Jasper tightened his grip on Nocteflamme’s handle. “See to it that you remember your orders. We have a contingency plan for this.”
Night Frost nodded, then moved off toward the far end of the courtyard. The safety team rushed into view from the opposite side and began scooping up the fallen red-and-black knight, who was still moaning.
Jasper moved along the top of the wall and scanned the spectator bridges overhead, drawing his sword again. He angled toward the zone of the arena that was beyond the view of the closest stands. He descended the rubble outside the old wall and made his way down to the natural rock caves that the sea had formed in the cliffside.
With one last look around to see if he was being watched, he ducked inside one of the caves.
The package was where Blaise said it would be, tucked away on a shelf of rock and wrapped in a waterproof bag. He untied the cords and removed the weapon. The high-powered crossbow was small but deadly. It was camouflaged with gray and brown paint that matched the local stones and came with a built-in attachment for the carbide-tipped bolts. The final accessory was a reel in the shoulder stock that contained a spring-loaded tether.
Jasper quickly assessed the weapon, then reached around his back to pull his silver cape to the side. He brought the undersized crossbow around and clipped it to the ring at the back of his armor. With the tether attached, he could reach around his back, draw the crossbow out to fire, then stow it again in a matter of seconds. He tossed the cape around his back again to cover it. The pleats in the cape would do a fair job of disguising the bulge. It wouldn’t fool a close encounter but would be sufficient to keep the spectators in the dark.
Jasper filled the empty bag with stones and tossed it into the bay on his way out of the cave. He then climbed cautiously back to the wall, even making a vague adjustment of his groin protection when he came in view of the stands. If anyone was suspicious of his absence, they might easily believe he had simply found a safe place to relieve himself.
He took a route that led him up and around the periphery of the castle. The sound of steel on steel could be heard over the beating of the drums and what sounded like electric guitar coming from the orchestra. If the music was to be believed, things were heating up.
One thing Valerie had no experience with was fighting multiple opponents at once. She circled the keep of the Dreadrock with her eyes flitting back and forth between her two targets. Running Crow and Yuna Gozan had been clashing with one another already when she stumbled upon the scene. Gozan had blood trickling down her arm from a wound under her shoulder armor. Running Crow was also spattered with blood, but Valerie wasn’t sure if it was his own or a prior combatant’s.
What she did know was that both warriors were eyeing her now, possibly as a way to draw the other into a compromising position. Valerie considered backing out of the confrontation, but it wouldn’t do any good in the long run. There could only be one winner.
She trod carefully over the uneven terrain. One false step here could mean two swords in her gut in short order.
Yuna Gozan pulled a shorter blade from her belt and held it in the hand opposite the Head Collector. It was a bold choice as wielding the legendary sword one-handed would be more difficult, but it wasn’t her first time in an arena, and Valerie couldn’t count the move as a vulnerability.
Running Crow’s secondary weapon was a club of bone and wood, decorated with feathers. His sword was all Avalonian steel. He maintained his two-handed grip and clenched his jaw beneath a horned helmet that was painted with the symbols of his tribe.
“Someone want to take the lead on this dance?” Gozan said.
“Ladies first,” Running Crow muttered.
Valerie used a low guard, letting her arms hang loose. The anticipation was building with the sound of the drums overhead. The enthusiastic conductor was apparently determined to exhaust his percussion section.
Finally Gozan made a move, feinting right, then spinning and sprinting for Valerie. The warrior planted a foot on a piece of rubble and launched an aerial attack, flying through the air with sword extended to skewer her. Valerie somersaulted forward to avoid the surprise move and was back on her feet in an instant. She was now caught between the two opponents, however, and had to block the incoming blow from Running Crow. Metal clanged as their swords met. She shifted her feet evenly and refused to backpedal as she evaded his continued attacks. She wouldn’t let him get her off balance.
The maneuver put Running Crow back in the center of the action, and he was forced to turn and parry an attack by Gozan. Valerie leapt into the fray, and the three traded blows in rapid-fire succession. The two women both landed hits on each other’s armor, but nothing drew blood. Running Crow used his sheer power to knock their blades aside and attempted to hack through their defenses. But Valerie was too quick for him, and Gozan was able to use her secondary blade to deliver counterattacks. Running Crow retreated from the skirmish with a minor cut to his neck and several deep cuts in his boiled-leather armor.
The three were once again at an impasse, but the circumstances changed quickly as Night Frost rounded the corner of the keep and presented herself. Then Valerie’s eyes were drawn to the opening of a nearby archway. The shadows took shape and The Red Reaper moved into the sunlight.
The crowd cheered and whooped as the orchestra took the opportunity to add bass to the horn section. The Reaper’s arrival made this a five-way fight, and the spectators were eating it up.
Valerie locked eyes with the Reaper and grit her teeth.
Liar.
Two-faced, cheating bastard.
As the drumbeat once again ramped up in intensity, the tension grew in the circle. Running Crow let out a war scream and rushed Night Frost.
Then all hell broke loose.
Gozan and Valerie both sprinted toward the Reaper.
Overhead, cymbals crashed.
Valerie shifted into Soaring Dragon, and the Reaper met her blade as she expected. He had to shift his position immediately, however, spinning to evade Yuna Gozan’s lunging, two-bladed attack. He moved with impressive speed, dodging Gozan and parrying and deflecting Valerie’s continued cuts and thrusts.
Gozan shifted position and swung at Valerie, driving her back, before delivering a series of vicious cuts across The Reaper’s chest and abdomen. His armor held but he was forced to retreat. Gozan whirled back to strike Valerie, cutting and stabbing with a flurry of motion that sent Valerie stumbling backward. She lost her footing and almost fell but recovered at the last moment as Gozan’s blade passed just inches from her neck.
Valerie and Gozan exchanged a half dozen blows before they had to account for the Reaper again. He was back in the fight, and his Sword with the Red Hilt was a blur as he divided the two women and sent them scrambling for defensive positions.
The Reaper turned to deal with a renewed attack from Gozan, and Valerie saw her opening. He was using the Coiled Viper defense, which meant, in a moment, his side would be exposed. She ignored the doubts that tried to surface in her mind and focused on the movement that would reveal the vulnerable underside of Damon’s arm. He raised his sword high and she struck. But before Fire Bird could penetrate his unprotected underarm, he turned, grasping her sword with his gloved left hand and spinning into her. It was a move she had only seen once before, and they were suddenly face to face as they had been the night they first kissed in the garage. Enraged that he would use that maneuver now, Valerie smashed his helmet from his head with her left fist and dropped to a leg sweep, sending him to his back. He caught the top of her helmet as he fell, dragging her off her feet. She landed partly atop him. Her helmet rolled away, and her hair fell about her face.
The fall had dislodged Fire Bird from her hand. As she sat up to her knees, she realized the sword was now in Damon’s grasp. She fumbled for the knife in her belt and drew it, holding it up to plunge it into him, but when their eyes met, she knew it was too late.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He thrust the sword
forward and stabbed her.
36
Loser
Valerie stared at Damon’s arm. The sting had only been momentary. A nick of the blade before his arm shoved all the way through her?
She stared down at her chest, but the blade wasn’t there. The sword’s edge had only grazed her side instead, piercing her jacket and cutting her slightly as it passed, but he had missed everything important, shoving the sword past her instead of through her.
Damon withdrew his wrist from beneath her armpit, and she heard the groan.
She turned to find Yuna Gozan directly behind her, the Head Collector still poised for a death stroke. But Yuna wavered, her arms dropping as she looked down to the wound in her chest.
“That sword . . . is so . . . sharp.” The words dripped from her lips, and she collapsed where she stood.
Valerie scrambled to her feet, snatching up Damon’s red-hilted sword and taking a guard position a few feet away.
Damon rose as well. He moved to Gozan to check if she was still breathing, then waved her white flag.
Valerie quickly scanned the area and found that Running Crow was slumped against the wall of the keep, his bloody sword resting across his lap. He was still alive but was bleeding from several wounds to his arms and chest. Night Frost was lying face down on the grass unconscious or possibly dead.
“Looks like we’re almost to the end,” Damon said. He glanced down at the sword in his hand, then offered her the handle. “Want to trade?”
Valerie considered the weapon she was holding. Its grip was too thick and long for her liking. She took a wary step forward and reached for the handle of Fire Bird.
Damon didn’t let go. She offered the handle of the Sword with the Red Hilt, but as soon as he grasped it, she delivered a forceful kick to his stomach. Damon flew backward and crashed to the stones. She was on him in an instant, her sword flashing in a wicked cut that would cleave him in two.
“Liar!”
Damon barely got his sword raised in time to block the blow. He rolled away and staggered to his feet as he retreated before her fury. Valerie pressed the attack.
Roaring Inferno.
Sweeping Hurricane.
She delivered the blows with more energy than she had ever done in practice. Damon reeled away as her cuts found his armor and flew about his head. He counterattacked with Whistling Grass.
Too slow.
Valerie moved into Fire of the Dragon and instantly destroyed his attack. She put him on the defensive, driving him backward out of the yard of the keep and down a set of steps to a lower courtyard. Damon struggled to keep his footing on the uneven terrain as she advanced on him.
“I know you’re upset,” he said, desperately parrying a thrust at his face.
“Figured that out, did you?” Valerie said, swinging low and delivering a blow to his leg that sent him staggering. She pursued him out of the courtyard as he fled. He crashed into the stone wall of an alcove, then leapt behind a column as she swiped at him. She dashed around the other side of the ruined pillar and continued her attack. Ripping Tide, Roaring River.
Damon was fighting vigorously to keep her blows to his head from landing. She delivered several more cuts to his arms and legs, one of which found a gap in his leg armor and caused him to cry out in pain. He pressed his free hand to the wound, and it came away bloody.
They found themselves in a covered hallway out of view of the crowd. The porcelain tiles of the ceiling overhead were still intact and formed a mosaic that depicted a hunt.
Valerie paused to catch her breath. Damon did the same. The music from the orchestra died down, the conductor unable to score the action with them out of sight.
“I’m not what you think I am,” Damon said.
“You’re right,” Valerie replied. “You’re much worse than I could have imagined. You got my brother killed.”
Damon panted his response. “I never knew Jasper would kill him after the duel. I only served as his stand-in.”
“Only?” Valerie retorted. “That was enough!” She swung at him and began another dizzying flurry of cuts and thrusts. She backed Damon down the hallway into the darker recesses of the ruin. He descended another set of steps to what once was a dungeon. Barnacle-encrusted manacles and cages still adorned the walls. They splashed through several inches of water that had come in with the tide and flooded the room.
Damon sloshed his way around the dungeon, trying to dodge and deflect her vicious cuts.
“I know I deceived you,” Damon said. “But I wasn’t lying about all of it.”
“You did say I shouldn’t want to be with you. I guess you got that right.” She punctuated the statement with a jab.
“There’s more,” Damon replied.
“More ways you betrayed me? I can hardly wait.” She swung at him again, cleaving a cluster of dried coral from one of the pillars.
Damon retreated, this time down a hallway filled with rusting jail cells.
Sunlight penetrated through a few chinks in the mortar overhead, and farther down the hallway, a wall had fallen in, allowing another access from outside. Seawater was cascading down the rocks like a waterfall. Bits of flotsam and seaweed bumped Valerie’s legs as she renewed her attack on Damon. The clash of their blades echoed down the hallway, and they created waves as they continued their deadly dance. She met each defense of Damon’s with a stronger attack. She battered his sword and made continued thrusts at his armor until finally a cut to his inner arm caused him to lose his grip on his sword. It disappeared into the rising water at their feet.
She pressed the tip of Fire Bird to his exposed throat.
“Tell me how it feels,” Valerie hissed. “How Henry would have felt. Unarmed. Completely at your mercy.”
Damon met her gaze. “You’re right. He deserves justice.”
“You betrayed me,” Valerie said. “You said you wanted to help me. You were only helping yourself, selling me out to Lord Sterling this whole time.”
The tip of her sword drew a drop of blood from his neck, and he flinched but didn’t speak.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t run you through the same way your boss did to my brother.”
Damon whispered his reply through gritted teeth. “Because you’re better. Better than all of them.”
Valerie narrowed her eyes. “You’re just trying to save your own life.”
“Do what you think is right then,” Damon replied. He spread his arms, exposing his chest.
Valerie pulled her sword back to strike, but she wavered. His expression was stoic, but his dark eyes never broke contact with hers.
It wasn’t a trick. He had to know she’d cut him down before he could defend himself.
She wanted to hate him.
She wanted the earth to open up and swallow him, or the ocean to suck him out to sea so that she wouldn’t have to look at his irritatingly sincere face.
She couldn’t help but recall the first night she had cut him. The way he had looked at her. His eyes still held that intensity now.
The tip of Fire Bird wavered.
She couldn’t do it.
“Damn you!” She slashed through the air, her blade tip slicing through the water that was now up to her knees. She held up a fist as if to strike him instead, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that either. “Why? Why did you do it?”
“Only with good reason,” Damon replied. “When the tournament is over, I promise I’ll—” His words were cut short, and he staggered forward a step, nearly colliding with her. She put a hand to his chest to steady him. That’s when she noticed the arrowhead protruding from the upper corner of his chest plate. Damon looked down in shock, registering the blow. Then his eyes met hers and he fell, splashing into the water next to her. Valerie screamed and tried to keep his head from going under the water. Then she looked up to see the man standing in the section of knocked-down wall.
Jasper Sterling lowered the undersized crossbow. “I always knew that hired swo
rd was soft.” He snatched another bolt from the side of the weapon and began to reload it.
Damon groaned from next to her as he propped himself up on one arm. “Go! You have to take him out now!”
Valerie rose to her full height and gauged the distance to Jasper. There was twenty yards of knee-high water still separating them. She hoisted her sword and took a few steps toward him, but she was too slow. Jasper cocked the crossbow and seated the bolt, then leveled it at her chest.
Valerie froze. It was next to impossible to maneuver in the knee-high water.
“You’ve had this coming for a long time,” Jasper said.
“I’m not letting you win,” Valerie said. “Not while I’m still breathing.” She tightened her grip on Fire Bird and started walking toward him.
“That’s the idea, sweetheart,” Jasper said. He sighted along the crossbow. “Say ‘hi’ to your brother for me.”
He fired.
For Valerie, the moment broke into a hundred micro-seconds: the trigger on the crossbow clicking, and the snap of the bowstring, launching the bolt from the end of the weapon. The fletching on the arrow shaft caught the air and stabilized the projectile as it soared toward her.
Her muscles were already tight, her wrists twisting the hilt in her hand and bringing the blade of the sword in line with the incoming arrow.
“Aaaghhh!” she shouted as she swung, cutting down and right as she shifted her body to the left. The crossbow bolt ricocheted off the flat of the blade and danced across the surface of the water.
Jasper’s eyes went wide.
Valerie didn’t hesitate. She rushed him, her legs churning waves in the seawater as she ran. Jasper fumbled for another arrow, but his armored fingers lost their grip on it, and it fell, disappearing into the water. He was forced to toss aside the crossbow and draw his sword.
Valerie shouted as she reached him, swinging hard for his outstretched arms. Jasper blocked the blow and attempted a counterattack, but Valerie was all over him, slashing and cutting at his chest and legs. Despite her best combos, none of her strikes penetrated. Even his underarms were immune.
Sword Fight Page 34
