The red-haired woman’s face tensed. “I refuse.”
Lannahi wasn’t surprised. There was no greater humiliation than to surrender without a fight.
“Then you have one minute to get into position,” Bastet informed them.
As with any duel involving an enchanter, the edges of the arena were guarded by other golden-tongued ready to intercept weapons that might strike one of the spectators. The Arbiter began walking toward one of them.
Lannahi slid her hand to her knife belt, waiting to see what Lizaar would do. She swore mentally when the landshaper didn’t move, then pulled out a knife and started walking backward. Lizaar stalked her.
The epic calm that Lannahi had felt began to evaporate. In two long steps, Lannahi would be within Lizaar’s grasp. She won’t have time to cast an enchantment and she didn’t stand a chance in hand-to-hand combat.
The arena was no longer a stage. It was a battlefield.
Bastet raised her voice. “Begin!”
When Lizaar dashed toward her, Lannahi placed the knife into her other hand and dove under her opponent’s outstretched arm. She fell to the ground, shifting her weight to her right side for a moment and swung her left hand to drive the blade into Lizaar’s leg. She heard a hiss of pain but didn’t pause to see how the woman would retaliate. She broke off into a run.
When she was sure Lizaar hadn’t followed her, Lannahi stopped and turned toward her. “Stab into her left leg,” she enchanted her knife and threw it.
She didn’t need to aim. An enchanter’s knife always hit their target.
Lizaar recoiled, but the knife turned abruptly and shot toward her leg. When it plunged into her body, she screamed. She tried to pull it out, but the blade refused to be budged.
Lannahi panted heavily. Her heart thudded against her ribs, resonating with the echoes of her terror and with emerging disbelief. She didn’t like hand-to-hand combats. She feared breaking her fingers, which would end her ability to play the harp. Something she treasured above all else. Her instructors had scolded her for that until her father had told them to focus on teaching her dodging rather than attacking. Dodging was the only thing she mastered. Could it be enough…?
When Lizaar straightened with a grimace, Lannahi reached for another knife. Forcing herself to remain calm, she said aloud, “The second knife, Lizaar. If you don’t want to have it in your eye, now is the time to surrender.”
This time, the fear she saw in the landshaper’s eyes didn’t bring satisfaction. It was too easy to imagine herself in her place.
Then an invisible force started pressing her to the ground.
Having realized what was happening, Lannahi tightened her grip on the knife handle. She hoped Lizaar would give in. She didn’t want to deprive her of her eye. She didn’t want to kill her. However, when the pressure on her body increased causing a headache and black specks to obscure her vision, she didn’t hesitate. She had only a few seconds before she passed out.
“Stab into her—”
“No!” Lizaar cried out, withdrawing her crushing power. “I give up! I give up!”
Lannahi blinked, chasing away the last black spots from her vision. Lizaar was closer than a few moments ago. Her anger, hatred, and fear remained the same, but they were joined by a new emotion.
Shame.
Lannahi swallowed. The duel hadn’t even lasted two minutes. It couldn’t be that simple…
“The winner is Lannahi,” the Arbiter announced, returning to the center of the arena. “Goldfrost now belongs to her.”
Lizaar clenched her jaw. Her eyes became glassy, but she quickly lowered her gaze to hide it.
When she reached for the knife that protruded from her thigh, Lannahi was flooded with a sudden fear that Lizaar would use it to harm herself. “Return to me,” she said to the knife.
When the blade slid out Lizaar’s leg, she hissed and cast Lannahi an angry glare. Lannahi was relieved to see that there was still a fire smoldering in Lizaar’s soul. Then, a bloody knife landed in her outstretched hand and she felt foolish. Then, she felt sick.
She glanced at the Arbiter standing nearby. Bastet’s attentive gaze sobered her.
She was being watched. The surrounding silence made her forget, but the stands were full, after all.
Straight back, she remembered.Calm expression. Elegant movements.
Lannahi moved toward the exit.
