The rest of the class all look at me, a rustle of unease as people shuffle and adjust their steps.
Well fuck her and fuck them.
“What’s the aim? Disarm? Hurt or wound?” I ask, talking directly at Crimson.
“Oh, I doubt you’d be able to do any of those things. Ever.” Crimson’s cruel smile curves over her beautiful face. “But if you’re offering to be my next opponent, I accept.”
Ten whispers something to her, but I can’t hear. And further along the arc of the ring, Calix looks edgy.
“You shouldn’t bait her. She’s mean.” Micah is at my side, warning shining in his eyes.
“I can be mean. Besides, I’ve been waiting for this. I was told no physical training until after the Transference. It’s time.” My words sound far more confident than I thought they would, so I draw the memory of the pain from last night and leash it around me, keeping me bold.
“Yeah, but that’s before we knew you were a Fifth. Zuns, we don’t even know what that is. What you’re capable of.” Micah’s voice is hushed on the second sentence.
“It’s your choice, Ever.” Rowan seems to emerge from the line. “And Crimson, if you’re sure. This isn’t what I’d condone for training, but keeping with everyone’s wish not to single Ever out…”
“Bring it.” She swirls the dagger in her hand, the blade glinting in her hand as it rotates as if stuck with glue, before slipping back into her grip time and time again.
“I don’t have a blade.” I’d never done more than practice with the wooden versions.
“Fists, blades, I’m sure I can do the same damage to you with both,” she gloats.
“Leave it, Crimson.” Ten steps between us, glaring at her.
“Don’t worry, Ten. I’ll leave her in one piece. If you ask nicely.” She sashays back and flicks her sunny blonde hair over her shoulder. Her brother has crept up to flank her on the edge of the ring, and the rest of the trainees move around, spreading out to get a better view, perhaps.
“What are the rules?” I turn to Rowan.
“No rules. You can make physical contact. First one to yield or draw blood.” His face is emotionless as he lays it out, unfazed by what is about to happen.
“And if she sticks that in my side?” I nod at the knife in her hand.
“Perrin is an incredible healer. Amongst other things.” The older Custodian nods to me.
Great.
Ten moves closer and holds a blade out for me to see before twisting it, angling the blade inward towards him. “It’s not designed for you. It will feel wrong, but use it. She’ll be fast. Lightning quick. Don’t give her a second. Don’t hesitate. Grab her on the left as soon as you can.” He rests the hilt in my palm, and I stare at the silver blade, feeling the weight of it. “Ever? Do you understand?” An order. My eyes snap to his, and I nod. For asecond, I search for the Ten who promised to help me under the stars that night.
He closes my fingers around the hilt, touching me, skin to skin.
I brace, but nothing. No pain, at least.
Only that warmth. That heat, as if something raw, now flows through my veins. And I can feel his heartbeat. Pulsing. Darkening. Like a shadow creeping through the forest.
He looks at me, and the depth of colour in his eyes seems to go on forever. They look different, somehow. Or is it that mine have changed?
“If you don’t mind, I thought we were training,” Crimson calls.
I pull my hand away, the touch releasing whatever it was, clouding the edge of my mind. One look at Ten, and I know he felt that too, maybe more than me.
My hand clenches around the hilt, and I storm into the circle, not waiting for anyone to give me the go-ahead. I stride straight for Crimson and her smart mouth.
She has the decency to look a little startled now that I’m heading in her direction, but she corrects quickly, and I see the move before she even starts. I dip, my feet moving, and she misses. Re-positioning, she comes at me again, lightning quick, a blur, striking one way then the other. My heart begins to thump, the confidence now warring with the adrenaline. I just need to make contact… twist, move, but she’s already there, the arch of her arm, pulling out of the space I reach for. My feet stop moving, baiting her, and she buys it, her smile giving her away. My hand grips the top of her left arm as she lunges for the spot I was in a split second ago.
My fingers tighten, and I can feel… power snake out over the connection, dwarfing her, looking for control over her. She thrashes against me, but I easily angle her out of the way whenshe whips her free arm out and around with the blade. I knock her back each time, Ten’s blade repelling hers.
And still, she baulks, fighting our contact, as I smother her. Her movements grow sloppy and groggy, and the speed and agility she showed so perfectly with Ten are gone.
