Sheila peered at me for a second. “You don’t need Clarent for that,” she said, pulling a short sword from her sheath and offering it to me. “You can show me what you’re made of, right now.”
“I would, but I want to give these to Gwen,” I said, holding up the donuts. “But afterward, I will definitely do that.”
“Yeah, no.” She shook her head. “We’re doing this now.”
“Sheila, I already—”
“Look, Arthur. You’ve been gone for almost two weeks, and your body has changed drastically. You have this presence to you that wasn’t there before. I want to make sure it’s you.” She offered me the sword, and as I looked at it, the truth of what had happened hit me full force. While I’d been gone for a year, it had barely been two weeks for them. “So we can do this the fun way, or I can attack you. Either way, you’re not taking another step without fighting me.”
“Sheila, it is me,” I said, but as I spoke, something about the idea of fighting her stirred in me. So far, my opponents had been the wind. I hadn’t faced a live opponent in over a year, and I was desperate to do so. The thought of taking the sword was so overwhelming I nearly did it.
“Maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t, but you’ve been gone for a while, and according to Sam, you went to see Mammon. For all I know, you’re her puppet now.” Sheila dropped the sword to my feet before reaching back for her sword. “Fighting is one of the most intimate things we can do. Once we fight, I’ll know if it is really you in there, Arthur.” She pointed at me with her spear. “If I let you through without making sure, what kind of guard would I be?”
“Fine,” I said, kneeling down and setting the box of donuts on the ground. Then I gripped her fallen sword. It had decent balance and was light with less reach than Clarent had. I swung it through the air a couple times, and as I did, Sheila watched me like a tiger ready to pounce.
“Ready?” she asked, and when I nodded, she lunged at me. The point of her spear lashed toward my face with a speed that let me know she was holding back. It was the same speed she’d used when we’d sparred before, and as the point came toward me, I marveled at how slow it felt.
Before, when we’d trained, she’d seemed impossibly fast despite her size. Now though? Now, I’d spent a year fighting the wind and the lightning. She would have to be more serious to hit me.
I stepped to the side, allowing the blade to pass by my head by the barest of millimeters. “You’ll have to try a lot harder,” I said, stepped forward into her attack and driving my knee into her stomach.
A cry of exploded breath burst from her lips as she stumbled backward, the spear slipping from her hands to clatter to the ground. She crumbled to the floor, clutching her stomach.
“How?” she mumbled, eyes wide, and as I moved to offer her my hand, I realized she was scared of me. “How could you move so quickly?”
“What do you mean?” I said, looking down at her. She still hadn’t taken my hand. That was odd.
“I mean, that I didn’t see you move.” Sheila swallowed hard, and I saw her glance to the spear like she might try to grab it. Only I wasn’t sure why she’d do that. “The only person I’ve seen move that quickly was Nadine.”
“Oh.” I shrugged. “I told you, I’ve had some practice over the last few days.” I knelt down next to her, and as I did, she scrunched herself backward. It wasn’t a lot, but enough for me to notice. Something about the movement bugged me. She was never scared, and yet, she was frightened of me. Only, she shouldn’t have been. She was one of my people, and I’d do anything to save them.
“It’s been two weeks, Arthur.” She took a deep breath and met my eyes. “I want to try again.” she bit her lip, steeling herself. “Let me try once more.”
“Um… okay,” I said, nodding to her. I took a step back, allowing her to get to her feet. She did slowly, carefully, not taking her eyes off me as she scooped up her spear. She gripped it tightly, her knuckles white with strain. “Ready?”
“Yes,” she said, and this time when she came at me, it was with the full force of her fury. I saw magic shimmer off of her in contrails, whipping behind her as she thrust the spear at my chest. It was impossibly faster, and as I watched it come closer, all I could think about was how dreadfully slow it was.
With an absent flick of my wrist, I pushed the tip away, brushing aside the blow and causing her now misdirected thrust to flash by me. Electricity crackled across the shaft of the spear as it moved by me and I stepped around her.
“Better?” I asked as she stumbled forward, losing her balance and collapsing to her knees just a few feet away.
“How?” she asked, turning to look at me, and this time I could see tears rimming her eyes. “How could you have defeated me so easily?” she shook her head. “I can see it in your eyes. You aren’t even trying, are you?”
“Not really,” I admitted, offering her my hand again. “But—”
“No, I get it. You’ve been training for a year. You keep saying that.” She looked up toward the storm-strewn sky. “But I’ve been training for hundreds of years, Arthur. I couldn’t hit you with my best attack.” Her shoulders sagged. “That is the difference between our levels now.”
And all at once it made sense to me. It would have been as if I’d stepped into Annabeth’s competition and beaten Damore myself. I’d taken all her hard work, all her sacrifice and thrown it in her face.
“Would you like me to go all out?” I asked, moving toward her. “Because I can.”
“No,” Sheila said, taking a deep breath. “Perhaps, I am being hasty.” She shook her head. “I like to say I’ve trained for centuries, but mostly? Mostly, I go through the same motions and stand by gates. I think, perhaps, I’ve not worked as hard as I should have.” She nodded and got to her feet. “That will change, Arthur. The next time we meet in battle, I’ll wipe the floor with you.”
“Um… you don’t have to do that, really,” I said, smirking. “I’d prefer not to have my face bashed in if I can help it.”
“Too bad because that’s happening,” she said, looking me over. “You can go in by the way.”
“Alright, thanks,” I said, and this time I hugged her. “I really did miss you. And I need a favor.”
“A favor?” she asked, confused as she patted my back. “If it helps with the muscles, I can show you some stretches. You definitely feel like you haven’t been stretching.”
“No, well, I mean, okay, I haven’t stretched, but that isn’t what I meant.” I took a step back and held up the short sword. “It’s well, I don’t actually know that much about fighting. Not styles or anything like that. I would like it if we could continue our lessons.” I made a slash. “I may be faster and stronger, but well…”
“But you’re unrefined.” Sheila rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I see what you mean. Meet me at the end of the day and in the morning. I will help you, and in so doing, help myself. It’s been a long time since I had someone I could train with full out.”
“Thanks,” I said, my heart actually lightening. I had been worried she might not forgive me for becoming stronger, but instead of getting angry at me, she’d become more focused. I wasn’t sure what that’d mean for the future, but I was willing to bet Sheila was about to get ten kinds of scary.
“You’re welcome,” she said, making a go away gesture. “Now go see Gwen, and when you see her, you should start with an apology.”
“An apology?” I asked, handing her the short sword before picking up the donuts. “What for?”
“Normally, I’d tell you to think about it, but you’re remarkably dense.” Sheila gestured at the Graveyard. “You should apologize for leaving without telling her. We were all worried, and it wasn’t until Sam told us she’d asked you to see Mammon that we realized where you’d gone. You’re the leader of the town, sure, but Gwen runs all the logistics. You can’t put Gwen in a position where she looks foolish because you were being impetuous. Doing so undermines her authority.”
Those words hit me like a punch in the gut, and as I looked down at my box of donuts, I realized it wouldn’t be enough. Something about that made me sad on a level I couldn’t quite explain. I’d tried to go forth and do well, for Gwen and for all of us, but in all that, I’d forgot a simple basic courtesy. I should have contacted them before I’d stepped into the void, let them know what was going on, but I hadn’t.
“You’re right,” I said, taking a deep breath. There was no choice but to go forward and face the music. “I am sorry.”
“I believe you,” Sheila said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “But it isn’t me you need to convince.”
31
As soon as I stepped through the gate, I realized how much work they had done in my absence. The walls had been erected around the entire town as had gates. They looked to be of similar construction to what Maribelle had been doing when I’d left, which were basically big troughs full of dirt.
Beyond that, I could see more buildings filling the streets. Okay, they weren’t exactly streets because they weren’t paved or anything, but unlike Lustnor, the buildings had been laid out with purpose, as though the effort had been to maximize space. Hell, most of them stretched up two stories. It made me wonder what all of them were for since aside from the alchemy and blacksmith shops, the others seemed empty. It made sense since we hadn’t had the staff before, but then again, maybe we’d gotten some in the meanwhile?
“You!” Gwen snarled, and as I turned to my left, I saw Gwen stomping toward me. Now, I don’t quite have the words to properly describe the mixture of emotions on her face. There was rage, hurt, sadness, betrayal, and a thousand others in every last line of her face. She looked like she’d been crying and tried to hide it with makeup even though I was sure the succubus had never actually used makeup.
She was dressed differently from normal. No longer was she clad in her leather bikini, and instead was dressed in simple trousers and a shirt, much like what Sam would have worn. Her raven hair had been put up in a severe bun when it’d always been down, and it looked like she’d actually been working. I don’t mean to say her logistical work wasn’t work either, but it looked like she’d been doing “hammer and nails” kind of work.
“I’m sorry,” I said, letting the words slip from my mouth before I’d even finished looking at her. Then I stood there, unsure of what to do. I could see wavy heat lines all around her, and with each step, she left a charred, blackened spot in her wake.
“You’re sorry?” she asked, taking a huge gulp of air like she was a dragon ready to burn me to ash. “That’s all you have to say?”
“I brought donuts?” I squeaked, my voice retreating inside myself. It was weird because I’d spent a year fighting in no man’s land, tangled with a princess of Hell, and beaten our best warrior in single combat in a handful of seconds. And Gwen fucking terrified me. What’s more, I felt small and unworthy of being in her presence.
The way she looked at me made me want to run and hide. To flee so she wouldn’t utterly destroy me, only I knew that ninety-nine percent of her fury was actually hurt turned hot by my unexplained absence. I could see it leaking from her in every movement.
“You brought donuts?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at me. Her lips settled into a thin-lipped smile. “Why would I want fucking donuts?”
“I thought you’d like them—”
“You thought I’d like them?” She took a deep breath and shut her eyes. Her hands balled into fists as her entire body stiffened. Then she screamed. A horrible, guttural cry that stabbed me through the heart. I took a step back stunned as she sank to her knees in front of me. “You left me, Arthur. You just left without saying anything. I-I had to find out from Sam.” She looked up at me, tears leaking from her eyes. “Who does that?”
“I’m—”
“Who fucking does that?” she cried, cutting me off. She shook her head and sucked in a breath. “Look, I feel like I’m pretty amenable. At first, I thought maybe I had claim over you for finding you. Then you went and fucked every girl here. It’s weird because I should care. I get that. Like it’s weird that I care. And I was like okay, maybe that’s how it’s going to be.” She shook her head. “I don’t even really care about that so much, but I wanted you to think I’m valuable, that I meant something. I wanted you to choose me. I’m an actual, honest to god, succubus. I am so much better at sex than these girls, it’s a fucking joke, and yet you haven’t slept with me.” She stopped, and for a second, I thought I’d get to say something. “This isn’t a sex thing.”
“Oh.” I squeezed my inadequate box of donuts.
“You didn’t even tell me you were leaving, Arthur.” She took another huge gulp of air and tried to meet my eyes. Only I could barely see hers because tears were streaming down her face. “I run this fucking town for you, and you didn’t think to tell me you were leaving. If Sam hadn’t told me, how would I know?” She shook her head. “That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that you didn’t even think of that, did you? Didn’t even consider telling me. That’s how little I mean to you.”
I had no response because she was right. I hadn’t thought of that. I felt bad, intrinsically bad, but I didn’t know the words to make it right, didn’t know what I could do to fix it. The truth was, it hadn’t even occurred to me, but it should have. It fucking should have.
“Give me the donuts,” she said, holding out her hands. “I want them.”
“What?” I said, confused.
“Give me the fucking donuts,” she said, and her voice was so calm I wanted to run away. Anytime a girl had been that calm around me, I’d regretted it. Anger, I could deal with.
“Gwen—”
“Am I being unclear in some way?” She got to her feet and held out her hands. “You say you bought them for me, right? Give them to me.”
“Okay,” I said, offering her the box. It was weird. When I’d gotten it, I’d been so proud of it, so excited to give her the donuts, and now? Now, it just felt pathetic.
She took it from my hands and nodded to me. “Thank you for thinking of me.” She turned and walked away from me then, leaving me standing there. I wasn’t sure what to do, how to fix what I’d broken, but I knew I had to try.
“Gwen,” I said, taking a step toward her, and as I moved, she snapped at me.
“If you touch me, I will hurt you,” she said, not looking back at me. “Do not follow me. Do not come find me. Just go away.” She flicked her hand at the town. “I no longer want to be around you, Arthur. Not right now, anyway.”
“I’m sorry,” I said and suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to fix it. Worse, I could see how she felt, really truly see it, and because of that, I knew there was nothing to do but hope she’d be good enough to forgive me.
“Thing is, I believe you,” she said, stopping suddenly. She turned and held out the box. “I know you’re sorry. This even shows you thought about me. But you don’t think about me the right way. Not as an equal and a partner. Not as the person who gave you her town, who pulled you out of your old life.” She looked at me, cocking her head to the side. “I just wanted you to be better. Not sorry but better.”
“I wish I could,” I said, shuffling my feet. “I really do. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I fucked it all up.”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding to me. “But you brought donuts.”
This time when she turned and walked away, she didn’t stop or look back, and I didn’t really blame her.
32
“Well,” Sam said, looking up at me as I entered her shop. “You must have done something right, or you’d be dead.” She brushed the pink hair out of her face, smearing soot on her cheeks. Then she wiped her hands on her overalls, smearing more soot on her fabric.
“I brought her donuts.” I looked at the ceiling. “I’d wanted to make her happy.”
“Yeah, and Gwen probably gets that.” Sam took a quick glance at
her forge before coming toward me. “But what she wants is respect, and you don’t give her respect.”
“I totally respect her,” I said, feeling my hackles rise so I could defend myself.
“No, you don’t. Not really.” She touched her chest with one hand. “You respect me because I can do all this.” She gestured at her shop. “Same reason you respect Annabeth, Maribelle, and the others. You respect them for their job.” She huffed out a breath. “This isn’t me admonishing you, Arthur. This is me trying to help you.”
“I, well, I guess I don’t quite understand.” I shook my head. “Of course I respect your abilities. You’re the only ones who can do what you can do.”
“And what does Gwen do?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips and staring at me.
“She runs things, I guess.” I shrugged. I wasn’t really sure exactly because Buffy handled most of the trade.
“You don’t quite know, huh?” Sam sighed. “Maybe that’s the problem. I mean, it’d be different if you were fucking her, probably, because I bet that pussy she has is magic.” She looked down at herself. “Mine isn’t magic, but when you’re with me, I know you’re with me, ya know?”
“I do not know,” I said, squirming uncomfortably. This was not how I’d expected my return to go, least of all with Sam. “I’m actually getting really uncomfortable talking about you like that.”
“Yeah, I get it.” She rolled her eyes. “Imagine how I’d feel if you didn’t let me work on your sword or armor. You clearly enjoy using your sword and armor, but what if you never came to me for it. What if you, say, had Sheila work on it because she’s a guard and good with weapons, how would I feel?”
“I wouldn’t do that. You’re a smith, I can tell you’re good at weapons.” I scrunched up my face in confusion.
“Exactly,” Sam smacked me upside the head. “That’s what Gwen thinks about me. I’m Sheila in that scenario, and she is me.”
The Builder's Greed (The Legendary Builder Book 2) Page 19
