by R. A. Rock
“Because this is going to hurt,” she said, her fist leaping out. She put her body weight into the punch, striking him on the left cheek and whipping his head to the side. Finn shook it off and used his size and weight to drive her back across the open space.
Tessa dove under his arm before he could smash her against the wall, twisting away and coming in with a roundhouse kick to the kidneys. He hit the wall and groaned.
Yeah, that had to hurt.
Finn spun around, and she threw a front kick out to draw his hands down to block the lower part of his body. Once he dropped his guard to block her kick, she stepped down and threw several hard punches in a row to his head.
A purple bruise bloomed on his face, followed by a black eye and a cut lip. Her next jab, he managed to block so that it was directed to the side of his head and only grazed his ear.
She saw when he got angry, his eyebrows drawing together. Perhaps he had been holding back because she was a woman. Tessa often had an advantage that way. But she could tell that he was done pulling his punches. He was in this fight to beat her.
Not that he would.
Tessa was clearly the superior fighter. Three hundred years of fighting would do that to a person. She raised her hands to protect her face as he moved in with a hard punch. On instinct, she ducked the punch and threw her shoulder into his stomach, making him crumple forward. Then she turned her back to his chest and elbowed him in the head.
Finn dropped to the floor, stunned.
Tessa stepped back and caught her breath, waiting for him to get up—or to not get up. Either way, she didn’t care. Most men didn’t get up.
But apparently, Finn wasn’t most men.
He slowly got to his feet and faced off again. Tessa simply stood there, alert and ready. Finally, he got tired of waiting for her to attack, and he stepped in with a punch. It was a good punch. A solid punch. A punch he could be proud of. Except she wasn’t going to let him punch her.
Finn was so tired and beat up that his height, weight, and strength were no longer advantages but disadvantages, and Tessa used all three of them against him. Grabbing his wrist, she pulled him toward her, putting him off balance. She kicked him three times in the side. He groaned and put the hand Tessa wasn’t holding to his ribs, several of which were probably broken. But she yanked hard, and he fell to the floor. Quickly, she lifted her leg and viciously brought down her foot to hit him in the forehead. At the last second, he blocked, crossing his forearms in front of his face.
What the Chasm?
He was still holding his own.
Tessa stepped out of the kick, planting her foot beside him, and punched down, but he rolled desperately out of the way, and she missed.
“Stop holding back, Callahan,” the Dark Queen said, her tone bored. Boredom in the queen was never a good sign. Tessa didn’t look at her, staying focused on the man called Finn.
Should I kill him?
It might be more merciful than letting him live and then having Ransetta kill him.
Yeah, I should kill him.
But he clambered to his feet and immediately tried to punch her. Tessa grabbed his forearm and held him while with the other hand, she squeezed his neck. His eyes bulged as she cut off a significant portion of his air. Finn’s brown eyes stared at her out of his bruised face, and Tessa knew he knew that she was going to kill him.
He made a last-ditch effort and twisted away, waves of fear coming off of him now. Without any effort, she moved behind him and pulled him into a chokehold, whispering into his ear. Tessa knew that she didn’t owe him anything, but she gave him the explanation anyway.
“It will be a better way to die,” she whispered to him as he struggled to breathe. “More honorable than being tortured.”
He froze for a moment.
“I will not throw this fight,” she said, again so quietly that no one else could hear. “And you cannot beat me.”
A moment later, Tessa found herself on her back on the marble floor, staring up at the shadowy ceiling and trying to catch her breath. He had flipped her. She jumped to her feet from lying flat on her back—a move she had perfected about two hundred years ago. It was guaranteed to please, and predictably, the crowd cheered. Finn stared at her, his brow furrowed, no doubt contemplating her words.
He kicked, and Tessa blocked, wondering how long she should let this go on. In that moment of distraction, he got in a punch that rocked her head to the left. Blood flew from her mouth, and she nearly blacked out because he had hit her in the knockout point on the jaw. Instead of fighting it, she spun around, using the momentum and flinging out a roundhouse kick that hit him in the head and knocked him sideways.
Tessa wiped her mouth and watched the man. The sound of his agonized breathing made her feel guilty for a moment. The poor guy was ready to pass out, but he doggedly held on to consciousness. He got her grudging admiration for that.
He probably knew that nothing good was in store for him if Ransetta won this bet. He would be wishing Tessa had killed him if the Dark Queen got ahold of him. She really needed to kill him. She knew of at least six different ways. It was the merciful thing to do.
She walked around him slowly, and he turned with her, looking wary—and dizzy.
“Finish him, Callahan,” the queen commanded. “This hasn’t been nearly as amusing as you promised, Mr. Noble.”
The Dark Queen looked disappointed, as if she had really thought that this nobody that the Skransser dragged in could impress her.
Tessa prepared to give him the finishing blow that would knock him unconscious, but there was the sound of a stone dropping to the floor, and she felt energy in the air.
Magic.
Then Tessa’s head cracked to the side, her cheek an explosion of pain.
He had punched her.
How had he managed that?
A moment later, she knew what it was. He had activated a slow spell from the stone he had dropped on the floor, which he had to have concealed somewhere in his pants—a secret pocket maybe. There was no other way this nobody could get the jump on her—the Captain of the Guard for the Dark Court going on three hundred years. That other punch had been a fluke. But this spell would give him the advantage he needed. Fights in the Dark Court had no rules, so it was totally fine for him to use magic.
Stars above. This isn’t good.
Finn came in with an uppercut that rocked her head back and nearly knocked her down. The sound of flesh hitting flesh seemed louder than usual since everything was moving like in a dream, especially her own movements.
She watched her hand come up—far too late—to block his next jab, which caught her on the chin. He didn’t knock her out, but it was a close one. He knew what he was doing. And now that he had her at a disadvantage, he was making the most of it.
She took a few steps backward, feeling as though she were walking through gruel. Then the queen flicked her hand, and time sped up again. Finn frowned and glanced at the queen, clearly realizing that she had broken the spell.
“All’s fair…” she said, giving him a shrug and a hungry smile—like a wolf about to devour its prey. Then she gestured for the fight to continue.
“There’s no rules for fights in the Dark Court,” Tessa told him.
“So I see,” he said.
Now that time had returned to normal, Tessa once again had the advantage. She strode toward him, determined to end this, and landed a punch that would definitely leave a bruise. She drove a kick into his stomach that he was moving too slowly to block. Finn gasped and clutched his abdomen. She pushed him back across the smooth stone floor, and he fell. The man seemed about to pass out, and Tessa knew she had won. She felt no gladness, only exhaustion and a disgust for this life she was leading.
Well, that was what she was feeling until she saw him wrap his arms around his bruised torso, reach into invisible sheaths, and pull two blades the likes of which she had never seen before. At that point, all she felt was worry.
Shado
ws take me. I’m in trouble now.
The magic blades glinted in the light from the fires and candles. They reflected rainbows back at her, and they were so powerful that they gave off a slight hum of energy, which she could feel in her bones. The weapons were knives shaped like claws.
Or were they perhaps actual dragon’s claws?
There was a hole at the end of the handle for his finger to go through. He held them curving up, but she could see that both edges were extremely sharp and deadly.
What the hell are those, and where did he get them?
She watched as he spun them around his hands, flipping them back and up and over. He made it look easy, but she knew that to be able to do that without slitting your wrists took a lot of practice.
Oh, this is a problem.
He gave her a half-smile that would have been charming if he hadn’t been about to win and possibly slice her to ribbons.
“All’s fair…” he said, repeating the queen’s words.
Tessa felt a sharp spike of fear that she quickly suppressed. She pulled her fiery sword from the sheath on her back where she always wore it, assessing him and waiting for him to make his move. He came in quickly, faster than she expected considering how beat up he was.
Maybe the magic is giving him a second wind?
He attacked her with a movement like a left hook, except for the fact that there was a razor-sharp blade on the end of his fist.
The slash would have ripped her face off if she hadn’t blocked. But he came in with the second blade. She ducked but it wasn’t quite enough though and instead, the blade grazed her forehead, leaving a thin cut. Tessa tried not to be distracted by her own blood dripping down her forehead, knowing that it could be her downfall. She wiped it away with the back of one hand.
Tess stepped back, but he came at her. He held the blades with the curves up, and he ripped up with a strike that would have disemboweled her if she hadn’t jumped back in true terror, slashing her sword straight down and knocking the blade away.
Chasm and Severance. This is not going well at all.
He aimed a backhand strike at her neck, and she blocked it. Tessa recognized her mistake immediately, but it was too late.
Finn recognized the moment as well. He quickly wrapped his strong arm across her chest, placing the blade in his other hand carefully against her throat.
She froze.
“Drop your sword.”
She had no choice. She let it fall to the tiles with a clatter.
“Such a beautiful throat,” he murmured. “It’d be a shame for me to have to slit it.”
But he wouldn’t hesitate to do it if he felt he had to, Tessa knew. She sensed that he was strong and tough but also a good man. At the same time, he was desperate to keep himself alive in the Dark Court. She knew the feeling.
Shadows take me, but this is not looking good.
She held perfectly still, knowing that any twitch on her part could cause him to kill her by accident.
There was the sound of one person clapping.
“Very impressive, Mr. Noble,” the queen said. “I was about to be disappointed, but you’ve kept your promise of amusing me.”
“My pleasure, your majesty,” he said, but Tessa sensed that he was lying. Of course, he was. No one who was sane experienced any sort of pleasure with anything connected to the Dark Queen.
“Now, let her go,” Ransetta said, her tone allowing for no opposition. “She’s useful to me.”
Tessa tasted bitterness. After everything she had done for the woman, she was nothing more than useful. And if she ceased to be of use, the queen would discard her. And likely forget about her, as if she had never been.
Finn released her, and she stepped back. She put her hand to her still-intact throat and eyed him. She had underestimated him, and it had nearly cost her her life. She would not do so again.
“You have won the wager, Finn Noble. You are free to stay in the Dark Court.”
There was a small burst of light around the queen as the palm vow they had made was fulfilled.
“An interesting surprise,” the queen added, and her eyes cut across to Tessa. “We have need of Fae like you in the Dark Court.”
Tessa wanted to frown but kept her face impassive.
The queen went on. “And I think my Captain of the Guard is in need of your training on these blades.”
Tessa held in her annoyance and astonishment, while the man sized her up. He no longer looked like an easy target, a man afraid for his life. Instead, he seemed sure of himself and his abilities, in spite of the bruises and cuts that covered his body. She found his confidence annoyingly sexy.
“It would be my pleasure, your majesty,” he said, holding Tessa’s gaze, and this time when he said it, she knew he was telling the truth.
Chapter 4
An hour later, Tessa, Finn, and the Dark Queen were sitting in her private dining room, eating a late supper. Very late. Tessa could see the moon shining through the window.
“Where did you get those blades, Mr. Noble?” Ransetta cut her meat precisely and placed it in her mouth with a smile of pleasure and satisfaction.
Tessa pretended to eat, while she merely put some of the vegetables in her mouth and chewed slowly. She had no desire to eat the bird of the Laryn Hills. It was said that the bird would live forever if undisturbed and listening to its sweet song for even a minute would heal any disease. And it was this that the queen had ordered killed for her supper.
Tessa couldn’t think about it or the smell on the air. Her stomach roiled; the very idea was so loathsome.
Her challenger didn’t even pretend to eat. He sat at the table holding a poultice the healer Fae had made for his swollen eye. His ribs had been bound, but he had walked in very slowly, as if everything hurt. Tessa had a few bruises and cuts, but they weren’t bad.
“My grandfather gave them to me,” Finn said as if he didn’t want to tell Ransetta anything but was trying to act like he didn’t mind.
“And where did he get them?”
“Well, I always thought it was just a story, but there was a tale he used to tell us about how our ancestor had gotten them from Perdira’s Mire.”
Tessa set her fork down with a muted thump on the tablecloth and studied the man.
“Your ancestor went into Perdira’s Mire?”
Finn nodded.
“Nobody goes into Perdira’s Mire. Well, they go in.” Ransetta put another bite of meat into her mouth. “But they don’t come out. Or if they do, you really don’t want to see them. So much bone showing, sometimes blood.”
She wrinkled her dainty nose and gave a little shrug.
Tessa looked at Finn, and their eyes met for a moment, energy sparking between them again. She felt as though they might have connected if the situation had been different. And she almost wished it was.
But that was stupid. This man was an enemy. He might be against Ransetta, but that didn’t mean he was on her side. She hadn’t survived in the Dark Court for three hundred years because she randomly trusted people that were handsome and brave. She would have snorted at the thought if the situation hadn’t been so dire.
What the hell was he talking about anyway? The blades couldn’t have come from Perdira’s Mire. The place was a swamp of the utmost foulness. It had been for thousands of years. There was one safe place to cross the edge of the Mire, but it didn’t take travellers inside the terrible swamp. Not that anyone wanted to go inside, since the tales people told about it would either make you weep or wet your pants.
The story about Finn’s ancestor simply couldn’t be true.
“That must be just a story,” Tessa said. Finn was clearly full of Shadows and wind.
“Maybe it’s just a story,” he said. “But it’s all I know about where the blades came from.”
“Well, it’s decided then,” the queen said, pushing her plate away and turning her purple eyes on Tessa.
“What’s decided, my queen?”
“You need a set of blades like that,” she said as if it was obvious. “You and Mr. Noble will find out where they came from and go get a pair of them. From Perdira’s Mire, if necessary.”
Finn looked startled and then frowned. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then snapped it shut again as if he had changed his mind. But Tess didn’t have time to figure out what that meant. She had to convince the queen to send someone else on this mission.
“But your majesty,” Tessa said in her most respectful voice. “I’m needed here. I cannot go off on some quest. Perhaps Mr. Noble might bring a pair back here for me.”
Ransetta glanced at Tessa and then studied Finn for a long moment.
“Impossible,” she said with a shake of her lovely head. “He is not capable of such a deed.”
Finn clenched his jaw and looked insulted.
“No, Runa can handle your duties for a few months. I want you to have a pair of those blades, and I want you to know how to use them. I’m giving you three months to get back here with the weapons and to be able to wield them. The magic in them, too.”
“Your majesty,” Tessa said, standing up. “I respectfully protest.”
“Really?” she asked, eyeing Tessa. Her tone was so mild, anyone who didn’t know her well would think that she was relenting. “You protest?”
Unfortunately, Tessa knew her all too well. She pressed her lips together and submitted to the queen’s whims—before she was thrown in the dungeon and tormented for her next three hundred years.
She had survived in the Dark Court this long because she knew how to handle the queen. And this moment was not a time for arguing. She would see Ransetta later when she was away from her royal duties and more relaxed. Sometimes, she would listen to Tessa when in that state.
“As you wish, your majesty,” she said and bowed her head. “Permission to leave you now?”
“Granted,” Ransetta said, then added the ritual farewell words used in the Dark Court. “May the shadows hide you.”
“And you, my queen.”
Then she turned on her heel and left the room, heading for the training arena.
