, crossing his huge arms over his chest. "You've got something hidden in that blank stare of yours, but I'm not about to go digging. You want my help, then work for it."
Lu'ma surged to her feet.'This Nameless needs nothing from you.'
"Then why do your eyes say otherwise?"
She did not answer, but the ring pressed into her thumb so hard she nearly flinched.
"Enough of this." He gestured with his head towards the Resh’Agar’s wing. “Take care of what you need to. We’ll pick up at third bell.”
She returned the nod, then turned to tend to her duties.
Safe to report: The Scarred One continues to train This Nameless.
Lie to report: This Nameless still does not know why His Quintessence ordered this training.
